Temples of Bagan
Trip Start
Sep 11, 2010
1
72
107
Trip End
Ongoing
Bagan, Myanmar
Sunday, March 20, 2011
I awoke at about 9.30 feeling surprisingly fresh and after having breakfast I was ready to take on Bagan. Bagan is one of the foremost tourist attractions in Myanmar. It consists of a plane containing some 3000 temples about 1/3rd of which were damaged or destroyed in the great quake of 75. For my first day I decided to set off on foot exploring Nyuang Oo, the town where I was staying, and some of the temples within reach. As I was browsing around some of the smaller temples I was making my way north where one major pagoda, Sapada Paya, was located. The pagoda, as many are, was surrounded by smaller temples and shrines and also had its fair share of vendors trying to flog various souvenir items. I grabbed a most delicious and unexpected mocha in the town. As I sat there I was already beginning to feel that you could come here and leave with the impression that the country is made of gold, as I’m sure many of the package and resort tourists do. Knowing this is far removed from the reality I pulled out my map and wondered how I could venture off the beaten track to see something a bit more real. I wandered past the tourist attractions down to he banks of the Ayeyarawady River. Apart from a few locals washing in the river it was all but deserted. I sat for a few minutes on the steps in what felt like the most peaceful place in the world. I headed along the banks and took a route back towards what looked like a small village. As I reached the top of another set of steps I found myself unknowingly entering the grounds of a monastery. It was a bit late to turn back so I carried on boldly. The novice monks, who must have all be in or around 12 all smiled and waved and as I rounded the main building one kid shouted a string of questions at me in perfect English.
Passing out of the monastery I quickly found myself within a village which seemed to be built entirely from bamboo, straw and palms. I felt a little out of place but my tension was eased by the warm greetings I was given by the locals. After hearing it a number of times I finally had the courage to supplement my smile with 'Mingalaba', the Burmese greeting. I was fascinated by this simple village life, something just like what you would see from the old Vietnam War movies. I was really tempted to whip out my camera to capture all these sites but thought it would be beyond rude to go poking my lens into these people’s lives. I tried to linger and hoped some friendly local would go beyond a greeting and invite me into their home, but it was not to be. Eventually I had to concede that I was lost and when I asked a lady if she could point me towards the main road she sent all 3 of her kids to escort me there. I continued out the country poking around whatever temples I found on my way. I arrived on one temple which had an upstairs terrace where the temple keeper was silently sitting and reading his book. After about 4 hours of walking I was happy sit there and chat with the guy for an hour while taking in a famous Bagan sunset. He was glad of the company and I was happy to get an insight into the life of a local. He though I was crazy to walk so far (about 3km) from where I was staying and offered to take me back to his village where he could take me on his families bike back. Not wanting to be such an inconvenience I declined and walked back on my own. For dinner I used the Lonely Planet’s top recommended restaurant; an Indian place called Aroma. I have spent 7 weeks travelling the length of India and I can say with conviction that this was the best Indian meal I ever had. It was the kind of good that leaves you with a wide smile on your face and a feeling of contentment that money just can’t buy. It was a shame I had nobody there to listen to me rant about how good it was. After dinner I headed back towards the hotel and on the way was beckoned over by 3 young locals who where on the whiskey. I spent half an hour chatting with them before continuing on to the hotel where I had a beer in the roof garden, hoping to find some other weary travelers to chat about the day’s events but it was totally dead.
The following morning I decided that I should go further afield and explore the planes of Bagan. Going on foot was not an option and I wasn’t really feeling romantic enough to take a horse drawn cart on my own. Instead I rented a bike and pedaled off towards Old Began spending a couple of hours exploring the temples of the northern planes along the way. Some of there were very similar but many others each had something unique to offer which maintained the interest and kept the motivation to continue pedaling on through the midday heat. At the more touristic temples there were many vendors who would follow you around paying you compliments and giving you information about the particular temple in an effort to get you to buy something. I stopped for lunch near Old Bagan and had dinner in a place that my guidebook called 'keep it real, genuine Myanmar cuisine’. The meal consisted of a buffet of about 16 dishes presented to your table. I hardly knew where to start but once I got stuck in I realized it was a great opportunity to try a whole range of national dishes. Onward to Old Bagan where I learned of the forced relocation of the locals to New Bagan and the rebuilding of the palace of old using forced labor of these same locals. I refused to pay the government $5 to see this attraction and support their use of forced labor. Without much to see in Old Bagan I paused under a tree to consult my guidebook and map. Within a few moments a guy and a kid pulled up in his bike to chat. He was not just looking to flog something to me like most vendors but he was eager to trade for any little piece of the western world I had to offer. Unfortunately for him I had nothing I was willing to part with. Next I headed south to check out a few more temples and what looked like a small secluded village but turned out to be something geared a bit too much towards tourists for my liking. As evening fell I pedaled my high-Nelly bike off road to take on the dirt tracks of the central planes. Cycling through the deep sand was tough but ample rewards were provided by a few particularly impressive temples and pagodas. As sunset approach I was determined to find a particular temple which my guidebook claimed was the premier sunset viewpoint. My map of the dirt tracks was plain wrong and before long I found myself having to navigate only with the sun. I found the temple but lost the track to it so just ended up heading straight for it. As I was struggling through ploughed fields I was wondering if it was really worth the hassle to get there. After carrying the bike through thorned ditches, standing on an inch long nail like thorn and acquiring two flat tires I was like a dog by the time I arrived. I did my best to enjoy the nice sunset before battling the flat tired bike along dirt tracks to the road and about 5km back to the village. Back in the village I sat in a tea shop for a nice strong chai to brush off the stressful end to the day. On my way out I supplemented my thorned foot by walking into the wooden plank that spanned the bottom of the doorway. I limped back to the hotel, for fear I might do myself some more serious damage on the way. I went for dinner in a nearby restaurant which I saw advertise Wi-Fi earlier in the day. I almost couldn’t believe it worked, however slowly, and after the waitress did some fiddling with my browser settings was able to allow me open access avoiding all government censorship and monitoring. Back in the hotel roof garden there was another solo traveler getting stuck into a bottle of whiskey. I figured he was probably in a similar state of mind as I was the previous night so I joined him. Shayl; a British bloke who was well travelled in Myanmar and beyond, we stayed up until 1 exchanging travel stories.
After about 10 hours of biking and with the various injuries to my foot I though it best to take a rest the following day. A lay in was not to be as I was woken at 7 with the loud music across the road for the celebration for a novice monk taking his robes. I had a long breakfast which was spent watching the festivities across the road and chatting with Shayl. The rest of the day was spent chilling around the village, sorting a boat trip to Mandalay and catching up on my blog. In the evening I met with Shaly again and we rolled 4 more into the group for dinner. An Irish lad, fresh from the homeland, was great to chat with about the state of the nation since I left. There was also a french couple and an Isralie girl who had some very strange opinions of the world. We went for beers and exchanged life and travel stories. It was nice to hook up with some backpackers and chat in flowing English after almost a week.
Comments
One thing that surprises me is that you chat to so many locals do they have a bit of English?