For £3.50 a day, we hired a moped that sounded like it was held together by hope, rust, and possibly divine intervention, and off we buzzed toward Bokor National Park.

Riding Up to Bokor National Park by Moped

Bokor is one of those places that seems to have been designed by a committee that never met. You climb up through rainforest on a road with more bends than a politician’s promise, dodging monkeys who look like they’ve been waiting all day for an excuse to pick a fight with you. At the top, you’re rewarded with views that are spectacular for the thirty seconds before the clouds roll in and hide everything again. Atmospheric, yes. Practical for photography? Not so much. It’s like being teased by nature: “Here’s the Gulf of Thailand… oh, sorry, gone now.”

Monkey Territory: Bokor’s Least Forgiving Residents

This is definitely monkey territory. Not the cute, nibbling-a-banana kind.

The “this is my patch, keep moving” kind.

Every time we passed a red-hot alpha male, I silently begged the moped not to stall. I wasn’t about to negotiate with a monkey who looked like he’d been in more fights than Craig’s had hot dinners. Honestly, they seemed better organised than most governments — and far less forgiving.

Why Bokor Feels So Strange: A Brief History of Cambodia’s Hill Station

Bokor wasn’t always this gloriously confused. Back in the early 20th century, the French decided this misty mountaintop would make a perfect hill station — a cool escape from the heat below, complete with grand hotels, a church, and sweeping views when the clouds cooperated.

Then history did what it does best in Cambodia: it arrived loudly and stayed too long. Wars, abandonment, and the Khmer Rouge years emptied Bokor out, leaving buildings to rot gently in the mist. What you see now is the aftermath — layers of ambition, neglect, belief, and reinvention, all piled on top of each other and never quite smoothed out.

Which explains why Bokor feels less like a destination and more like a collection of half-finished thoughts.

Why Bokor Feels So Strange: A Brief History of Cambodia’s Hill Station

Bokor is amazing countryside dotted with a wild mix of the old, the new, the spiritual, and the downright abandoned.

At one turn, you’re greeted by a Big Buddha sitting peacefully above the clouds, serene and unbothered by the chaos below. It’s like he knows something we don’t.

A short walk away lies the Black Palace, which looks like the set of a low-budget horror film. It’s dark, mossy, and crumbling — the sort of place that makes you half expect a ghost to pop out and offer you tea.

Wander a little further and you stumble into an old Cambodian village, weathered and full of character, the kind of place that feels like it’s holding onto its stories just for you.

A Chinese temple lets its wind chimes do all the talking, while nearby The Palace stands as a relic from another era, its faded grandeur whispering of colonial escapes and long-gone luxury.

There are the odd street vendors too, though their wares give you the trots just by association. We briefly considered going back to the Black Palace ghost for tea and biscuits but opted instead for a petrol station snack. The Oro biscuit we picked up managed to leave my mouth both dry and emotionally empty — proof that not all mysteries of Bokor are spiritual.

And then, just when you think you’ve got the measure of the place, you stumble across vast Chinese hotels and casinos, some gleaming, some abandoned mid-construction. Bokor is now part national park, part redevelopment dream — and part cautionary tale. Why some buildings are finished and others simply stop is anyone’s guess. Bokor doesn’t explain itself.

It just lets you draw your own conclusions.

Together, it’s a jumble of history, spirituality, and mystery, stitched together on a mountaintop that refuses to be ordinary.

Exploring Around Bokor: Countryside, Pepper Farms & Red Dust Roads

Around Bokor, the countryside is a study in sameness: red dust roads with no signposts, only the occasional snake track to point the way. We scooted about aimlessly, honking at caves, waving at farmers, and passing acres of bananas, coconuts, and mangoes.

The area is famous for pepper, which we saw plenty of, though Craig insisted we’d done the pepper thing forty years ago and didn’t need a refresher. Apparently pepper doesn’t change much in four decades — though it remains the only spice that has managed to stay interesting for millennia.

Is Bokor National Park Worth Visiting?

Bokor is one of those places that shouldn’t make sense but absolutely does. A misty mountain full of monkeys, colonial ruins, giant Buddhas, wind chimes, pepper bushes, and half-built casinos? Yes please.

And for £3.50 a day, the moped earned its keep — mainly by not breaking down in front of a furious monkey.

Because let’s face it: this isn’t backpack travel.

This is back pain travel — and Bokor delivers it with style.

ps – sorry the photos are not placed as normal but internet really bad.