It didn't finish there as another three hour bus ride stood between us and Bagan and by the end of it I had gone from losing sensation in my buttocks to regaining colossal feelings of pain in them. I carried my battered buttocks with me and we arrived at our destination at 9.30pm. It was an epic test of endurance which we survived but we also found out on later inspection that Ashley and I had our bags rummaged through whilst we were on top of the bus. Not again! The kid had some nerve when he ransacked through our bags right under our noses. Luckily for me I didn't lose anything of real value, Ashley on the other hand lost her new IPOD.
The day started at 6am with everyone on the back of a pick-up bus that took us to the junction. From their we jumped on top of a mini-bus for some phenomenal views but the novelty wore out quickly as the combination of the morning chill as well as the wind factor made the ride chillingly cold. We all huddled up together to conserve warmth except for Steve who was at the front by himself braving the cold in nothing more than his shorts, shirt and green hat. We started off with a comfortable eight people on top of the bus but after the end of the nine hour journey we ended up with 22 people. The locals laughed at us as if we were the first foreigners they've seen on top of a bus but one was nice enough to return Paul's left shoe when it got launched off the back after we hit a pot hole. Packed liked sardines we all baked in the sun and were only relieved by the flash down pour of rain twenty minutes before arriving. We were absolutely soaked!