Angkor Wat in Siem Riep, Cambodia- the largest religious monument in the world. There are around 1000 other temples nearby, moldering in the jungles. Everyone goes to the four most spectacular ones, so that leaves 996 others, mostly empty of tourists.

Whenever you can, I recommend visiting places that most people are afraid to visit, but which are actually pretty safe. If you can exploit the difference between the perception of danger and the actual danger, which is sometimes a pretty large spread, you’ll have a great time, the locals will fall all over themselves to take care of you, and you’ll save a ton of money.

Current examples of opportunities like this would include Iran, Columbia, Mexico, Nicaragua, Myanmar, Venezuela and Lebanon. Soon we can add Libya. All these places are much safer than is generally realized, which spells opportunity for inexpensive and memorable travel.

 

I was fortunate to first arrive in Cambodia shortly after their civil war. Defeated soldiers were still holed up in remote areas – a few had resorted to banditry to survive. A couple of tourists had been kidnapped and killed  a few months before. Most governments still advised their citizens against visiting, so there were very few tourists. Some roads still had bomb craters. Everywhere there were signs warning “Land Mines – Keep on Trail.”

I loved it. The Cambodians were sick to death of war, and just wanted to make a normal life. They were delighted to see a few tourists. A decent room was about $5, a good meal about $2. The food was delicious, the temples mesmerizing.

There were only about four tourists in the famous “Ta Prohm” temple ruins that day. Just a few years later, when I returned, there were hundreds of tour buses lined up outside, snack bars, souvenir shops and oceans of people. Prices had skyrocketed, of course, which was great for the locals, but which created a completely different experience. Still cool, though, especially if you have any Indiana Jones or Laura Croft-style fantasies.

In Phnom Penh I hired a motorbike and driver to take me out to The Killing Fields.

Walking through, reading the signs about the vastness of the terrible atrocities committed there, I tried hard to sense the pain of the victims. To hear some ghostly echos. I’ve tried the same thing at My Lai and Vicksburg, but… for me at least, nothing. Just a chance to pay one’s respects.

The memorial there is hollow, and stacked to the rafters with thousands of the victims’ skulls. It’s stark. Powerful.

On the way back to town, I asked my moto-driver about his family.

“Not much family now. Just kids. I am oldest – twenty three. My parents, brother, all aunts and uncles killed in war.”

My god. That’s terrible.

“It’s normal. Every family here same. In the long fighting our population go down 7 million to 3 million so fast. So so terrible time.”

You’re the oldest in your family?

“Yes, only young ones and very old ones now. My parents’ generation wiped out. Now almost no one in Cambodia between ages of 25 and 45.”

I’m so sorry. Especially for any role my government might have played.

“Oh, yes, Nixon invasion 1970 started civil war. Don’t feel bad – not your fault. Hey, before we go hotel, you want shoot AK-47?”

The  gun? Seriously?

“Yes, yes! I know place. You pay five dollars and they show you. It’s fun! If you pay $50 you get to shoot a cow!”