BAGAN - A temple lovers playgound!!!!
Trip Start
Oct 2006
1
22
23
Trip End
Ongoing
Bagan, Myanmar
Tuesday, December 26, 2006
I rented an oversized bicycle with a basket and rode it around the 42 square kilometer temple complex of Bagan, which is peppered with a few thousand temples that are about a thousand years old. Some of them are small, some of them are several stories tall. Some of them have shrines and mazes inside and steps leading up to large balconies from which you can view the vast, flat landscape on the shores of the Irrawaddy River.
All of the temples have a small contingent of souvenir vendors. Normally, this would have been really annoying, but the Burmese are so friendly and good natured about their bargaining, it's hardly a bother to say "no." Since it was Christmas, and I was feeling particularly generous, I bought lots of cool laquerware and sand paintings at slightly higher prices than I should have paid. At least the money isn't going into the hands of the junta.
The area occupied by the temples is perfect for independent exploration on foot or on bike, and is not too dissimilar to Angkor Wat in Cambodia in terms of size and scope. The temples of Bagan dot the landscape of scrubby fields, and are all connected by dirt paths that would be perfect for a mountain bike. The bike that I had rented wasn't really a mountain bike, it was more like a bike that was left behind by the British in 1946.
Every afternoon, as the sun approaches the horizon, there is a mad rush to find a temple roof from which to watch the sun set. On this day, I was caught in the rush. I wanted to find a temple where I would be by myself. So, about an hour before sunset, I picked out an obscure temple on my map, and set off on my rickety bike.
I must have taken a wrong turn somewhere. The sun was just a couple fist-lengths from the horizon, and I seemed to be nowhere near my private temple. Exasperated, I changed plans, and made off for a different temple about a quarter mile away. I would have to bike fast if I was going to make it there before the sun went down. There would be other people there, but at least I would be able to see the sun go down behind the glory of Bagan.
I rode as furious as I could, zigzagging my way through crop fields, down and up ravines, standing up off my bike saddle and POWERING my way through sand dunes. I didn't look back to see where the sun was, I just stayed focused on that temple.
I was almost there, just one more scrub field to bust through. Ouch! This field is filled with thorns! The Japanese people already up on the roof of the temple were amused at my cyclo-bushwhack.
I arrived on the roof of the temple with bloody arms and feet, but at least I made it in time to see the sunset on Christmas. As it turned out, there was a guy from Minnesota there that had an even nasalier voice than me, so I actually felt like I was right at home.
Apparently, riding through thorny fields was as bad for my bike tires as it was for my arms. The town of Nyang U, where I was staying, was about 10 km away. It was dark, and as I threw my weight on my bike, I realized that I had two flat tires.
As I coasted down the last hill toward Nyang U on rims, I decided that this was one of the best Christmases I have ever had.
