Mangoes at sunrise

The first time I saw Angkor Wat…it was pitch black and my bottom hurt. It was barely 5am and we had just cycled in the death-defying dark of pre-dawn for close to 2 hours to get there in time for sunrise. Did I mention this was only the second time I’d ever successfully ridden a bicycle? I was something of a late bloomer in this regard, in the sense that I simply never did. That is until I was faced with two options at the age of 23 – pay a tuk-tuk driver to take me everywhere during my 2 month trip around Southeast Asia, or learn to do something that the 6 year old next door can do with no hands. Given the slimness of my wallet and my desire to eat at least once a day while I was there, it’s no surprise I went with the latter.

To watch the sun rising over the ancient, crumbling splendour of the Buddhist temple was worth a thousand sore bottoms and every last cent of my savings that it took to get me there. With the smell of the red dirt in my hair and the heat of the day already creeping in, it was one of the most peaceful and content moments of my life. I sat there watching the sun glance off the water of the temple’s surrounding moat, eating sweet, fresh mango from a vendor wearing a straw hat and toothless smile, long after my travel partner had wandered off in search of shade and a nap.

There is something very humbling and full of fathomless wonder about being in the presence of history made tangible – to stand where so many centuries ago kings, monks, warriors and long-gone explorers stood before you. To feel the rough stone beneath your fingers and the hot sun on your face and know that they too felt these same things. If it’s a reminder of just how much beauty the world still has to offer you, so long as you’re willing to take that first step out your front door, and to feel the thrill of a life filled with what seems like endless potential pumping through your veins – I can recommend no better place to start your journey.