Bagan, Monday, February 12
At 5:00 in the morning I left for the airport. The hotel's regular driver hadn't arrived yet so the doorman walked out into the dark street to look for a taxi. He had to go down to the first major intersection, but finally he found one. As I hopped in he said, "I have already paid him." The Yoma advertises they supply transportation to and from the airport and they were as good as their word.

Along the way the most interesting sight was out near Shwedagon Paya where I saw a line of barefoot monks heading out to beg for their morning meal. There must have been 50 or more of them in a straight line, young and old alike. They walked with grace and patience, each carrying his large, black begging bowl.

At the airport it was pure chaos. There are three domestic carriers in Myanmar and each had a flight leaving within minutes of each other. In addition, there was a multi-step check-in process that wasn't very clearly marked. In the end I made it onto a little 48-seat prop plane for my flight to Bagan. Soon after we took off the sun came up filling the cabin with soft, pale light.

In Bagan I paid the $10 Archaeological Zone fee and then got a taxi to my hotel, the Thande. While I was checking in the desk clerk asked to see the Archaeological Zone ticket, making sure I had one. Finally, I dropped my bag in my room and walked outside the hotel gate where I rented a horse cart for the day for $10. I had picked the Thande mainly because it was on the edge of the Archaeological Zone, close to all the major sites.

I asked my driver, Song Song, to show me to the best known payas. I figured I would get an overview today and then rent a bike to see some of the lesser known ones. Song Song hitched up his horse and we set off.

I immediately learned two things about horse transportation: first, it's a pretty rough ride. The cart had hard wheels and I could feel every bump in the road. Also, the cart rocked with every step the horse took. Second, I never realized how much gas a horse passes. Sitting directly behind one, you can't miss it. Now, I can see why cars have largely replaced horses.

Song Song was an excellent guide and over the next few hours I saw 6 of the best known payas. Bagan is reputed to have 2,000 of these temples built between 9^th and 13^th centuries. They range in size from a few big enough to cover a football field to others no larger than a small house. Inside they all have at least one statue of Buddha and most had many more.

The stone exteriors are often ornately carved and some have painted frescos inside too. You can climb to the top of a few and from there you can see payas in every direction: more than you could count. It's a truly marvelous sight. Bagan is one of the least known of the archeological wonders of Asia and it is certainly worth a trip to Myanmar to see it.

We spent most of our time off the road following small, sandy tracks from paya to paya. Before you enter you remove your shoes: you must go barefoot in all of the payas. Inside the entrance of the more popular ones there was always a collection of vendors selling tourist trinkets: lacquer ware, brass bells, tee shirts and post cards.

The vendors were persistent, but friendly. After they realized I wasn't going to buy, they would often sit and talk with me. They always wanted to know where I was from. Sometimes they would tell me about the day's business or facts about the paya. I found that a little patience went a long way with the vendors - they are, after all, only trying to make a living.

After three hours of riding in the rocking cart and walking barefoot over rough stones, Song Song suggested we have lunch. "Do you want Myanmar or Chinese food?" he asked and then quickly added, "I know a very clean Myanmar place." I hadn't tried Myanmar food yet, so I figured this would be a good opportunity.

We headed back to the east edge of the Archaeological Zone, near the Tharaba Gateway, to a little thatched-roof place called Golden Myanmar. After Song Song tied up the horse, we sat down at a plastic table in the open-sided restaurant. Along with our drinks, the waiter brought about 10 small dishes. As he sat each down he told us what was in it: eggplant, mutton, beef, some kind of little fish, chicken and loads of vegetables, most of which I have never seen or heard of before. There were also two plates of rice and two bowls of soup.

All the dishes except the soup were cold, or more correctly, room temperature. All the dishes I tried tasted strange to me and I didn't particularly care for any of them. The fact that they weren't hot made then seem greasy. In addition, many were flavored with some kind of strong fish paste.

The soup was the best of the lot, but oddly I thought it tasted something like horses smell - or maybe I had just spent too much time behind one. Later, I prayed to the travel gods that I did not get food poisoning - I'm very wary of food that isn't served hot. Luckily, nothing bad happened.

Back at the hotel I asked other travelers what their experiences had been with Myanmar food. It was the same: many little dishes of cold food. I decided that this meal fulfilled my obligation to try Myanmar food and from them on I stuck to my favorites: Chinese and Thai.

In the afternoon, after the horse had rested, we set out again to visit a few more payas. First, we stopped at one in Myinkaba, a little village just south of the Archeological Zone. There I saw a huge statue of Buddha set in a tiny room. It was designed to show how the builder had felt when he was held in captivity.

Myinkaba is also known for its lacquer ware shops. Song Song stopped at one (Maling Aling Myin) and I was given a tour. I was shown how the lacquer was hand-applied to a bamboo frame and then slowly dried in a cellar. Various intricate patterns were then incised on the surface and more colored lacquer was applied. The finished cups and trays were both magnificent and cheap, so I bought a few.

We finally ended up at the Shwesandaw Paya. It's one of the few tall payas that you can climb and a favorite place to watch the sun set over the Ayeyarwady river. Consequently, there were lots of tour buses, taxis, horse carts and bicycles there. It's a steep climb to the top and, by sunset, it was crowded with tourists. I had gotten there early and staked out a good spot next to a couple of Canadians who where making a multi-month visit to Asia.

After sunset I had Song Song drive me to the River View restaurant in New Bagan for dinner. He wanted the outrageous sum of 2000 Kyat for the extra ride there and back. Somehow I let him talk me into it. That was half again what I paid for the whole day. The restaurant was only about a 25-minute ride from the hotel.

The food at the River View was pretty good (Chinese) and there was a little dance and musical show. It was all outdoors with a great view of the Ayeyarwady river. After dinner, as I worked on my journal by candlelight, I became dinner for the local mosquitoes.

It was a pleasant ride back to the hotel with the clip-clop of the horse and Song Song humming a little tune. I decided to have another beer at the hotel's bar - a pleasant end to a great day.

Mt. Popa, Tuesday, February 13
With Song Song's help, I arranged for a car to take me to Mt. Popa in the morning. The half-day trip cost $25. Song Song told me that the driver was his brother but I suspect he was using that term with the widest possible meaning. At one point the day before he had told me he would treat me like his brother. He was a real hustler.

Anyway, a lanky, young man with shoulder-length, black hair picked me up at 8:00 - he didn't look at all related to Song Song. As we headed southwest out of Bagan, past payas and sandy fields, I was disappointed to find out that he didn't speak much English. Later as we rolled passed palm trees and more sandy fields, I realized it would be a perfect time to listen to a little country music. I got out my tape and asked the driver (I never did learn his name) if the tape player worked.

At first we listened quietly and then we each started turning it up a little until it was playing nice and loud. The windows were open, a warm breeze blew in, and we were sailing across the Burmese countryside. School kids with shoulder bags and women with loads balanced on their heads walked along the edge of the road. Chickens ands dogs scattered in our wake. Ah, perfect.

I saw a couple of small mills along the road - they were powered by buffalo turning a wheel around and around. I asked the driver to pull over. When we got out he left the door open and the tape playing - I believe Johnny Paycheck was singing, "Apartment Number Nine." The mill was grinding palm seed into oil - which was also for sale at a little stand.

More interesting was the palm sugar candy. As we stood watching, one of the locals scampered up a palm tree with a small clay pot hanging from his belt. He climbed up barefoot and without the aid of a ladder. I was amazed at the ease with which he made his assent.

At the top there was a small tap in the tree with a can hanging on it to collect the sap. He poured the contents into his pot and scampered down again. Back off the road a short ways was a kitchen where they were boiling the sap, to make it into a thick syrup, much the way maple syrup is made in New England. By now several other taxis had stopped and we were all treated to some palm candy while Conway Twitty sang to us from the car.

It's only about an hour drive to Mt. Popa and you see it long before you get to it. It's the core of an extinct volcano and it rises abruptly from the surrounding hills. There was a little settlement at the foot with various souvenir and food shops. There were also several monastery and religious buildings. It was a lively and colorful place.

I was actually a little bit apprehensive about climbing Mt. Popa. Not because it was high, but because it must be done barefoot. It's the sacred home of what is known as Nats - spirits. I have a problem with my left foot and have a special support in that shoe. Yesterday, I had done fine walking and climbing the payas barefoot, but today I would be several hours with no shoes. I didn't know what to expect.

There were two giant elephants statues at the entrance to Mt. Popa: that's where I left my shoes. There were also vendors selling food for the monkeys that live at the base of the mountain and others selling various religious offerings, such as flowers and incense. The stairs were covered so at least I was out of the sun: it has starting to get hot. I bought some food for the monkeys and started slowly up.

There were more Burmese than foreigners making the climb and there was a festive atmosphere - there was a lot of laughing and talking as we climbed together. At first the stairs were gradual, but they quickly became quite steep. There should be no problem for even the poorest climbers as there are plenty of places to sit along the way. You can also buy a can of pop or just sit and feed the monkeys, as I did.

After about 45 minutes I reached the top where there was a spectacular view of the surrounding country. The buildings, on the other hand, were a bit of a let down. They were crudely built and in poor repair.

I sat at the top for a while watching people make offerings to the Nats. After about a half-hour, I headed back down. The only problem I had with my feet was my tendency to scrape the back of my heel on the steps on the way down. I had to put on a few Band-Aids later, but no lasting damage was done.

After I retrieved my shoes, I walked around the village and took some more pictures. Then I found my driver and we headed back to Bagan with Buck Owens blaring and a hot wind blowing. There were more bikes and ox carts on the narrow road than cars.

Back at the hotel I had a great Chinese lunch at the outdoor dining room - it's on a bluff overlooking the Ayeyarwady river, and reason enough to stay at the Thande. After lunch I rented a bike for the rest of the day for 300 Kyat. Among the many payas I stopped at I was the only visitor at several - there weren't even vendors. Finally, I rode down a sandy track to the Mingalazdi Paya, another popular sunset destination. There I met the first Americans on the trip - a young couple who had just arrived from Calcutta. We swapped travel tales while watching the sun set and the sky darken.

That evening I sat at the hotel's outdoor restaurant again and drank several beers while I captured the days events in my journal.

Salay, Wednesday, February 14
I wanted to take another short trip out of Bagan today but had made no arrangements. After breakfast I walked outside the hotel gate and ran into Song Song again. By now he thought he was running my affairs. He always seemed to get his fingers into my travel plans.

He asked, "Where do you want to go today?" and then introduced me to a taxi driver, Bosh Shay. As we bargain, Song Song adds his own opinion, so it is two against one. In the end I could only get the driver down $2 to $23 for a morning trip to Salay. It's a small town about 45 minutes south of Bagan. I wanted to see a little more of the countryside and I had heard that Salay didn't get many visitors.

On the road we saw more school kids walking along. They were all wearing green longyi, which Bosh Shay told me was the standard school uniform. The road was so narrow that whenever we met an oncoming car both of us had to slow down and pull one wheel off the road. We passed through several little villages: the houses had wooden frames and the walls were covered with what looked like woven palm leaves.

In Salay we stopped at an old teak monastery where one of the attendants gave me a little tour of the building and showed me a case of old Burmese books written in gold on palm leaves. Then I walked across the road to see a couple of payas. A little boy who was carrying a bottle of some white liquid (milk?) followed along, but wouldn't talk.

Farther down a sandy lane there were several old rundown payas and a little village where the woven-sided buildings sat on stilts. Finally, the driver caught up with me and we left. He wanted to head directly back, but I asked to visit the center of the village. He said there wasn't much to see, but he was wrong.

The streets were covered with the canopy of high trees and there was a lively little market where everyone stopped to stare at me. There were the usual fruit and vegetable vendors. In one stall there was a handsome old man operating a treadle sewing machine. He broke into a huge smile when I asked if I could take his picture. Then we headed back to Bagan.

On the way we stopped in New Bagan to visit another lacquer ware shop, Uba Nyein Handicrafts, where I bought some lacquer cups - 6 for $15. They were delicately engraved in three colors and very lovely. When I got home I wished I had bought more: everybody who saw them wanted one.

Back at the hotel I took the afternoon off. It was starting to get real hot and I had been going pretty steady. As I was sitting around, I realized I hadn't reconfirmed my flight to Mandalay as I was told to do. I tried to call the air office but the phone was dead. I went to the hotel desk, but they don't have any luck either. As time passed I realized that the air office had closed. The desk clerk, who has been making the calls for me, suggested I take the hotel car and visit the air office manager's home just to make sure.

We drove slowly back to New Bagan and then down several neat side streets to a two-story house. As we walked to the door we could hear loud music playing. "Wait here," the driver said. He then opened the door and yells something. A young man came and invited us in. We took our shoes off and stepped inside. There were a couple of teenagers sitting on the floor singing to a TV Karaoke - that's where the music was coming from. The furnishings were all quite new and wouldn't have looked out of place in any western home. They invited us to sit down but before we could, a middle-aged woman appeared - the air office manager. She checked her list and then showed me my name was on it.

Before sunset I rented a bike again and rode over to the Bupaya which was a paya located on a bluff overlooking the Ayeyarwady river. There were a few dusty cafes and stands selling food and souvenirs nearby. I stopped for a drink at one café and watched some local kids sing Karaoke. As sunset neared, tour buses appeared and I had to fight for a good vantage point. The hit of the sunset was the lady with the digital camera. She would take a picture and then show it on the little digital display on the back. The Burmese loved this and there was always a small crowd around her.

Back at the hotel, I decided I needed a change. I had seen a little Myanmar restaurant about 1/2 mile back on the main road and I decided to walk over and see what was going on. When I got there I noticed they had a tape player. "Does that work?" I asked the owner. When he nods yes, I got out my tape. A beer arrived about the same time that Vince Gill started singing, "Kindly Keep It Country." The owner came back and said, "Country music." It was a statement and not a question. Apparently I wasn't the first to stop here.

I sat and drank my beer. I talked to a local taxi driver who stopped in to pick up some food and I wrote in my journal. There were several Myanmar diners too: three young men who avoided eye contact and a young couple who only looked at each other. I talked to the owner's young son, but his English wasn't very good.

It was pitch black outside the open-sided café. More horse carts and bikes drove past than cars. A couple of skinny dogs wandered around looking for scraps. Finally, I retrieved my tape and walked back the dark road to the hotel. In the distance I could see that some of the payas were lit with spotlights. The night was cool and starry. I was very happy but also sad: tomorrow I would be leaving. I was off to Mandalay.

Ann Arbor, Michigan
April 2001

Part One - Yangon and Bago
Next: Part Three - Mandalay, 3 Ancient Cities and Mingun
Part Four - Yangon and Bangkok
Part Five - The details

Read more of my travelogues

Send your comments to: