THE MYSTERY OF ANGKOR
You couldn't imagine a more peaceful place than Cambodia in 1961. Sure, the Vietnamese to the east had split into a Communist North and Free South after the French defeat at Dienbienphu - but that was a problem of despised Cham (the ancient name for ‘Nam).
A flight on Royal Air Cambodia from Phnom Penh (the capital) to Siem Reap (near the ruins of Angkor) provided an unforgettable example of just how laid back the place was. It was a DC-3, and the stewardess served us a small cup of orange juice, then strapped herself in the jump seat near the exit door and fell fast asleep.
The plane landed, taxied to the tiny terminal, the ground crew opened the door, and we all walked past her to deplane - she was still out cold in Z-land. Must have been a long night in Phnom Penh.
I stayed in this small hotel, Auberge de Temples, run by a French lady, right across from Angkor Wat. There were a handful a visitors and I was the only American. As I explored the magnificent ruined cities and temple complexes of Angkor Thom, Ta Prom, Ta Keo, Angkor Wat and others, they were like deserted lost cities that I had all to myself.
Wow, is it different today.