Part II of "Where was PDP?" picks off where I last left, Battambang en route to Siem Reap/Angkor. The trip marks my second visit in over one month but this time around without the jaws of life that is family holding me down suppressing my every movement. You know what I mean right, my fellow Khmericans?

So your parent's decide to take a family road trip to the summer vacation hot spot -- Canada. When you are a young kid any news where you get to leave your small town is exciting and even better when the opportunity is to travel to the buzzing metropolis of Vancouver, British Columbia.

But the sh*t gets old and boring.

Khmer parents do the same old same old routine. At the crack of dawn, they begin to jam pack the old school Cressida or some hideous Scooby Doo looking Mystery Van bumping Sissamouth tunes for 5 hrs to the border. When you pass customs, the folks change their currency. The next two hours or so, they go berserk in Chinatown buying everything: roast duck, stinky durians and other tropical fruits, BBQ pork, pastries, soups; basically enough to feed a whole Cambodian village. No need to purchase rice as Khmer folks always be rollin' in style with their industrial size rice cookers.

Guess where next? Yes, you are correct -- the park!

Until I had the freedom to explore the city at the age of 18, I thought Vancouver had only one park, the overly popular and much abused Khmer hang out of Queen Elizabeth Park. Now bust out three or four of those colorful Khmer rugs (ka'thayal). For the next two hours, stuff yourself as much food as your body can take. Don't forget to take breaks by walking around the dome covered greenhouse and kill time by eavesdropping to watch newlyweds or take cheesy pics around the flower garden. This same old routine gets boring fast. Usually a nap for parents while the kids run around doing the earlier mentioned activities for a couple hours.

Its around 5 or 6 pm now just enough light for the road trip back home. But wait one more thing. Because parents tend to overestimate their food purchases and because you can't bring fruits across the border, it would be a waste to dispose such pricey delicatessens so the family enjoys (tries at least) one last meal together, usually at another park just meters before the border crossing. For a city of over 2 million inhabitants, it’s quite pathetic that our parents can only fill the agenda with outings at the park and eating!

Enough of this typical Khmerican experience tradition by Northwesters let us move forward with the trip to Siem Reap (SR).

Thursday. 9/29. So a friend and I got thrifty and dared to bus to SR for $5 a person instead of $15 under the "express" boat as the other two friends wisely opt for. Boy, I regret it. A word for future travelers: do not, I repeat, do not take the bus! For more than 5.5 hours, you will be traveling in 10 mph on one of Cambodia's worst roads! We got there around 330 PM completely exhausted.

We checked in at the dirt cheap $4 a day double bed Naga Guesthouse. Um, why haven't our travel companions called us as we agreed before our split in Battambong? Apparently, they experienced mechanical problems on the boat and also arrived in SR much later than plan. I ran into them while walking around downtown to purchase The Cambodia Daily.

We decided with the couple hours left before sunset to go to Angkor Wat. But through what means? The typical boring Khmer style in air conditioned vehicle or the true adventurous backpacker style, a bicycle? Shoo, you know what we chose!

Damn, I was rusty on the Schwinn. The peddle to Angkor Wat from our guest house was not too bad, about 10 km or more.

"Hey, are you Khmer?" a uniformed worker at the Angkor Archaeological Park entrance yells at me.

"How dare you ask me such a question? Mok mot jea koun Khmer." I calmly responded and smiled.

The two others had to pay 45 dead prez for a three-day pass, while we two Khmericans got in free!

The second time at Angkor sure had its moments. The beautiful orange reddish tint filled the horizon. We could not wait to see the view on top. But as we arrived at the foot of one of the five towers, security guards prevented us from going up. Hundreds of tourists have already begun to make their descent down the railed steps. I tried to use my charm (or lack of it) by talking to one of the older female guards but no luck. All of them rejected us. So instead, we decided to continue walking around the massive complex observing the detailed carvings on the walls. Pitch darkness swallows the area within minutes. But instead of walking back out, we broke the rules by quietly climbing up the steps. The guards are nowhere in sight. We had to be extra careful; as one experience climber knows, the steps are ridiculously thin and steep. It was well worth the risk though, because we did catch one minute of whatever light of the sun that was visible at this time. We rushed down, jetted out the complex to the sounds of crickets and croaking frogs.