It was early on a Sunday morning in Cambodia and I was standing at a 12th-century moat. Traces of mist hovered above the lotus leaves that dappled the water.

Across a causeway, through a tumbledown gate, is Banteay Chhmar, one of the largest temples built by the ancient Khmer Empire. My friends and I were going to have the place all to ourselves.

We walked in. And ended up sharing it with a herdsman. And with an affable mason who led us across acres of fallen stones to see a message from the past, an inscription chiselled into the doorjamb of a holy tower.

Steps of royalty

Cambodia's great temples in Angkor, 65 miles away, have long since been rediscovered after a quarter-century of closure by war. They draw more than a million foreign visitors a year. During peak hours, crowds can form at temple steps that were once reserved for kings and priests.

But go beyond Angkor and you will find places that serve up the old solitude and sense of discovery. You can explore at your own pace, to the sounds of birds and the breeze that stirs the leaves overhead.

Banteay Chhmar is among the most spectacular of these places. Getting to it entails hours on bumpy and dirt roads. Staying the night means making do with primitive accommodations: candlelit rooms in local homes and bath water drawn from that same moat.

I stayed there that night. The next morning I rose early, as everyone there does, and took a walk in clean country air. I passed mother hens foraging with their chicks and boys tending to a mud oven in which charcoal was being made. I was seeing not only a temple but also a way of life.

Today several thousand people — rice farmers, herdsmen and vendors — make their homes on all sides of the temple. They grow vegetables on the banks of moats; and pile straw within the walls of ancient buildings that dot their settlement. The ancient and present coexist harmoniously.

Doing good

Spending time there also means doing a good turn, spreading wealth in a part of a war-recovering country that has largely missed out on the tourist dollars that Angkor is bringing in. People do have mobile phones (charged by generators) and some have small tractors but there are few other signs of affluence.

Banteay Chhmar was constructed during the reign of the 12th-century Buddhist king Jayavarman VII. His engineers were thinking big even by Khmer standards: To contain a great settlement, they built earthworks and moats that formed a square measuring roughly a mile on each side.

At its centre, within another square moat system half a mile on each side, they built the temple.

More than a century ago, French archaeologist Etienne Aymonier found the temple in a state of “indescribable ruin''. It still is, despite the efforts of that friendly mason, who is part of a small reconstruction team.

But that's part of what makes the site so enticing. Exploring it means climbing over huge piles of stones — something that is best tackled by the sure-footed. We passed ruined towers, courtyards and ceremonial walkways.

The temple is no longer a formal religious site but Khmers believe it is still sacred. In one of the chambers we even found a small contemporary shrine with a Buddha image.

One of the best parts of this temple is the many hundreds of feet of bas-reliefs on its outer walls. We had to scramble up more stones to get a good view. Before us was a full sample of life 900 years ago: processions of elephants, prominent ladies tended by maids, children roughhousing, villagers in a sampan and servants tending a stove.

There were also many scenes of war with Champa, the long-vanished rival state to the east: The temple is largely a memorial to four generals who lost their lives in that long conflict. On land, the men of arms go at one another fiercely with spears (the Chams are identifiable by their curious, blossom-shaped headdress).

On water, rows of men pull at oars from galleys as others strike at the enemy with spears.

The carving style is similar to that of the Bayon temple reliefs in Angkor. The difference is there's no need to fight for a view.

Late in the afternoon, we went for a look at what the ancient Khmers could do with water.

To the east of the temple, they created a reservoir that measures roughly a mile by half a mile.

Academics disagree over whether this body, and others like it, did only symbolic duty as earthly stand-ins for the mythic Sea of Creation or were part of a vast irrigation system — or both. Whatever the truth, I was awed by the scale.

The reservoir was largely dry but because its floor was low and collects water before the surrounding land does, it has been divided into rice paddies. We strolled along paddy dykes and greeted farmers who were tinkering with a tractor.

A woman had caught a bucketful of paddy crabs and insects, which she would sell as food. At twilight, we passed a group of young men bringing cattle home.

Simple pleasures

I spent the night at the house of a Cambodian family, friends of a friend. They couldn't have been more gracious. I had a room of my own, bottled water, mosquito coils and a big luxury: a car battery hooked to a fluorescent light. I could have light all night if I wanted.

Other members of our party slept at a homestead — the term given to guesthouses and family homes that accept paying guests — a few steps from the temple's gate.

At dawn, I walked to the moat and took in the early-morning sights.

Later, we explored on foot. Mixed in among wooden homes were the walls of 12th-century relics that had once been monasteries or small temples.

We had breakfast at a stall in the town's market; there are no restaurants.

I first visited Angkor in 1969. Back then, you could be alone even in the big temples. I walked through the largest of them, Angkor Wat, hardly encountering a soul. It's good to know that such an experience can still be had. You just have to work a bit harder for it.

Go there ... Banteay Chhmar ... From the UAE

Siem Reap is the closest airport.

Singapore Airlines flies daily via Singapore.
Fare from Dh3,335

Thai Airways flies daily via Singapore.
Fare from Dh4,035

— Information courtesy: The Holiday Lounge by Dnata.
Ph: 04 4380454

By John Burgess, Los Angeles Times-Washington Post News Service

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Solitude in stone