I’ve had some good luck with timing along my travels. I wanted to go to the abandoned French hill station of Bokor while in Kampot in Southern Cambodia, and chose the first day of the Chinese New Year to do so. Normally the main road is closed due to construction, and anyone who wants to visit the hill must start the day out with a serious 3 hour hike just to get to the top. But because it was the holiday, construction had ceased for a couple days, which allowed us to drive all the way to the top, and even get in a scenic jungle trek just for the hell of it. Lucky!

The area was abandoned in 1972 and has remained uninhabited ever since. There’s a Catholic church and an old post office but the highlight of the trip is what is left of Bokor Palace. It’s a four-storey building that housed a ballroom and casino and is now in ruins and covered with a creepy orange lichen. The fog increased as the afternoon passed and was literally rolling in through the windows, creating a super-eerie ambiance. There’s a local tale that exists which claims that people would sometimes lose all their money gambling at the casino and, seeing no other solution, would throw themselves off the cliff behind the building. Stories like this only helped to add to the spooky vibe.

Sadly, there is major development happening up in the hill station. Our guide proudly showed us where the foundation for a major five-star resort has been laid. Rumors for a golf course exist. Considering that the allure of the hill station is the fact that it’s deserted and atmospheric, I’m afraid that the addition of a resort will definitely take away from all that and make it less desirable to visit. But, in Cambodia, money talks.

The abandoned church.

What is left of Bokor Palace.

Orange lichen growing over many of the surfaces.

There’s a bridge which crosses Prek Kampong Bay and connects the two parts of Kampot, Southern Cambodia. It was destroyed during the Khmer Rouge period, and was repaired in three distinct styles. It’s quite strange looking – almost like they couldn’t agree on a common architectural style so each took a section.

I had heard that there were caves to be found in the limestone cliffs outside the city of Kampot. I hired a moto driver for the afternoon and we took off in search of them. I knew it was going to be an interesting afternoon when within 5 minutes we had sprung a leak in the back tire (he stopped at a friend’s house and “borrowed” another motorbike).

After a half-hour drive, the driver dropped me off next to a row of dried-up rice paddies (apparently they only harvest one rice crop per year, in the rainy season), and pointed off in the distance. “You go over there”, was his only instruction.

I started to zig zag my way through the fields when two young Cambodian boys joined me. One was 9 years old and one was 12. They insisted they didn’t want anything, only to practice their English. I was happy to have them along for the company.

I could tell you about the fantastic views after climbing to the cave entrance, or the beautiful and well-preserved 7^th century brick temple dedicated to Shiva found inside, but the highlight of my afternoon was climbing through the caves, getting dirty and sweaty as we took “the hard route” to get out. They hammered me with questions about my life while we clamoured over boulders, squeezed through passageways and hopscotched over the cave pools. I asked them about their families and school (one came from a family of 9 children, the other from a “small” family of 5 kids).  I emerged from the cave absolutely filthy and soaked but totally happy about the new friends that I had made along the way.

Walking through the dried-up rice paddies and farmland to the caves.

My new friends and I at the cave entrance. Doesn't that formation look like an elephant?

The view from the caves.