I remember being shown the countries of Myanmar and Laos in the distance while riding the boat on the Mekong River when I visited Chiang Rai in January 2008. I remember thinking, ‘OK, I’m so going to visit those countries one day.’ In fact, I did step onto Laotian soil when we docked at the small village by the river for a short while. I had since managed to visit Laos at the end of last year, alhamdulillah.
Now flights to Yangon from KL on the national carrier don’t come cheap. They average more than RM1500 for a return trip so when I managed to get a return flight for RM507, I was chuffed (only to find the fare went down to RM3xx a few weeks later $%#!&_%&^*). And so this is my account of my trip to The Golden Land. (Before I forget, thank you, Rosman, for lending me your camera).
Friday, 9 October 2009. KUL-RGN
Mingalabar, The Golden Land!
Left home early on Friday morning for my flight to Yangon. Checked in my bag at KL Sentral and then hopped onto the ERL Transit to KLIA. Here’s a confession: I always fantasise on sitting next to a single, handsome, eligible, witty chap and we’d chat for hours on the flight. But just my luck, my fellow passengers were not ‘appetising’. We landed at Yangon International Airport at 1115 in the morning local time (Myanmar is 1.5 hours behind). The arrival process was pretty quick: thanks to the small terminal, the immigration area was only a short distance from the arrival hall. As is normal in other countries, there were separate counters for foreigners and locals. Two officers sat at each counter (and it took both of them to process each passport). My bag took a short while to appear (I read that every piece of luggage would be x-rayed before being put on the conveyer belt) and when I walked out, the bloke from the hotel was already waiting. I’ve already alerted the hotel that I needed to pick up some tickets at the domestic terminal (next building, separate entrance) so he drove me there and waited while I went in.
The Yangon Airways office, just like the rest of the domestic airline terminal, looked like a setting straight from the 1970s in ambience and character (I’d be depressed if I worked there for sure). One girl wrote out my tickets (yes, manually) – you’d think this had already been done as they knew I was coming to collect the tickets but no, the tickets were only written out there and then. I paid the rest of my fare amount in USD (half had already been charged against my credit card at the time of booking – this is standard procedure for the airline).
I met the guy who showed me the way to the airline office and he asked me for a tip. I apologised and said I didn’t have any small change, which was the truth anyway. And whatever happened to good old-fashioned doing something without expecting to be rewarded, I felt like asking. He repeated his request, I repeated my apology and walked off to find the car, muttering an expletive along the way. Turned out he followed me to the car and again I apologised and then pointedly ignored him. Even Indonesians don’t ask for tips when I asked for directions. And whoever heard of tipping for getting some direction?!
We drove to the city in the dilapidated vehicle. Free pick-up so no complaints (and no AC either. You’d have thought in a country as hot as Myanmar, they’d have air-conditioned vehicles). We passed by Inya Lake (the largest lake in Yangon) and the beautiful villas along the lake (I read they belong to the military leaders), Yangon University, the huge and imposing Shwedagon Phaya (Shwedagon Pagoda), Kandawgyi Lake with the floating restaurant Karaweik, some roundabouts, numerous junctions and sad-looking buildings. It’s a huge city, I can tell you that much.
We reached Ocean Pearl Inn at about 1220. I checked in and performed prayers before venturing out and made my way to Botataung Pagoda near the Yangon River (didn’t go in). Then I turned back and asked for directions for Bogyoke Aung San Market and was told it was very far away (one person said it was 15 km away. Another told me it was 3 km away). Best to take a taxi, I was told. I decided to just walk and explore the neighbourhood and before long, found myself passing landmarks on the little map provided by my hostel and 20 minutes later, found the market. Hah! This was when I got my first taster of Burmese roads and sidewalks. They were terrible! The city, the heat, the dust, the bad sidewalks, even the people all reminded me of India; I was only surprised that I didn’t see any homeless people living on the streets. You will also see men walking in their longyi, women smothered in thanaka (traditional make-up) and betel-chewing enthusiasts chewing and spitting blood-red juice almost everywhere (the roads and sidewalks are all stained because of this). Still, it’s authentic Asia with overflowing buses and pick-ups, potholed roads, and no 7-11 or McDonald’s in sight. Anyway, back to Bogyoke Market: it is renowned for its gem, handicrafts and fabric shops. You can also find musical instruments, ethnic goods, lacquerware and longyis (long sarong favoured by the men for everywhere everyday wear).
The market is the best place to go change your USD into Kyat (black market) and before long, I was approached by some Indian guys. Oh yes, there are a lot of Indians (as I discovered in the plane this morning) in Yangon. I wanted to buy some pictures made from pieces of gemstones carefully and beautifully arranged to depict sceneries, Makkah and Haram, Madinah, Quranic words, etc and had already selected a few. But I needed Kyat (pronounce as chart) to pay for them and followed a guy to change money. ‘Are you Turkish?’ I was asked (ha! Me, a Turk! That was the first time). They quoted me some rate (larger denominations of the greenback are quoted differently than smaller denominations) but when they saw my USD20 notes, they quoted me another (lower) rate. I was not happy with this as I had only changed my MYR into USD the day before and besides, those notes are legal for tender anyway. They explained that banks in Myanmar would not accept those bills. I couldn’t help it, I lost my temper and said, fine, I wouldn’t change my money after all. I took back my bills and stalked off. As if it was my fault that I got old USD notes!
I left the market empty-handed (after two more encounters with picky moneychangers) and walked back to the hostel. I changed money there instead – the hostel manager just took my bills without commenting. Ha!
An early night tonight as I was already sleepy by 8.30 pm local time (hey, that’s 10 pm in KL!). Oh, and another thing: there’s no network coverage in Myanmar for my mobile number.
Saturday, 10 October 2009. RGN-NYU
The Amazing Race
Another early morning start for me. Woke at 4 am local time and left at 5. Taxi was already waiting since 4.40 am but I told him to wait as I wanted to perform prayers first. We drove out into the dawn and yet there were already people in the street: women balancing pots on their heads, workers sweeping the streets and buses already full with passengers. There were no street lights in some parts/areas of Yangon and I was glad I didn’t venture out for dinner the night before. The roads and sidewalks were bad enough during the day, how does one avoid the potholes in the dark? As poor as most of them are, I didn’t see any homeless people sleeping on pavements and whatnot. During the walk yesterday, I was thinking if the Myanmar people have any idea of the oppression and suppression they are under and if they do, whether they plan to do something about it or not. It’s such a shame to see a big country rich in natural resources and gems fall into such a state.
I do not in any way condone the oppression of the military junta in Myanmar and I hope my visit will not indirectly contribute to the funding of the military junta activity. My trip was solely to experience a new country, a new culture, a new adventure and meet new people and get a taste of the local life.
Anyway, back to my story. It was a silent ride to the domestic airport. We reached the airport at 5.30 am and I quickly checked in. Nothing to browse so I went in to the boarding area immediately. There was a shop selling titbits and some postcards, a lady manning a newspapers stall, an airport restaurant on the first floor (which seemed empty), seats for passengers, restrooms and that was it. Oh and by the way, announcements were made by some guys walking around with placards announcing the destination and airline and calling out to passengers. Primitive, eh.
We boarded a shuttle the short distance to the plane. It was a small aircraft and before long, we were strapped in our seats and the plane began to taxi down the runway. It took only an hour plus to fly to Bagan/Nyaung Oo as opposed to hours on the old trains (more than 15 hours from Yangon to Mandalay and from Mandalay, you need to take another train or boat to Bagan. Too long and I didn’t have the luxury of time). And no, I didn’t plan to stay the whole duration in Yangon; if I do that, I’d be bored out of my skull.
Landed at Bagan Nyang Oo Airport at 0750. All foreign passengers have to pay USD10 Bagan Archaeological Zone Admission Fee (and your lodging would also want to look at this when you check in). Took a taxi (Kyat5000) to Golden Village Hotel whose manager showed me two single rooms (the one with TV cost USD10, the one without cost USD6), I doubted I’d watch much TV anyway so took the room without the TV. He also offered a taxi-cum-guide service for USD27 (the cabbie and guide from the airport quoted me USD35) so I agreed on the fee. Now, there are more than 2,000 pagodas and stupas around Bagan (previously, there were more than 4,000 but about half was destroyed in the earthquake in 1975).
We left for our Amazing Race around Bagan Archaeological Park and visited the following: Shwezigon Phaya, Kyan Zit Thar Cave (with cave paintings), Gi Byauk Kyi, Htilominlo Gupha-gyi, Upalithein, Khay Min Gha Phaya (which I climbed up for a view over the plains), Anadha Phaya, Shwe gu-Gyi, Thatbyinnyu Phaya (tallest structure), Dhammayangyi Pahto, Sulamani Pahto, Gaw Daw Palin Phaya and Mahabodhi Temple (where a lady applied some thanaka on my face) before stopping for lunch at The Moon Vegetarian Restaurant for lunch. It was a good thing I finally decided to wear my Crocs over my Converse shoes as you need to open your shoes and socks and walk barefooted into all the pagodas; in fact you need to walk barefoot from the entrance all the way leading into the pagoda! It’d be troublesome to slip in and out of my socks and Converse (plus I could always wash the dust and dirt off my Crocs). So if you’re going to Bagan, bear this in mind. It’s essential to pack the right footwear and apparel.
The driver sent me back to the hotel as it was too hot to go around in the afternoon. And it sure was blinking hot. At my last pagoda, the pavement was already too hot to walk on that I felt like I was walking on fire in some Thaipusam ritual.
We continued our Amazing Race at 3.30 pm. It was still hot but at least the sun had gone down a bit. We went to Iza Guwina Pagoda, Phaya Thonzu Phaya, Tayako Phay Temple (for a view of Bagan), Dhamma Yi Zi Ka Pagoda, Lawkananda Pagoda (in New Bagan, by the mighty Ayeryawaddy River), Marudha Phaya (where there was a gigantic Buddha) and a last temple (which name I didn’t catch) to catch the sunset.
Then it was back to the hotel. I ventured out for dinner and had dinner at a restaurant called Wonderful Tasty. A set meal cost me only about USD2.5 or Kyat2500. The service was painfully slow (I waited about 30 minutes) but the food was quite good.
I was repeatedly told that my one-night stay in Nyaung Oo/Bagan was too short and that I should ideally stay for 2-3 days but really, when I reflected on it, there are only so many temples I can see before they all start to look the same. And I wasn’t too pleased to take off my footwear before entering the temples but after a while, I got used to it. But doing that for two/three days, hmmm... The best time to go to Nyaung Oo/Bagan (and the country as a whole) is November-January as it’s just too hot in other months. The upside is though there are less tourists outside these months and the locals have more time to chat with the tourists. The downside is it’s just too blinking and blinding HOT.
Sunday, 11 October 2009. NYU-MDY
The Road To Mandalay
Set the alarm for 0530 local time for prayers. I’d earlier requested for an early breakfast at 0630 as my pre-arranged cab would come at 7 to take me to the airport. At about 0615, there was a blackout (this is normal throughout the country)... just like in Hanoi. Good thing I’d already dressed and packed and ready to go; besides it was already bright outside. Left after breakfast and reached the airport at 7.10 am. Thankfully, there were other passengers who checked in after me. Somehow there were a lot more foreigners at Nyaung Oo Airport than at Yangon domestic airport (not to mention, the former was so much more modern too).
It was a 25-minute flight to Mandalay Airport from Bagan (as opposed to eight hours by road) but the Mandalay Airport was about an hour from the city. Thankfully there’s a shared taxi (van, more like) service for Kyat4000 pax. I joined a couple from New York with their little son, a Chinese guy and a Chinese-looking couple (from Thailand I think).
I asked the driver to drop me at the Royal Guesthouse which I earmarked from various other lodgings in this list. They have two types of rooms: one with fan and shared bathroom at USD5, the other with fan and air-conditioning and own bathroom at USD8. After looking at both, I decided to take the USD8 room. Another upside to visiting Myanmar during off-peak season: you’ll always get a room!
I rode a pick-up to-and-fro Kuthodaw Phaya, the site of the world’s largest book, at the foot of the Mandalay Hill. 729 white stupas within the complex contain the complete text of Tripitaka, Theravada Buddhism’s most sacred text. Then I went to Zegyo Market and after confirming that it was indeed closed on Sundays, walked to another market instead at 77th street between 26th and 27th streets (this is how addresses in Mandalay are like). A late lunch was had at a small restaurant and I had Panthei Kausweh (Muslim Chinese noodles). The restaurant hygiene looked suspect but the noodles tasted very, very good. Cheap (at Kyat700 only!) and very tasty.
Summary: Mandalay is the second largest city in Myanmar. I found it like a big cowboy town. Dusty and dirty in some places with really horrible roads. Again, I was so happy I decided to wear Crocs as I could wash them every time I returned to my room. And the dust! It’s like there’s a desert nearby with all the sand and dust blowing into the city. I suppose the city inhabitants just accept the dust and sand as part of everyday life and live with it. Just like Yangon, walking in the city especially after mid-morning is a challenge and you feel like you’re walking in a sauna and at the end of the day, you feel like you’ve lost so much weight from all that sweating. Not exactly a work-out I was looking forward to. I don’t mind walking and have done a fair share of it if I may say so myself but really, walking in Asia is so much more challenging than in dry Europe. And had Kipling actually been to the city, I doubt he’d be impressed either.
I returned back to the guesthouse after my late lunch and showered the dust and dirt off. Stayed in for the rest of the day as was not keen to collect more dust and sand on myself and clothes.
Monday, 12 October 2009. MDY-HEH-RGN/RGN-KUL
Going Gaga Over Gems
Another early start as airport ‘taxi’ pick-up was at 0630. Another bumpy hour-long ride to the airport was endured.
The flight was scheduled to depart at 0850 but it departed at 0835 and stopped at Heho en route to Yangon. On hindsight, maybe I should’ve just flown to Heho from Bagan and on to Inle Lake near the town of Nyaungshwe. Oh well, maybe next time, if there’s a next time. All this domestic flying is not cheap (they all totalled to more what I paid for my return flight to Yangon).
But really, flying is so much easier to bear than say, a gruelling 8-hour bus ride from Mandalay to Bagan. And it’s such a vast country, Myanmar is, and the ground transportation either not reliable or slow. What also depressed me is the level of poverty evident everywhere. I reckon it’ll take decades just to eradicate or overcome if at all.
Anyway, we landed at Yangon International Airport (this was what was announced and what was stated on the building but in reality, it was the sad old domestic terminal) at 1015, some 35 minutes ahead of scheduled time. I was very impressed with the service of Yangon Airways and would recommend it. I was initially worried about getting back to Yangon in time for my 1250 flight (what if there was a delay?) but I needn’t have worried after all. Throughout my stay and time at the airports, I only saw one domestic flight being delayed (can’t remember what airline); the others all took off on time or way before scheduled time. Impressive!
There were already dozens of porters standing by ready to grab our bags. I hate this. I hate having someone assuming the liberty of carrying my bag and then expecting to be paid for it. In KL, this service is free (free porter service at ERL Transit and Express stations) but in Myanmar, just like Indonesia, you have to be wary of all these people profiting from unsuspecting tourists.
I quickly got hold of my bag and walked out of the building into the sun and walked the short distance to the international airport. There were a lot of people outside the airport (equally many to send those flying off) and I checked in immediately. Went to the immigration where again there were two officers at every counter. The duty-free area was dominated by gem kiosks and I spent considerable time going from one kiosk to another (I was reminded of my stolen jewelleries and felt a bit sad looking at them). I stopped browsing for a while and went to perform prayers and resumed browsing after that. So much so when I looked up, I saw ‘Gate Closed’ on the screen and all but ran to my gate. So many gemstones to see, so little time and USD left (and credit card not accepted, which was probably a blessing).
Reached KL at 4.55 pm and ran to get the 1722 train (good thing my bag came out early). So that was my trip to Myanmar. Will I be back? If yes, not outside the months of November-January, I should think. Anyway, I think it was a good trip. Sometimes we need a trip like this to remind ourselves of what we have, instead of just focussing on what we don’t already have.
Note: Malaysia Airlines flies to Yangon (not daily) and so does Myanmar Airways International. Everyone needs visa to enter the country (you need three passport-sized photos and pay some amount to get the visa processed). I’d recommend flying within the country especially if your stay is as short as mine. You get anything from Kyat1020 to Kyat1070 for every USD1, depending on the greenback bill denomination.
Now flights to Yangon from KL on the national carrier don’t come cheap. They average more than RM1500 for a return trip so when I managed to get a return flight for RM507, I was chuffed (only to find the fare went down to RM3xx a few weeks later $%#!&_%&^*). And so this is my account of my trip to The Golden Land. (Before I forget, thank you, Rosman, for lending me your camera).
Friday, 9 October 2009. KUL-RGN
Mingalabar, The Golden Land!
Left home early on Friday morning for my flight to Yangon. Checked in my bag at KL Sentral and then hopped onto the ERL Transit to KLIA. Here’s a confession: I always fantasise on sitting next to a single, handsome, eligible, witty chap and we’d chat for hours on the flight. But just my luck, my fellow passengers were not ‘appetising’. We landed at Yangon International Airport at 1115 in the morning local time (Myanmar is 1.5 hours behind). The arrival process was pretty quick: thanks to the small terminal, the immigration area was only a short distance from the arrival hall. As is normal in other countries, there were separate counters for foreigners and locals. Two officers sat at each counter (and it took both of them to process each passport). My bag took a short while to appear (I read that every piece of luggage would be x-rayed before being put on the conveyer belt) and when I walked out, the bloke from the hotel was already waiting. I’ve already alerted the hotel that I needed to pick up some tickets at the domestic terminal (next building, separate entrance) so he drove me there and waited while I went in.
The Yangon Airways office, just like the rest of the domestic airline terminal, looked like a setting straight from the 1970s in ambience and character (I’d be depressed if I worked there for sure). One girl wrote out my tickets (yes, manually) – you’d think this had already been done as they knew I was coming to collect the tickets but no, the tickets were only written out there and then. I paid the rest of my fare amount in USD (half had already been charged against my credit card at the time of booking – this is standard procedure for the airline).
I met the guy who showed me the way to the airline office and he asked me for a tip. I apologised and said I didn’t have any small change, which was the truth anyway. And whatever happened to good old-fashioned doing something without expecting to be rewarded, I felt like asking. He repeated his request, I repeated my apology and walked off to find the car, muttering an expletive along the way. Turned out he followed me to the car and again I apologised and then pointedly ignored him. Even Indonesians don’t ask for tips when I asked for directions. And whoever heard of tipping for getting some direction?!
We drove to the city in the dilapidated vehicle. Free pick-up so no complaints (and no AC either. You’d have thought in a country as hot as Myanmar, they’d have air-conditioned vehicles). We passed by Inya Lake (the largest lake in Yangon) and the beautiful villas along the lake (I read they belong to the military leaders), Yangon University, the huge and imposing Shwedagon Phaya (Shwedagon Pagoda), Kandawgyi Lake with the floating restaurant Karaweik, some roundabouts, numerous junctions and sad-looking buildings. It’s a huge city, I can tell you that much.
We reached Ocean Pearl Inn at about 1220. I checked in and performed prayers before venturing out and made my way to Botataung Pagoda near the Yangon River (didn’t go in). Then I turned back and asked for directions for Bogyoke Aung San Market and was told it was very far away (one person said it was 15 km away. Another told me it was 3 km away). Best to take a taxi, I was told. I decided to just walk and explore the neighbourhood and before long, found myself passing landmarks on the little map provided by my hostel and 20 minutes later, found the market. Hah! This was when I got my first taster of Burmese roads and sidewalks. They were terrible! The city, the heat, the dust, the bad sidewalks, even the people all reminded me of India; I was only surprised that I didn’t see any homeless people living on the streets. You will also see men walking in their longyi, women smothered in thanaka (traditional make-up) and betel-chewing enthusiasts chewing and spitting blood-red juice almost everywhere (the roads and sidewalks are all stained because of this). Still, it’s authentic Asia with overflowing buses and pick-ups, potholed roads, and no 7-11 or McDonald’s in sight. Anyway, back to Bogyoke Market: it is renowned for its gem, handicrafts and fabric shops. You can also find musical instruments, ethnic goods, lacquerware and longyis (long sarong favoured by the men for everywhere everyday wear).
The market is the best place to go change your USD into Kyat (black market) and before long, I was approached by some Indian guys. Oh yes, there are a lot of Indians (as I discovered in the plane this morning) in Yangon. I wanted to buy some pictures made from pieces of gemstones carefully and beautifully arranged to depict sceneries, Makkah and Haram, Madinah, Quranic words, etc and had already selected a few. But I needed Kyat (pronounce as chart) to pay for them and followed a guy to change money. ‘Are you Turkish?’ I was asked (ha! Me, a Turk! That was the first time). They quoted me some rate (larger denominations of the greenback are quoted differently than smaller denominations) but when they saw my USD20 notes, they quoted me another (lower) rate. I was not happy with this as I had only changed my MYR into USD the day before and besides, those notes are legal for tender anyway. They explained that banks in Myanmar would not accept those bills. I couldn’t help it, I lost my temper and said, fine, I wouldn’t change my money after all. I took back my bills and stalked off. As if it was my fault that I got old USD notes!
I left the market empty-handed (after two more encounters with picky moneychangers) and walked back to the hostel. I changed money there instead – the hostel manager just took my bills without commenting. Ha!
An early night tonight as I was already sleepy by 8.30 pm local time (hey, that’s 10 pm in KL!). Oh, and another thing: there’s no network coverage in Myanmar for my mobile number.
Saturday, 10 October 2009. RGN-NYU
The Amazing Race
Another early morning start for me. Woke at 4 am local time and left at 5. Taxi was already waiting since 4.40 am but I told him to wait as I wanted to perform prayers first. We drove out into the dawn and yet there were already people in the street: women balancing pots on their heads, workers sweeping the streets and buses already full with passengers. There were no street lights in some parts/areas of Yangon and I was glad I didn’t venture out for dinner the night before. The roads and sidewalks were bad enough during the day, how does one avoid the potholes in the dark? As poor as most of them are, I didn’t see any homeless people sleeping on pavements and whatnot. During the walk yesterday, I was thinking if the Myanmar people have any idea of the oppression and suppression they are under and if they do, whether they plan to do something about it or not. It’s such a shame to see a big country rich in natural resources and gems fall into such a state.
I do not in any way condone the oppression of the military junta in Myanmar and I hope my visit will not indirectly contribute to the funding of the military junta activity. My trip was solely to experience a new country, a new culture, a new adventure and meet new people and get a taste of the local life.
Anyway, back to my story. It was a silent ride to the domestic airport. We reached the airport at 5.30 am and I quickly checked in. Nothing to browse so I went in to the boarding area immediately. There was a shop selling titbits and some postcards, a lady manning a newspapers stall, an airport restaurant on the first floor (which seemed empty), seats for passengers, restrooms and that was it. Oh and by the way, announcements were made by some guys walking around with placards announcing the destination and airline and calling out to passengers. Primitive, eh.
We boarded a shuttle the short distance to the plane. It was a small aircraft and before long, we were strapped in our seats and the plane began to taxi down the runway. It took only an hour plus to fly to Bagan/Nyaung Oo as opposed to hours on the old trains (more than 15 hours from Yangon to Mandalay and from Mandalay, you need to take another train or boat to Bagan. Too long and I didn’t have the luxury of time). And no, I didn’t plan to stay the whole duration in Yangon; if I do that, I’d be bored out of my skull.
Landed at Bagan Nyang Oo Airport at 0750. All foreign passengers have to pay USD10 Bagan Archaeological Zone Admission Fee (and your lodging would also want to look at this when you check in). Took a taxi (Kyat5000) to Golden Village Hotel whose manager showed me two single rooms (the one with TV cost USD10, the one without cost USD6), I doubted I’d watch much TV anyway so took the room without the TV. He also offered a taxi-cum-guide service for USD27 (the cabbie and guide from the airport quoted me USD35) so I agreed on the fee. Now, there are more than 2,000 pagodas and stupas around Bagan (previously, there were more than 4,000 but about half was destroyed in the earthquake in 1975).
We left for our Amazing Race around Bagan Archaeological Park and visited the following: Shwezigon Phaya, Kyan Zit Thar Cave (with cave paintings), Gi Byauk Kyi, Htilominlo Gupha-gyi, Upalithein, Khay Min Gha Phaya (which I climbed up for a view over the plains), Anadha Phaya, Shwe gu-Gyi, Thatbyinnyu Phaya (tallest structure), Dhammayangyi Pahto, Sulamani Pahto, Gaw Daw Palin Phaya and Mahabodhi Temple (where a lady applied some thanaka on my face) before stopping for lunch at The Moon Vegetarian Restaurant for lunch. It was a good thing I finally decided to wear my Crocs over my Converse shoes as you need to open your shoes and socks and walk barefooted into all the pagodas; in fact you need to walk barefoot from the entrance all the way leading into the pagoda! It’d be troublesome to slip in and out of my socks and Converse (plus I could always wash the dust and dirt off my Crocs). So if you’re going to Bagan, bear this in mind. It’s essential to pack the right footwear and apparel.
The driver sent me back to the hotel as it was too hot to go around in the afternoon. And it sure was blinking hot. At my last pagoda, the pavement was already too hot to walk on that I felt like I was walking on fire in some Thaipusam ritual.
We continued our Amazing Race at 3.30 pm. It was still hot but at least the sun had gone down a bit. We went to Iza Guwina Pagoda, Phaya Thonzu Phaya, Tayako Phay Temple (for a view of Bagan), Dhamma Yi Zi Ka Pagoda, Lawkananda Pagoda (in New Bagan, by the mighty Ayeryawaddy River), Marudha Phaya (where there was a gigantic Buddha) and a last temple (which name I didn’t catch) to catch the sunset.
Then it was back to the hotel. I ventured out for dinner and had dinner at a restaurant called Wonderful Tasty. A set meal cost me only about USD2.5 or Kyat2500. The service was painfully slow (I waited about 30 minutes) but the food was quite good.
I was repeatedly told that my one-night stay in Nyaung Oo/Bagan was too short and that I should ideally stay for 2-3 days but really, when I reflected on it, there are only so many temples I can see before they all start to look the same. And I wasn’t too pleased to take off my footwear before entering the temples but after a while, I got used to it. But doing that for two/three days, hmmm... The best time to go to Nyaung Oo/Bagan (and the country as a whole) is November-January as it’s just too hot in other months. The upside is though there are less tourists outside these months and the locals have more time to chat with the tourists. The downside is it’s just too blinking and blinding HOT.
Sunday, 11 October 2009. NYU-MDY
The Road To Mandalay
Set the alarm for 0530 local time for prayers. I’d earlier requested for an early breakfast at 0630 as my pre-arranged cab would come at 7 to take me to the airport. At about 0615, there was a blackout (this is normal throughout the country)... just like in Hanoi. Good thing I’d already dressed and packed and ready to go; besides it was already bright outside. Left after breakfast and reached the airport at 7.10 am. Thankfully, there were other passengers who checked in after me. Somehow there were a lot more foreigners at Nyaung Oo Airport than at Yangon domestic airport (not to mention, the former was so much more modern too).
It was a 25-minute flight to Mandalay Airport from Bagan (as opposed to eight hours by road) but the Mandalay Airport was about an hour from the city. Thankfully there’s a shared taxi (van, more like) service for Kyat4000 pax. I joined a couple from New York with their little son, a Chinese guy and a Chinese-looking couple (from Thailand I think).
I asked the driver to drop me at the Royal Guesthouse which I earmarked from various other lodgings in this list. They have two types of rooms: one with fan and shared bathroom at USD5, the other with fan and air-conditioning and own bathroom at USD8. After looking at both, I decided to take the USD8 room. Another upside to visiting Myanmar during off-peak season: you’ll always get a room!
I rode a pick-up to-and-fro Kuthodaw Phaya, the site of the world’s largest book, at the foot of the Mandalay Hill. 729 white stupas within the complex contain the complete text of Tripitaka, Theravada Buddhism’s most sacred text. Then I went to Zegyo Market and after confirming that it was indeed closed on Sundays, walked to another market instead at 77th street between 26th and 27th streets (this is how addresses in Mandalay are like). A late lunch was had at a small restaurant and I had Panthei Kausweh (Muslim Chinese noodles). The restaurant hygiene looked suspect but the noodles tasted very, very good. Cheap (at Kyat700 only!) and very tasty.
Summary: Mandalay is the second largest city in Myanmar. I found it like a big cowboy town. Dusty and dirty in some places with really horrible roads. Again, I was so happy I decided to wear Crocs as I could wash them every time I returned to my room. And the dust! It’s like there’s a desert nearby with all the sand and dust blowing into the city. I suppose the city inhabitants just accept the dust and sand as part of everyday life and live with it. Just like Yangon, walking in the city especially after mid-morning is a challenge and you feel like you’re walking in a sauna and at the end of the day, you feel like you’ve lost so much weight from all that sweating. Not exactly a work-out I was looking forward to. I don’t mind walking and have done a fair share of it if I may say so myself but really, walking in Asia is so much more challenging than in dry Europe. And had Kipling actually been to the city, I doubt he’d be impressed either.
I returned back to the guesthouse after my late lunch and showered the dust and dirt off. Stayed in for the rest of the day as was not keen to collect more dust and sand on myself and clothes.
Monday, 12 October 2009. MDY-HEH-RGN/RGN-KUL
Going Gaga Over Gems
Another early start as airport ‘taxi’ pick-up was at 0630. Another bumpy hour-long ride to the airport was endured.
The flight was scheduled to depart at 0850 but it departed at 0835 and stopped at Heho en route to Yangon. On hindsight, maybe I should’ve just flown to Heho from Bagan and on to Inle Lake near the town of Nyaungshwe. Oh well, maybe next time, if there’s a next time. All this domestic flying is not cheap (they all totalled to more what I paid for my return flight to Yangon).
But really, flying is so much easier to bear than say, a gruelling 8-hour bus ride from Mandalay to Bagan. And it’s such a vast country, Myanmar is, and the ground transportation either not reliable or slow. What also depressed me is the level of poverty evident everywhere. I reckon it’ll take decades just to eradicate or overcome if at all.
Anyway, we landed at Yangon International Airport (this was what was announced and what was stated on the building but in reality, it was the sad old domestic terminal) at 1015, some 35 minutes ahead of scheduled time. I was very impressed with the service of Yangon Airways and would recommend it. I was initially worried about getting back to Yangon in time for my 1250 flight (what if there was a delay?) but I needn’t have worried after all. Throughout my stay and time at the airports, I only saw one domestic flight being delayed (can’t remember what airline); the others all took off on time or way before scheduled time. Impressive!
There were already dozens of porters standing by ready to grab our bags. I hate this. I hate having someone assuming the liberty of carrying my bag and then expecting to be paid for it. In KL, this service is free (free porter service at ERL Transit and Express stations) but in Myanmar, just like Indonesia, you have to be wary of all these people profiting from unsuspecting tourists.
I quickly got hold of my bag and walked out of the building into the sun and walked the short distance to the international airport. There were a lot of people outside the airport (equally many to send those flying off) and I checked in immediately. Went to the immigration where again there were two officers at every counter. The duty-free area was dominated by gem kiosks and I spent considerable time going from one kiosk to another (I was reminded of my stolen jewelleries and felt a bit sad looking at them). I stopped browsing for a while and went to perform prayers and resumed browsing after that. So much so when I looked up, I saw ‘Gate Closed’ on the screen and all but ran to my gate. So many gemstones to see, so little time and USD left (and credit card not accepted, which was probably a blessing).
Reached KL at 4.55 pm and ran to get the 1722 train (good thing my bag came out early). So that was my trip to Myanmar. Will I be back? If yes, not outside the months of November-January, I should think. Anyway, I think it was a good trip. Sometimes we need a trip like this to remind ourselves of what we have, instead of just focussing on what we don’t already have.
Note: Malaysia Airlines flies to Yangon (not daily) and so does Myanmar Airways International. Everyone needs visa to enter the country (you need three passport-sized photos and pay some amount to get the visa processed). I’d recommend flying within the country especially if your stay is as short as mine. You get anything from Kyat1020 to Kyat1070 for every USD1, depending on the greenback bill denomination.
|