Angkor Man

"You pay peanuts - you get monkeys!" Someone once said. This, I've come to realise, is never more true than when buying an plane ticket. Having flown to Spain with a company, which shall remain nameless (but rhymes with Bryan Flair), a few years ago, I have been wary of opting for the cheap airline option since. We were so cramped in on that flight that I felt like I was eating my meal off the head of the passenger in front of me. That's after I'd paid about £300 for the privilege of eating. I think I used the loo a record number times on that journey, not because I needed to use it, but because it offered more leg room and a slightly more pleasant smell than the cattle lorry I was in.

With this in mind, I was a little apprehensive when we arrived at Vientiane Airport on Thursday morning. We'd spent the previous evening wandering around the riverside of Laos' capital, exploring the night market and hoping that the delicious street food wouldn't repeat on us. Now standing in the modern departure terminal we searched for the check in desk for our flight. We became slightly concerned when we realised there was no sign of a flight to Pakse - that was until a kind lady explained we were in the wrong building and pointed us in the direction of the domestic terminal.

In contrast to the clean, sleek lines of its internationl counterpart, the domestic departure terminal was, um, basic. Peeling paint and plastic chairs took me right back to the assembly hall at my comprehensive school. The handwritten departure board just added to the quaint feel of the place. Still, this was doing little to alleviate my fears that we'd be sat next to chickens on a cargo plane held together with gaffer tape.

In actual fact, the plane was great. On both the journey to Pakse and our onward flight to Siem Reap, Lao Airlines provided lovely vehicles. The second of which was a propellor plane - we had plenty of leg room and were provided with a free meal. Result.

We had chosen our hostel in Siem Reap as it would serve as a good base for us to explore the famous temples of Angkor. It also had a swimming pool, which was a bonus. Another plus was that our room came with its very own gheko, who we named Graham. Graham, we decided, would protect us from the nasty mozzies. He was part of our gang.

We spent our first night exploring the vibrant downtown area of the city before heading home for a dip in the pool. I got out first and went for a shower - as I opened the door I stepped over something writhing around on the floor. What was it? I wondered. A snake? A worm?

Oh no.

It was Graham. Oh more specifically, Graham's tail. Graham lay motionless beneath the door I'd just come through. "Why would you lie there?" I asked Graham, before remembering he was a gheko and probably wouldn't be offering a reply. 

I thought about leaving him where he was and blaming Steve or Nick when they returned. No, that wouldn't be fair. Maybe chucking him over the balcony would be a better way - no, I needed to face up to what I'd done. I was a killer. I scooped Graham up and placed him on the window sill and tried to wash my guilt away in the shower.

Then I lay on my bed and waited for the boys to return, trying to find the words to tell them what I'd done. They'd be devastated. "I killed Graham," was what I settled for as they walked in.

"What?"

"Graham. He's dead. I squashed him with the door." 

I think it was about five minutes before they stopped laughing at me.

We dedicated two days to go and visit the dozens of temples that make up Angkor. You might have thought that we would've been bored of temples by now, after all, our first month and a half has been spent travelling between Buddhist pagodas and Hindu shrines! However, Angkor is somewhat different - Lonely Planet introduces it to visitors by saying, 'There is no greater concentration of architectural riches anywhere on Earth.' A vast area of land is covered with hundreds of temples that allude to the once mighty city that stood on the site. At its zenith, Angkor was the capital of a huge Khmer empire - boasting a population of one million people when London was still a town of 50,000.

I won't bore you (any more than I have already) by giving you a detailed description of each of the temples we visited, but they each had their own unique feel. Some had been lovingly reconstructed and others had been claimed back by nature.

On our second day in Angkor we rose at four thirty a.m. and wearily boarded a tuk tuk. We had been joined by a French girl, Clem, who looked just as grumpy to be up so early. The reason for our early start was that we were off to watch the sunrise over the largest religious building in the world - Angkor Wat.

We arrived in the dark and battled our way through an ocean of Chinese tourists to find a spot where we could view the spectacle. Nick, Steve and Clem were served a dubious substance by a man called Tiger Woods, who claimed it was coffee, and then we watched as the sky changed colours - from a pinky purple through to a yellowy orange - revealing the five lotus flower towers of the majestic royal temple.

After spending a few hours exploring the courtyards and long corridors of Angkor Wat, we made our way to my favourite temple - Ta Prohm.

You might know Ta Prohm, even if you think you don't, as it's appeared in a few Hollywood movies, including Tomb Raider and Indiana Jones and the Temple of Doom. So in tribute to the latter, I played the Indiana Jones theme music on repeat for my entire visit!

Ta Prohm is famous because, unlike the  meticulously preserved Angkor Wat, this temple has slowly been reclaimed by the encroaching jungle. Giant tree roots strangle crumbling walls and give the place a real fantasy feel.

Thankfully, every now and again there was a tiny break in the onslaught of Chinese tourists to grab a photo - although, to be fair, I'm sure we photo-bombed more than a few of theirs too.

At the end of our two days we were exhausted. It turns out Lara Croft and Indi' were in tiring lines of work. As I lay in bed, trying to take in some of the sights we'd seen in Angkor, I was pleased to read that gheko shed their tails when they are threatened. Somewhere in Siem Reap, Graham - the tailless gheko, lived to fight another day.