4,600 temples and a hot air balloon
Trip Start
Oct 11, 2009
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Trip End
Mar 18, 2010
Our flight to Bagan involved stopovers in Heho and Mandalay, so we essentially did our entire trip backwards before we'd even begun. As a result, we arrived in Bagan just as the sun was setting, and watched people descend from the Shwesandaw Pagoda as we made our way to our hotel in Old Bagan. Daniel had a crazy idea that it would be a good to reset our sleep schedule so that we started getting up just before dawn and going to sleep by 9pm or so. I was not so keen on this idea, but reluctantly agreed and rolled out of bed excitedly at 5:30am the next morning to head out to the temples on rented bicycles. It was surprisingly hot and humid, even at dawn, and as the sun rose in the sky, the light on the temples was spectacular. The first temple we went inside was tended by a family and we had an entourage of little kids showing us around – by the time we came out, the older, more tourist-wise kids had turned up and tried to convince us to buy their lacquerware bracelets.
The universal sales technique in Bagan is a three step process. The first step consisted of asking, "Where from?" then, upon learning that we were from England, the second step involved regaling us with their knowledge of Premier League football, and finally, the third step entailed a very polite but persistent request to look at their goods, often with an explanation of “Poor tourist season – no money.” Announcing we were from Wales drew blank looks, while Scotland is universally recognised as being near England. The men of Bagan can be divided into three groups – ox driving farmers, donkey cart renting uncles and everyone else is an artist, although we never saw anyone paint a single image, and every painting looks exactly the same.
Hawkers aside, Bagan was absolutely magical. We cycled around on dirt paths, accompanied by farmers and their ox-carts, across the 4 square mile plain, exploring whichever of the more than 4,000 temples caught our fancy. Many had stairs leading up to a magnificent rooftop view of the landscape of sesame fields dotted with red brick temples. Temple interiors were mostly four-sided, with a main Buddha (often in painted teak, sometimes in sandstone) and lesser ones at the other cardinal points. Many have the remnants of once spectacular 1,000 year old murals, but most temples have been reconstructed after the 1975 earthquake. We escaped the scorching mid-day sun for a few hours of siesta by the pool, and then set out again in the late afternoon, thinking ahead to what pagoda we would climb to watch the sunset.
On our last morning in Bagan, we woke up extra-early (by this time, Melora had been convinced of the wisdom of the early morning rhythm) for a sunrise ride in a hot air balloon over the Bagan plain. It was a treat to see the ground that we had covered by bicycle from the air and peaceful to be floating silently above the plain, watching the farmers ploughing as the sun made its way over the horizon. We also saw just how many temples there had been, as the landscape was pocked with ruins - areas where no crops were planted and small amounts of exposed brick were visible from above. It seemed fitting to land and be handed a glass of Bisol prosecco to toast our descent.
The universal sales technique in Bagan is a three step process. The first step consisted of asking, "Where from?" then, upon learning that we were from England, the second step involved regaling us with their knowledge of Premier League football, and finally, the third step entailed a very polite but persistent request to look at their goods, often with an explanation of “Poor tourist season – no money.” Announcing we were from Wales drew blank looks, while Scotland is universally recognised as being near England. The men of Bagan can be divided into three groups – ox driving farmers, donkey cart renting uncles and everyone else is an artist, although we never saw anyone paint a single image, and every painting looks exactly the same.
Hawkers aside, Bagan was absolutely magical. We cycled around on dirt paths, accompanied by farmers and their ox-carts, across the 4 square mile plain, exploring whichever of the more than 4,000 temples caught our fancy. Many had stairs leading up to a magnificent rooftop view of the landscape of sesame fields dotted with red brick temples. Temple interiors were mostly four-sided, with a main Buddha (often in painted teak, sometimes in sandstone) and lesser ones at the other cardinal points. Many have the remnants of once spectacular 1,000 year old murals, but most temples have been reconstructed after the 1975 earthquake. We escaped the scorching mid-day sun for a few hours of siesta by the pool, and then set out again in the late afternoon, thinking ahead to what pagoda we would climb to watch the sunset.
On our last morning in Bagan, we woke up extra-early (by this time, Melora had been convinced of the wisdom of the early morning rhythm) for a sunrise ride in a hot air balloon over the Bagan plain. It was a treat to see the ground that we had covered by bicycle from the air and peaceful to be floating silently above the plain, watching the farmers ploughing as the sun made its way over the horizon. We also saw just how many temples there had been, as the landscape was pocked with ruins - areas where no crops were planted and small amounts of exposed brick were visible from above. It seemed fitting to land and be handed a glass of Bisol prosecco to toast our descent.


