Preah Vihear is a temple laid out as a climb. Almost every other Khmer temple is a compact enclosure opening to the east. This one runs 800 metres along a north-south axis, gaining 120 metres through five gateways, taken one courtyard and one serpent balustrade at a time, each threshold higher and quieter than the last. At the far end the ground simply stops. The sanctuary stands on the lip of a cliff that falls 525 metres, and Cambodia runs away flat beneath you: forest, red laterite tracks, villages, haze. On cold-season mornings mist lies in the plain until the sun burns it off. The temple was dedicated to Shiva as Sikharesvara, lord of the summit — a mountain god given a mountain to stand on.
Building began in the early 9th century, but the temple standing today was raised mostly under Suryavarman I and Suryavarman II, across the 11th and 12th centuries, generations before Angkor Wat. Its great entrance stairway faces north, into Thailand, and that has cost it. The International Court of Justice awarded Preah Vihear to Cambodia in 1962, but the border around it was never settled. The UNESCO listing of 2008 reopened the quarrel, and shellfire damaged the ruins in 2011. In July 2025 a five-day border war brought artillery and air strikes onto the promontory, and rockets followed that November. Cambodia's culture ministry has recorded damage at hundreds of points across the complex, all five gateways among them. Corridors have collapsed, soldiers hold the ridge, and the temple has stayed shut to visitors ever since, with no reopening date announced. For now it is a place to read about rather than climb.