On 9 October 2013 at 10:45 I heard the final call for all passengers on flight FD2755. A new adventure and a new rush of excitement ran through me. What will the people be like? How good will the food be? How similar will it look to its iconic photographs? I boarded at gate 6 in Don Mueang, Bangkok Airport and just over one hour later had arrived in what I now believe is a land of natural beauty like no other in Southeast Asia. I stepped out from the plane and took my first breath of air in Yangon, Myanmar.
Whilst sitting in the taxi from the airport heading to Garden Guest House, I gazed out of the window like a child in a sweet store. As the collection of old rustic Toyota taxis waited patiently at the red traffic lights, one does not have to look far to spot a traditional Burmese temple painted in gold leaf. After one hour in the taxi of almost silence due to a lack of a common language, I noticed the roads becoming smaller and sometimes even nothing but dirt. As the road width decreased, the number of people increased. Buildings towered over the roads providing relief from the midday heat. I had arrived in downtown Yangon.
Yangon felt like a taste of India placed on a New York road grid system. Unfortunately, my taxi driver could not work the grid system and could therefore not find my guest house. Having spent over two hours in the taxi, he appeared to be welcoming the idea of me walking. Myself, on the other hand, was reluctant to move at all as I was rather enjoying my personal tour around the city. Nonetheless, all good things must come to an end and rather than walking around the city centre, tired, hungry and hot looking for accommodation (one of every backpacker's nightmare) I was prepared for such an occasion. I had saved the name of two hotels on my phone and was now relying on my backup; Beauty Land II. To both mine and the taxi driver's delight, I was soon to be greeted by a very friendly Burmese man working at the hotel who kindly offered to take my bag. I am always hesitant to pass my bag to a member of staff at hotels because they seem shocked by the weight of the bag. But what do they expect? - it's not a weekend break!
At $30 per night, I was slightly hesitant to agree on a room but my eagerness to get out and explore the city was too great. After checking in and throwing my bag on the floor like a schoolboy when he arrives home, I double-checked my daysack for the essentials: camera, portable phone charger, water, wallet and map. I was ready to go. I walked around the dusty streets, jumping at almost every car that drove past me beeping its horn. I stopped and admired the local markets and in return, the locals stopped and stared at me. Many of the children would shout "hello" and ask for my name, followed by a smile that is so genuine you can not resist but smile back. Whilst exploring the city I stopped in a small cafe for an ice-cold drink. Here I met another backpacker, Jan from China. She had already travelled the northern part of Myanmar and was to fly back home the next day. We agreed to head to the Sky Bistro Bar in Sakura Tower for food and watch the sunset. The Sky Bar has a relaxing atmosphere and serves traditional Burmese food. The panoramic views of the city are fantastic and reveal the true grandeur of the majestic Shwedagon Pagoda. However, I was surprised to hear the likes of Eminem and Rihanna playing over the stereo. As the night sky soon became the backdrop behind the pagoda and the temperature lowered, we decided now would be a good time to visit the temple.
The Shwedagon Pagoda is built from 33699 blocks of solid gold and holds 5448 diamonds. I wonder what the insurance is on that? The temple is simply fascinating. After buying a ticket to enter I agreed to get a local guide to show us around the complex. Our guide was a university lecturer by day and temple guide tour by night. With excellent English and profound knowledge of his country and the Pagoda, I would highly recommend a tour guide at this top tourist attraction. As we walked around the pagoda in a clockwise fashion, we were taken to a spot that revealed the precious stones at the top of the pagoda. There are various marking on the floor, and as you move forward to each marking the light reflects differently through the emerald stone at the top of the temple and different colours appeared. It was beautiful to see that something so large still had small elegant details.
The next morning I visited The House of Memories which was the home occupied by General Aung San. The house has been preserved well and has retained General Aung San's original typewriter, desk and photographs. The food and service were great and the waiters were very friendly and inquisitive. After a fruit shake, I travelled to Yangon's train ticket office to confirm my journey to Thazi for $24. Whilst I was there I inquired about the famous circular train - a train network that loops around the city centre. I decided to walk to the main train station and board the circular train for a mere $1. The journey lasts three hours and provides some spectacular scenery and an insight into local life. Many food markets were arranged in the stations themselves so the train was an excellent way to experience what was happening.
The following morning I woke up at 05:25, twenty-five minutes after my phone alarm should have woken me and five minutes before I wanted to leave. It took little time to calculate that I was unable to shower and pack my bag in this time so I had no choice but to bypass the shower. I packed my bag and rushed out of the door, eyes barely open, with a look of determination to get on my train to Thazi.
Thirteen hours later having stopped at various stations with locals coming onto the train walking down the isles and trying their best efforts to sell me large quantities of fruit and vegetables, I arrived in the quiet town of Thazi. A horse and cart took me to Moon Light Guesthouse which, at only $10 per night, and an excellent traditional curry available in the restaurant, felt like a bargain. I was tired and after eating went almost straight to sleep to prepare for the following day which would be the day I catch the famous slow train from Thazi.
The night soon passed and I found myself sitting on my seat on the train, glaring out over the open window waiting for the morning sun to rise over the distant mountains and cast light on Thazi's train station. Having bought my ticket with the assistance of my taxi driver, he then escorted me to my carriage and bid me farewell. I waited in anticipation and looked around the cabin, large grey padded seats, wooden flooring and many of what appeared to be Myanmar's middle class playing with their smartphones. It was then when I was observing the man in front of me, with his western designer clothes and iPhone I felt something warm touch the side of my face; sunrise had finally arrived. This was important because not only did this provide an opportunity for some great photos, it also represented the time for the train to depart. Unfortunately, this was not the case as there was a forty-five-minute delay, but when travelling I cannot fire up my British cultural values and complain about the late departure of this train and demand a refund or to speak to the person responsible. The rules are simple, the train will leave when it leaves and if you don't like it, we wish you the best of luck in finding alternative transport. But finally, that moment had come, the train reluctantly nudged forward and the engine's deep sleep had been stirred.
That night I arrived in Inle Lake and checked in to Joy Hotel with Camille, a backpacker I shared a taxi with from the train station to the hotel. Once we unpacked our bags and freshened up we wandered around the dusty streets to familiarise ourselves with our new location. I was surprised to find so many Burmese people at one of the country's top tourist attractions. I was expecting a Khao San Road of tourists, but this was not the case. Although I have no doubt in the near future it will be very different. I also noticed a lot of the Burmese people there were young and many seemed to be dressed according to their group of friends. It reminded me of the T Birds and Pink Ladies in Grease, particularly as they seemed to don similar jackets. At Inle I noticed a lot more shops selling their traditional Burmese chewing gum: the areca nut or more commonly known as betel nut. The shops display betel nut tree leaves panned out like playing cards on top of bamboo baskets. Next to these are large buckets of betel nut cut into different sizes and bowels full of slaked lime. This is consumed in many parts of Asia, but the word of advice to anyone thinking about trying it, make sure you are near a place where you can spit it out! Although in Myanmar this is not a problem because the ground is the location of choice for all Burmese men wishing to disregard their traditional gum.
The next day I rented out a bicycle much like the ones you find in Amsterdam to look around the area. Unfortunately, the roads are not the same as those found in Amsterdam and is almost like riding with square wheels. Nonetheless, Camille and I persevered with the hope to find a wine shop we had seen on a map. Unfortunately, after about two hours of cycling, we could not find any wine, but we did find a monastery set up high on a hill overlooking the lake. The views from the top were fascinating and reveal the grandness of the lake - it's huge! Whilst in the monastery we were welcomed into the home of a nun, no common language except the smile, and she offered us green tea served in tiny china cups, betel nut and another dish similar to Bombay mix. The food was delicious and the company was refreshing. Looking around her home, it was so basic, so simple, yet it had everything she needed. It even had a porch and a cat. Reluctantly Camille and I left the home and walked back down to the main road ready to head back to the hotel. It was getting late and we felt we did not have time to ride back before darkness fell, especially when allowing time to get lost. We went to the wooden bridge which was a recommended spot to see the sun finally set over Inle. As we arrived at the bridge the sun was slowly starting to rest and the dark blues and purples were increasingly occupying the sky. We took some photos and put our bikes on a boat to get back to our hotel. Cruising along a canal I was thinking about what I will be doing that night. To my surprise, the vegetation that formed the sides of the canal suddenly disappeared and opened up into what was something so beautiful, so grand, so peaceful: Inle Lake. As we shot into the lake in front of us were mountains that seemed picturesque and in the far distance, you could see nothing but silhouettes of more mountains stacked haphazardly amongst each other. Yet the most magnificent thing about this moment was the colour of the sky. There was a panoramic view of where the sun started its journey to where it now finished. On my right was the blackness of the night sky, behind me, was a combination of navy blues and violets, and to my left was no doubt the best sunset I have ever seen. The sun appeared reluctant to rest behind the mountains and even when it did, there was a gold halo shining bright at the top of the mountains. An unforgettable experience.
The next day I was in a boat on Inle Lake from sunrise to sunset. There was a holy festival in the morning and a larger one in the afternoon which consists of four Buddha statues being transported to the various villages around the lake to bless the monasteries. With many flamboyant decorations, Inle's famous leg rowers and a handful of tourists it was an experience not to be missed. Throughout the day our boatman took us to various locations around the lake, from a cigar factory, lotus silk factory, floating markets and Inle's pagoda. At this point, I was wondering what to do the following day and realised I had seen everything I wanted to see at Inle. When the boat pulled in to the pier I went back to my hotel and was lucky enough to book the final seat on a bus going to Bagan that night.
Having travelled on many overnight buses all over Southeast Asia I was preparing myself for the worst. Indeed, my preparation was needed but nothing can really prepare you for tiredness. Nonetheless nine hours after departing from the bus station at Inle Lake I was pulling into the bus station in Bagan, the land of temples. I checked in to Pann Cherry guest house at $7 per night, fan only. The room was great. It had everything I needed and nothing more - perfect. The only downside was it only had one plug which meant every night I had to make a choice, charge my phone and camera, or have the fan on. Bagan was the destination I had been looking forward to the most, I was hoping to get a place on the hot air balloon ride but everyone I had spoken to throughout the trip said all the agencies are booked months in advance. I met couples on their honeymoon who were let down because they simply turned up hoping for space. I don't know why but I never felt like I needed to reserve my place, in my head I had no alternative but to go on the balloon ride. I asked the young guy at my hotel reception if he could book me a space on tomorrow's balloon flight for sunrise. He nodded, smiled and then phoned Bagan Balloons. At this point, I started worrying, what happens if it is fully booked? I can only stay at most an extra day because I already had my outbound flight booked from Mandalay. I listened carefully to what he said on the phone as if I could understand Burmese and studied his facial expressions to guess what his answer will be. He put the phone down, looked at me, revealed all the betel nut in between his teeth by giving me a huge smile and said: "no problem Sir. It's booked for tomorrow". I was happy but confused about why I had so much ease getting a place the next day. I was sure not to question him and as long as I had my receipt saying I had paid, I felt secure.
For lunch, I decided to visit Aroma (2) the 'one and only authentic Indian food in town'. Offering a surprisingly good warranty of 'no good no pay' and reading many positive reviews I thought I'd give it a try. The food was displayed in traditional thali style dishes and the sauces worked great with my curry and poppodoms. Food was served by the children of the chefs and they carried it from the kitchen to table with a look of determination on their face not to drop any on the floor. Once placed on the table, a look of huge relief filled the girls' face. I was surprised to see so much food for the price and eagerly took my first bite. In the past when I have had Indian style curries in Asian countries they are never quite what I had hoped. Aroma 2 was brilliant and is a must for any traveller looking to taste authentic Indian curry in Bagan; or even those looking for a little gastric encouragement.
Later that day I cycled around different temples and was even able to climb up one just in time to see the magnificent sunset - but it still didn't beat the one at Inle Lake. In some ways Bagan was a disappointment because I already knew what to expect, I knew there are 2000 plus temples scattered all across the land. But the sunset over Inle Lake shocked me, the element of surprise cannot be beaten. Yet the sunset was still beautiful and before it was too dark I decided to remove my phone from its case to take a better photo of myself with the sun setting in the background. When I shortly returned back to my hotel, I emptied out the contents of my daysack onto my bed and desperately tried to work out what was missing. It was something important. Then I realised, my phone case was still on top of the temple. Usually, this would not bother me because the case itself has no value. However, inside the case was my bank card, and on that card was my only means of funding my trip. I ran out to reception and explained my situation. They offered to drive me to the temple in the hope it had not already closed. Although sitting in a car felt like a luxury, it was too late. I returned back to my single plug socket room and decided now was the perfect time for a traditional Burmese massage.
After a refreshing but cold shower, I rode down the street to a sign I had seen during the day advertising traditional massage. I walked into what appeared to be the front of someone's home. An old lady got up from watching television and told me to lay on the bamboo bed. I was just hoping I had come to the right place. After a few minutes, I started to relax while the lady's firm hands massaged my legs. I was apprehensive at first hoping the massage would not be similar to that of Thailand's traditional massage as I can't relax when someone is trying to pull and push my body into positions it just does not go in to. To my surprise, the Burmese massage was more what I had hoped for, and more importantly what I needed. A deep tissue massage, relieving the tension in my legs, back and neck from all the long train journeys, lack of sleep and now the mental worries of losing my bank card. I returned back to my hotel feeling like jelly. I decided to sit outside in the communal area drinking sweet cold Myanmar beer, eating that same Bombay mix combo I had in the nun's home at Inle, and speak to a very well-travelled guy from Germany. It was a good night.
At 04:45 my phone alarm was ringing and I was out of bed and ready for my balloon ride within minutes. I waited at reception for the bus to collect me and it was not a minute late. It was what appeared to be an old army van and luckily for me, it was only carrying three other passengers. I was excited. A sunrise balloon ride over Bagan with only myself and a handful of other passengers. This dream was short-lived as when I arrived at the take-off site I was greeted by another thirty people who had also booked the balloon ride, thankfully not all in the same basket! We had coffee and biscuits but I was more distracted by the preparation of the balloons. By now it's 05.45 and the sun will soon be visible. It was rather fascinating watching the teams work on their balloons, preparing them, setting them up and then carrying out one last check. Part of the checks requires testing the thrusters which blast out a huge flame. I was speaking to an old lady from America, she had big thick white classes on and gazed up at me as she spoke. We had both never been on a hot air balloon before and had saved our first time to be Bagan. As I turned to speak with her after sipping on my strong coffee, I saw the reflection of the flame from the thrusters in her glasses. It was like someone had turned on a light switch.
Shortly after the sun started to rise we were ready to go. All the passengers were put into groups and told to go to their allocated balloons. I was sharing with an American family who now lives and works in Kuala Lumpur. They were the typical nuclear family. As our balloon rose to what looks like the same height as the sun, I paused for a moment just to admire the scenery. After reading so many reviews about the balloon ride over Bagan, I was now experiencing it first hand. It was an amazing sight. Everywhere, as far as the eye could see, was a temple surrounded by dense and varying shades of green. I felt surprisingly safe in the basket although I think this was more due to the fact I was convinced my pilot had been in the army, the way he spoke was extremely regimental. Too soon was the flight over and we arrived to a warm welcome of locals selling various souvenirs and croissants, cake and champagne provided by the balloon company. Later in the day, I went back to the temple where I left my visa card and watched the sunset once again.
The following morning I was up early to get the MGRG Express boat from Nyaung Oo to Mandalay. A peaceful journey northbound up the Ayeyarwaddy River lasting nine hours and made even better by only having five other passengers on board. Whilst waiting for the sun to rise sitting on the top deck of the boat, I suspected the coffee was free when I was given a cup merely half full of coffee. I sat there contemplating when the coffee jug would be brought around to refill. Sadly, I would have been waiting for a long time. So I ordered another coffee and to little surprise, it was another half a cup full. But then I started to think, if my ticket entitles me to a free cup of coffee, have I now consumed two cups or did I have half before and half now? My thoughts were broken when I noticed the size of the camera used by one of the passengers. From a distance, it looked like an extra limb. I watched in fascination while he photographed things that no one else could see - perhaps only NASA - and neglected his partner.
Just as promised nine hours later I arrived at Mandalay. Due to the city's history, I expected to see more development, similar to that in Yangon but this was simply not the case. I jumped into a taxi with a fellow passenger from the boat and we headed to the Royal Guest House in the heart of the city. By this time into my journey, my bank cards were useless because my bank decided to block them for my own security - how kind. I was on a very tight budget. Thankfully a single room at the Royal Guest House was only $12 and it had an internet connection like no other in the whole of Myanmar. I could send messages and upload photos before planet earth orbits the sun. I felt like I had stepped into the future. I spent my last day in Mandalay cycling around the southern and western districts of the city. I did, I confess, stay a little too long in one of Mandalay's beer houses that served beer so cold your lips would stick to the glass if you were not careful. This day was also a holiday so unfortunately most of the shops were closed which only justified spending more time trying the different varieties of beer. After a long break, I continued around the city stopping at various workshops making Buddha statues from stone and being welcomed in by the shop owners. Soon the night arrived and I had a sobering thought that tomorrow I will be leaving Myanmar. Due to an early flight, I made sure I had a good night sleep and was content about my pleasant experience in Myanmar.
Myanmar is a country like no other in Southeast Asia. Due to its political history, it remains unspoiled by mass hordes of tourism and various companies hoping to exploit its money-making potential. The best thing about the country is by far the people. They are so genuine when speaking with you, asking your name and giving you directions to your destination. If you are contemplating a trip to Myanmar, now is the time to go. It is without a doubt a deeply unique and fascinating country and is sure to be set on the backpacker's path in the near future.
Myanmar: The Land of Preserved Beauty in Southeast Asia