By Traveling Light Columnist: Liz Pond
Posted: February 2, 2026
I watched in awe as the fireball of a sun rose above the famous Angkor Wat, painting the landscape with light and shadow. It was a photographer's dream. You could hear the clicks of phones and professional cameras all around us, each focused on this magnificent 8th wonder of the world. The grass glistened with each ray of the rising sun, still damp with the moisture of the early morning. You could smell the fresh air and newness of the day, thick with humidity, but a comfortable coolness, like right before a rain.
A modern tradition takes place each February when tourists, families, and local couples gather at Angkor Wat on Valentine's Day to show love and gratitude for each other and for what the Temple symbolizes to them. For Cambodians, Angkor Wat represents a cultural identity, resilience, and the enduring spirit of its people. This Temple has become a special romantic Valentine's Day spot for travelers and young Cambodians who watch the picturesque, spiritual sunrise together. Less than 3% of Cambodians are Christian, but the commercial aspects of St. Valentine's Day have made their way into the non-Christian Cambodian culture. What better place to share a sunrise with someone you care about than Angkor Wat, which is viewed as a representation of Mount Meru, the center of the universe for both Hindu and Buddhist traditions.(1)
We watched from our perch on the ancient wall as guides shared the remarkable view with visitors from around the globe. An audience gathers each day to witness the beauty of this 900-year-old structure built by King Suryavarman II. It was originally a Hindu temple dedicated to the God Vishnu before becoming a Buddhist site by the late 12th century. (2) This trip was at the top of my bucket list for a decade, and the spectacular Angkor Wat was even more beautiful than I imagined. With each passing minute, the temple revealed more of itself, proudly displaying centuries of stone and the stories of those who came long before us. It is hot in Cambodia and the early morning is the perfect time to explore this architectural masterpiece and UNESCO World Heritage site, before the merciless sun threatens to climb high in the sky, scorching all in its path. This was our second day at the massive Angkor site, which spans over 400 square kilometers and comprises multiple temples, dykes, reservoirs, canals, and communication routes. Impressive monuments and ancient urban plans showcase an exceptional civilization. Temples such as Angkor Wat, the Bayon, Preah Khan, and Ta Prohm exemplify Khmer architecture with profound symbolic significance. The architecture and layout of the successive capitals bear witness to a high level of social order and ranking within the Khmer Empire. This makes Angkor not only a culturally significant site, but the largest religious monument in the world.(3)
We hired an amazing guide who took us to multiple temples the day before, including Ta Prohm, also known as the Tomb Raider Temple, as it appeared in the 2001 film of the same name. Ta Prohm was built in the 12th century by King Jayavarman VII as a Buddhist Monastery and University. Unlike Angkor Wat, Ta Prohm was largely left unrestored, allowing giant strangler fig, Kapok, and Silk-cotton roots to embrace the stones. This UNESCO World Heritage site symbolizes the struggle between nature and human creation. (4) Until now, this had been my favorite, because the temple site mixed architecture with the natural beauty of the enormous, perfectly gnarled tree roots snaking through ancient walls and windows. It was a special place where the trees seemed life-like, as if they were there to protect the temple ruins with their long tuber-like arms exposed to the elements, partially protecting the temple from the destructive sun. One's imagination could run wild in this place. The trees rustled in the welcome light breeze, sounding like an ancient secret whisper. Monkeys patrolled the branches and high walls, looking down playfully on visitors. As we explored, a particularly precocious monkey jumped down and tugged at my travel companion’s water bottle.
Although Ta Prohm was other-worldly, today, we were at the main event, Angkor Wat. I was ready to squeeze every bit of adventure out of this long-awaited visit. This was a tourist site, a pilgrimage destination, and later became a symbol of Cambodia on its national flag. The massive complex showcases classical Khmer architecture, featuring its iconic five-towered temple mountain design. This represents Mount Meru, the sacred home of the Hindu Gods. It is surrounded by elaborate bas-relief and a moat.(4) We walked and walked some more, exploring everything. Our guide’s stories came alive in the nooks and crannies of the magnificent monument. At one point in my child-like excitement, I decided to call home and share the amazing view I was seeing. T-Mobile's international plan was five cents a minute, and the call was clear as day, as I shared the unbelievable experience with my husband. It was warming up, though, and I could feel the sticky heat on my cheek as I removed the phone from my ear. Yes, the sun was now up, and it was brutal.
I was so grateful for the Krama, a traditional Cambodian checkered lightweight scarf that can be worn multiple ways, but mainly protects you from the tropical sun. As instructed, I would dampen the scarf and wrap it around my head to create a tiny cool cocoon until it dried, and I would then repeat. The scarf was also super handy for wrapping around your shoulders to show respect when entering a temple. It was useful in dusty areas to cover the nose and mouth. The Krama are sold everywhere, and my only regret was not getting two so I could clean one while using the other, then switch off each day. Locals skillfully tie the Krama to use it like a bag to carry things. (5) This lightweight cloth is a must-have in the unforgiving heat of Cambodia.
Even with the Krama, I was already warm when we approached the iconic upper-level Bakan Sanctuary, known for its steep steps. We eyed the intimidating 70-80 steps that we needed to conquer to make it to the top. This is sometimes called the Stairway to Heaven. The height and wobbly handrails made this climb to the top tier challenging. The steepness and height of the central tower can be a concern based on articles I read, which suggested “crawling up or using significant caution.” My smart travel buddy opted to admire the temple from below. Still, I was hell-bent on making sure I did not miss a thing. So, I dunked the Krama scarf in more water and looked toward the temple in the sky as if I was a 6’ 2’’Josh Gates from Expedition Unknown and not a 5-foot, slightly clumsy retiree. (6)
Inside my head, I was not the over-50 out-of-shape woman who, until a month before the trip, spent all her time working and little time devoted to exercise and health. No, in my head, I was the adventurous 20-something who jogged the uneven steps of Mount Sinai with a backpack. Today, I can say I get my daily 10K steps in and have a regular water aerobics schedule that keeps me healthy and feeling young. At that time health was an intention, but I was freshly retired. I acted on the travel intention, but had not found my way to the health part yet. On this trip, I was carrying an extra 25 pounds and needed a knee replacement. But nothing was going to stop me. This was my dream trip. So, I said goodbye to the guide who had stayed with my travel companion, and adrenaline pumping, I started up the steps at a brisk pace. As instructed, I did not look down. And before you knew it, I reached the top, albeit red-faced and puffy. I was a little winded, but mostly just hot.
Moving inside this part of the sacred temple, I thought it would be slightly cooler with the thick walls. I was wrong. The hot, stale, dusty air surrounded me and the crowds moving through the labyrinth of interconnected ancient rooms. I sat for a moment on a stone bench and watched the dusty particles float through the air as the sun came beaming through a deep square window in the temple. Young couples held hands as they walked through. An athletic-looking older man with a walking stick came through, followed by a monk. I tried to imagine what it would have been like at the height of the kingdom. Who passed through these halls? Royalty? The sacred ones? I am sure a young couple of the past stole away for a few hours up here. If only these thick, crumbly walls could talk, the stories they would tell.
After about 20 minutes, I had circled the upper temple and was near the doorway to go back down. I wanted to be respectful to my travel buddy and the guide who circled the lower area while I explored on my own. I waited in a long line to head down, and finally, made it to the doorway. Instinctively, I did the exact thing I was told not to do: I looked down. First, I saw the ladder-like steps that rendered a fragmented view of the ground between each stair. Then the handrail shook at my touch from the people pulling on it along the stairs. The rail is meant to provide a small bit of stability as you navigate the narrow steps, which are not large enough to fit an entire shoe. The pattern between the steps made me dizzy and the unthinkable happened. I am not sure if it was the heat, my less-than-perfect vision, or sudden fear, but the entire stair structure started moving in a vertigo, so rather than stepping into what would be sudden death and perhaps the death of others on the stair ladder, I hurled myself back away from the doorway and let others pass.
I regrouped, drank some water, and thought, surely, this vertigo would go away. My heart was still pounding, but I cautiously edged forward, hoping I could overcome this sudden fear of heights. I peered over, because there is literally no other way to reach the ropes, and it happened again. I stepped back. Swallowed the end of my water. The guide had more at the bottom of the stairs. Only now I felt trapped at the top of the stairs. I took a few deep breaths, remembering that this is not actually the first time I have been afraid of heights. I somehow forgot this as I climbed up this monument like a goat. There were others fearful as they stepped out onto the narrow platform, but they were in groups speaking different languages, and encouraging each other. Some were friendly and tried to encourage me, but as soon as I got to the edge, the vertigo began. I had read that people do fall when climbing up here, but not often, the article said. I would prefer not to be the one who slips and plummets to my death, but I also did not want to chance getting anyone else hurt with the constant stream of people on the steps.
I tried to call my travel buddy. The guide may have some ideas. No answer. Was the phone working up here? It worked great on the level below. It had been close to an hour now, and I was hot, thirsty, and very stuck. I could tell my face was showing the heat because a nice family offered me some of their water. I am embarrassed to say I was too much of a germaphobe to take the water. I was, however, getting very popular for volunteering to take pictures with tourists' phones in front of a beautiful window with a great view. I had to do something to pass the time. And I only got the vertigo near the edge. I peered out the window, and there sat my travel buddy and the guide down below. I waved and struggled to get their attention. Finally, making enough of a commotion for them to recognize me. They thought I was waving for fun. They had no idea it was an SOS. They thought I was experiencing the gleeful joy of the place, just like when I left them.
My fate was sealed. Either I dealt with the down myself, or I would be stuck up here for eternity. So I edged to the walkway. This time on my butt. Trying to avoid the “down.” I got further, but it was no use. Quickly, the vertigo came back. So I scrambled back in the doorway and took more tourist pictures. But little did I know that our amazing guide saw my toddler crawl and sorted out that, based on the time that had passed, there could be an issue. I also asked one of the tourist couples I took pictures of to alert the friend I pointed out below. I am not sure what happened first, but the kind and patient guide Serey, my knight in shining armour, appeared next to me. He reached out a hand of support and gave me new water. I explained that my vision got fuzzy whenever I got to the edge. Although his English was good, I was not sure if he knew the word vertigo. He confirmed there was no emergency exit or accessible route I did not know about. I was hopeful, but mostly joking when I asked this question.
Serey simply said, “You won't fall. I will be in front of you, and you can lean on me. I have done this a 1000 times. You will look only at your feet and follow my feet, step for step. You can almost do it with your eyes closed,” then he added, “but please don’t.” So we climbed onto the platform. Like before, the stairs and ground swirled, making me a little nauseous, but when I turned back around toward the Temple, most of the unwanted motion went away. The guide had one hand on the rail and the other firmly on my waist. I was death gripping the shaky handrail, which was wet and slippery from a recent drizzle.
My knees felt weak, but I was ok. “First step ma’am,” he said. “The first step is the hardest, and the rest will be easy.” He stepped, and the stability of having him next to me dissolved into the wet air, exposing the swirling ground below. I wanted to close the gap so I could not see the ground. I followed with a step of my own. The less I saw of the down, the better I felt. First he stepped, and then I did. Over and over again until we were 8 steps from the bottom. I heard a yelp and a scuffle, and two girls had missed a step below us and landed in a heap. They giggled, so I knew everything was ok. What if they had slipped further up, I thought? I went back to focusing on each step. It was methodical, took time, but my foot finally touched the welcomed ground. I was down safely. I pried my hands from the rail at the bottom, exposing white knuckles and wiggling my fingers to bring blood back to my extremities.
As my shaky legs carried me away from the steps, I thanked our guide. Serey, who was my angel. I later found out that Serey is a common Khmer name meaning freedom. Not only had he helped free me from the upper temple tower, but over our three days together, he shared so many historical stories centered around freedom. Struggles to gain freedom, desire for religious freedom, and so much more. Serey made the trip rich in experience. Also, I would still be in the upper Angkor Wat Temple without his steady hand. I will never forget what he said calmly and matter-of-factly before we started our slow and steady steps downward. “What goes up must come down.”
Travel Tip - Traveling light is good when climbing, but more water is always a good idea when venturing on any kind of climb. Also, have your plan B ready. I could have avoided being stuck like Rapunzel in the tower if I talked to the guide ahead of time and sorted out a plan. Perhaps if I'm not down in 30 minutes, I could have suggested he come and get me. But the romance of scaling Angkor Wat had taken over, and logic fell to the wayside. For me, at the end of the day it’s simple: “What goes up must come down!“
References:
- hdasianart.com, Mount Meruin Buddhism: The Cosmic axis of the Universe
- britanica.com, Suryavarman II, Biographies and facts
- pathculture.com, TaProhm: Cambodia’s Legendary Jungle Temple
- angkor.org, Cambodia |Culture | Education | Travel, Angkor: The Eternal Symbol of Unity and Strength in Modern Cambodia.
- kramakrama.com, Story of the Krama - Cambodia scarf
- clarknorton.com, Angkor Wat’s Stairway to Heaven
About the Author:
Liz Pond has spent over 25 years leading sales teams across the globe with American Airlines, combining a successful career in travel with a lifelong passion for exploration. Having visited more than 100 countries, she brings a rare blend of industry expertise, cultural insight, and personal curiosity to everything she does. Today, Liz divides her time between global travel and her role as Director of Air, Car, and Rail for a prominent tour operator, where she focuses on creating thoughtful, seamless travel experiences. A strong advocate for accessibility, Liz believes travel should be inclusive and life-enhancing for everyone.
Liz earned her undergraduate degree in Sociology and Urban Planning from UCLA, holds a Master’s degree / MFT from the University of Phoenix, and earned a Global Leadership Professional designation through the Wharton School of Management in partnership with the Darden School of Executive Education at the University of Virginia. Outside of her professional work, Liz is deeply committed to advocacy and service. She serves on the Board of Directors for United Cerebral Palsy of Central Arizona, supporting initiatives that empower individuals with disabilities to achieve their full potential.
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