Mid afternoon and the sun is beating down, the only sounds the buzz of small insects and my own laboured breathing.
I have just climbed three steep layers of weathered steps to the top of Pre Rup, a small temple in the shadow of nearby giants like Angkor Thom and Angkor Wat.
Rainclouds are gathering on the horizon – as they have done every night since my arrival in Cambodia – but I am in no rush, knowing that any storm is still some hours away.
I gaze out over the dense jungle, the verdant foliage largely unchanged in the thousand years this building has stood here.
The view may not have changed much but everything around it incomparably has, and I realise that I have no conception what life was like for those that stood where I do a millennium ago.
And then I walk slowly down the stairs to my tuk-tuk and head back into town for a shower and a cold beer.
That’s more than enough reflection for one day.