The road to Mandalay

I was grateful for a daytime bus to Mandalay, even if it was local. There isn’t too much difference between the two. In fact, the local buses are, I think, preferable because you don’t have the air conditioning set at 4°C, and you don’t have Burmese movies played so loud that the sound is distorted. The seats did seem a little smaller than the already small ones on the big buses, and mine was stuck at a 90° angle which wasn’t ideal.

I think after a pretty loaded four days I was happy to get on a bus. And the dust was starting to get to me, with a scratchy throat and a blocked head that I was trying my best to ignore.

The bus ride entailed the usual things, several meal stops, several other stops for no apparent reason, and a slightly early arrival to Mandalay. One of the big differences between the streets of Rangoon and Mandalay is that in Rangoon it is mainly cars, whereas in Mandalay, mainly motorbikes (and I’m told it was mainly bicycles up until a few years ago). So my taxi turned out to be a motorbike! I told my driver (who turned out to be my saviour) that I wasn’t sure how he would carry my backpack. Don’t worry he said, I am a professional transporter. And he was. He somehow squeezed it between his legs (and my backpack is not small, I still haven’t learned the art of packing light, even for a short trip) and we were off on his 110cc motorbike, zipping through the streets of Mandalay with a million other bikes.

My saviour, I think his name is Tun Aung, drove me to several hotels, which were all full, before I found a room at a Chinese hotel.

See, since Burma opened its border with China about 20 years ago, there has been an increasing number of Chinese tourists, particularly to Mandalay. This is evident with Chinese hotels, shopping malls and a lot of other businesses in town.

The downside of the Bonanza hotel is that there were no other western tourists so this would be the only place I didn’t find anyone to chat to. The staff had very limited English as well so Tun Aung served as my translator.

Anyway, by the time I got to the hotel I was feeling pretty crappy after another day inhaling dust through the open windows of the bus. Tun Aung offered to take me on a tour around the main Mandalay sights, which are outside of Mandalay, so I suggested we do that Thursday.

(Still no clouds today…)

Well it didn’t really feel like Australia Day where I was today. I was expecting Mandalay to be beautiful, but it isn’t. I spent most of the day wandering around the town, stopping for tea at the teashops, squeezing through the local markets, dodging motorcycles, and trying not to breathe in dust.

I know I’ve mentioned it a few times but I’ve never been anywhere so dusty. Anything that has been still for more than ten minutes is caked in the stuff. The leaves on the trees all have a thick layer of dust and general visibility is quite poor because of it. In the evenings it is like something out of a sci-fi film when you see it through the headlights of the buses and motorbikes.

I managed to find some Strepsils for my throat which by now was raging, but had no luck finding a local remedy for throat infection although I did have some antihistamines for the hayfever.

With no real bars to speak of in Mandalay, I headed to the Nylon Ice Cream Bar for a beer after dinner. I got chatting there to a local artist, Min Tun, who was really friendly. When I told him I wasn’t in the market to buy his work, although it was very nice, he gave me the picture he had been working on while we chatted. I felt bad but I’m getting the hang of the Burmese way, despite getting hassled by beggars and drivers and the usual, most of the people are genuine and generous and are just happy to spend time talking to you.

(My cloudless streak has officially ended with some light wispy clouds in the morning becoming more substantial in the afternoon.)

Magical Bagan

Alas, I did not factor in arriving two hours early. So at 3am (after a few meal stops – a dinner stop at 8pm and an inexplicable tea stop at 2am) we arrive in Bagan. It was freezing. The locals on the bus all nodded an smiled and said, yes, Bagan, we very early, when I looked at them bleary eyed and dumbfounded.

My German friend on the bus, and I were offered a ride to a hotel by a local. Sounded like a great idea since it was freezing cold, pitch black, 3am and we had no idea where to go. So he bundles us off into his, wait for it… horse and cart. Yes, really. I don’t think I was completely awake – everything was a bit surreal at this point.

The first hotel was full, the second was okay but we thought we’d look at another. We tried several and they were all full so by 4am I pleaded that we just take the available room, at least for now.

Bagan is a truly magical and mystical place. It is a land of over 4,000 temples and stupas build by the kings of Bagan. The earliest temples date back to the eleventh century with Bagan’s golden era lasting roughly 200 years until the Mongolian warlord, Kublai Khan, came and took over the joint. The area of Bagan is roughly 42km square and there are four ways to get around, hire a driver (in a car), hire a horse and cart, hire a trishaw, or hire a bike. I chose a bike.

Despite my lack of sleep I managed to fit in a full day of cycling and sightseeing. Bagan is the sort of place that makes to want to fit in just one more temple. And, of course, you need to be at Shwesandaw Paya at sunset for the amazing view and light.

At one temple, Bupa, which is a golden stupa by the Irrawaddy river, I was approached, or rather ordered, by a group of locals to pose in photographs with several of them. Then as I sat for a little while to take some pictures, a small boy, I would say about three years old, came over to see what the story is with my camera. He then became creative director. I think he thought I was a bit stupid because I couldn’t respond to his questions. He has yet to learn that people with blonde hair generally don’t speak Burmese. He started showing me his whistle toys and giving me a turn. In the end, his family suggested he give me one as a gift – very sweet.

Afterwards I wandered down to the riverside to get some lunch. It was all locals down there doing local things and frying all sorts of food. Mainly different vegetables in some kind of batter. I tried a few which were quite interesting. But again, I think I was of more interest because at my table I was joined by ten kids and a few adults. Everyone mainly stared at me and watched me eat but one of the older kids who spoke some English chatted to me for a while.

In the afternoon I cycled around visiting more temples, got a flat tyre, got it fixed, was followed by several locals. One of them, Jojo, decided he should be my boyfriend and he could call me and email me. It took a while but I finally convinced him that age difference alone was a problem (he was 20) let alone the logistics of carrying out such a “relationship”. He finally left me to it but asked me to consider it overnight. (Yes I’m laughing as I write this.)

I finally made it to Shwesandaw Paya for the stunning sunset before cycling my sore and weary bones back to Nyuang U for a shower and dinner with my German friend.

My fourth full day in Burma and I still haven’t seen a cloud since I arrived…

Figuring if I gave it a good crack today, I could see a fairly good whack of Bagan and be on my way to Mandalay tomorrow. Another eight hours cycling around on either bumpy, dusty or sandy roads but the rewards were there.

While there are a number of foreigners around, I was overwhelmed by how many of the locals visit these temples and worship. They are not merely architectural relics. Particularly the ones further afield. At one temple, as I walked up the stairs, a group of locals walked around from the side and all just stopped and stared as I approached. I heard a few gasps and murmurs, figuring not many foreigners make it to this one.

The bike didn’t have the best day today. The steering column came loose at some point so I had to walk the bike a few kilometres to Myinkaba village where I found a repair guy. And, as luck would have it, Jojo happened to be standing right next to it with a big grin on his face. He helped me get the bike sorted then took me through the village which is where he lives. This village is famed for the lacquerware, which is exquisite. We visited some of the people working and they showed me the process – fantastic to see. I bought a lovely bowl then we headed off for more temples. I had to break it to Jojo that I had considered his offer and it just wasn’t going to work. He wasn’t so happy so we parted ways.

I visited a bunch of temples in the afternoon, mainly the far flung ones which involved riding through soft sand tracks. Let me tell you, that is very difficult. Afterwards I headed back to Nyaung U to see the market which was pretty much shutting down but it did give me a chance to get another flat tyre on the bike and walk it home for the exercise.

Rangoon

Day one and I enjoyed “the world’s best breakfast as seen on Discovery Channel” at my hotel before I step out into the chaotic streets.

I wandered around town doing a circuit down to the river and then back up to the markets. People stop and smile all the time – big genuine smiles. I stopped at one point to take a photo of a small boy, it was okay with his parents, but not with the boy apparently. He crawled off in protest. But I stayed and chatted for a while as they explained to me how they make the betel leaves with chewing tobacco. And also explained where the paste comes from that the women and some men smear across their faces, apparently for sun protection but some are made up as though in war paint.

At the market I did a black market currency trade which equipped me with some Kyet (pron. chut) to buy some lunch – thankfully.

The Shwedagon Pagoda is something really special. I found myself there for two hours, mostly just staring at it and daydreaming. It felt like about five minutes. While there I met an old history professor. He travels by bus for three hours to get to the Shwedagon each day, and three hours home, hoping to act as a guide for tourists for some cash. See the government cancelled the pension the year before he was due for one so this is the only way he can make a living. Next year he will become a monk so that he can be looked after in the monastery. My professor friend took me to the Sunday buddha (as I was born on a Sunday) and, following his instruction, I tipped several cups of water on it as he made special blessings for me and my family.

Afterwards I got a cab down to the lake to see what action was taking place there. More like a theme park than authentic Yangon nightlife, you pay a few kyet to get in and then there are (mostly empty) restaurants lining the lakes edge, some with a gorgeous view over to the Shwedagon. I got a beer and watched some young guys rock it out on the guitar for a while before heading back to the “bar” I was at last night.

At the “bar” I met Annie, a fellow Aussie travelling around. I planned to catch a boat to the other side of the river in the morning to see what was there and Annie decided to join.

It was a little confusing at first getting tickets as we were shown into the office, then another office where a cat kept jumping on the desk, only to be unceremoniously pushed off, as our man was trying to write out our “foreigners” tickets. It was only a short trip straight across the river but quite another world compared to Rangoon. At Dalla port it was all chaos and congestion but around the streets it is a quiet and rural life. This area was badly affected a few years ago by cyclone Nargis as many of the houses are made of bamboo and pretty much sit on stilts above swamps.

Most of the time we were there we had trishaw drivers following us around trying to get a gig. They gave up once we were followed by a gaggle of children who would have been happy for us to spend an entire day taking their photo.

Later in the afternoon I headed to the bus station for my first night bus in Burma, up to Bagan. Things went incredibly smoothly and we departed right on time at 5pm. The trip to Bagan was scheduled to take twelve hours, arriving at 5am. This is predominantly the factor determining my route as the Mandalay bus gets in even earlier in the morning.

Burma Bound

A searing red sunset one on side and a golden full moon on the other. Very few lights twinkling below, quite unlike flying into other large cities.

The gleaming white airport was crowded with people, we all had to line up to clear immigration in one of the three sections, diplomats, foreigners and Myanmar – each queue was as dense as the other.

Once through I established the going rate for a taxi and got my ride into town in a very old Toyota Corolla – many parts were missing and the car rattled and coughed its way through the streets of Yangon.

Passing the Shwedagon Paya is a memory that I hope will always stay with me. The huge golden stupa gently lit with the huge golden moon gleaming in the background. Where am I exactly, I feel as though I’ve been transported to a place in time rather than just a place.

After finding a hotel I wandered out into the streets. It was about 8.30pm. Children were playing, men were playing, everyone was out in the streets. At the many food stalls along Mahabandoola Road, groups of men were enjoying their meals, or just sitting around drinking tea.

The city was vibrant, chaotic. Rats were scurrying around, as were a few pregnant stray cats.

Ah, I enjoyed a couple of Myanmar lagers in the company of a Czech-Canadian gentleman. He is struggling here, quite a difficult place to travel he tells me. Forget about comfort and be careful of the food.

I return to my windowless and stuffy room before 10pm as pretty soon all the lights in town will go out.

Tanah Rata, The Cameron Highlands

On Sunday I decided to head up to the cool Cameron Highlands, north of Kuala Lumpur. There wasn't too much information around for how to get here so I headed to the bus station early and got a ticket for the 9.30am bus. It was meant to be around four and a half hours to Ipoh and then another two or so hours to Tanah Rata. Things work a little slower here so I didn't actually get in to Tanah Rata until after 8.30pm. There were a few other nervous travellers around doing the same trip and they were getting quite antsy about buses not turning up and how long they were taking. My big achievement that day was using a squat toilet with my full backpack on - it is possible!

So far the bus journeys from Singapore up to here have had largely unspectacular scenery. It seems they have cut down most of the primary forest in Malaysia and replaced it with palm plantations for the lucrative palm oil industry. Its not that palms aren't attractive trees, but when that is all you see it is a bit heartbreaking when you know the beauty of old growth tropical forests.

The Cameron Highlands is a food bowl for Malaysia and grows a lot of the fruits and vegetables for the country. Driving in the other night was quite surreal. As we curved our way along the mountain roads in the dark, the sides of hills were lit by huge greenhouses with lamps over all the plants. It reminded me of that scene in ET where they construct that temporary hospital/science lab in the street and had all that plastic tubing going into the house.

The weather is noticeably cooler up here and it gets quite cold at night time. The first day I just bummed around, got a massage and wandered around town a little bit.

Today I did a tour around the countryside, visiting several places including a strawberry farm, rose garden, bee farm, tea plantation, butterfly farm and a Buddhist temple. All were quite interesting but didn't really blow my mind. It is pretty up here, that's the best part.

As in Melaka, there's pretty much three food choices - South Indian, Chinese or Malay. Today after the tour I hit a Chinese restaurant for the local specialty, Steamboat. It was an ambitious order and for about $4 I got a huge clay pot on a burner with three separate plates of ingredients to go into the soup including noodles, vegetables and various meaty and seafoody things. I made a bit of a dent in it but it really could have fed a family of four.

I'm heading to Kuala Lumpur tomorrow morning and the following day - Burma!

You say Malacca, I say Melaka

Malaysia, the home of the Proton car, laksa, and in preparation for Chinese New Year, the McDonalds Chicken Prosperity burger!

The bus from Singapore to Melaka takes about four and a half hours and getting through the border was a dream compared to borders in Central America. I stopped at Sentral for a quick bite then headed out to find somewhere to stay. Turns out Melaka gets busy on weekends so it took a little while and then I found a nice, comfy shithole to bunkdown in for the night.

Melaka is proud to now have UNESCO heritage listing and it is a gorgeous little town that has been colonialised by the Dutch, Portuguese and English. And probably anyone else who came along.

Most of the tourist activity takes place in Jonker Walk in the Chinatown. The two nicest things about being in South East Asia (compared to Central America) is the abundance of really good cheap food and cheap massages.

I spent most of my time wandering around, shopping, eating, stopping for a coffee while reading the newspaper - you know, all the leisurely things one does in a place like this.

On Saturday night I headed out to a restaurant called Capitol Satay. Now this is a great idea. Kind of like Korean bbq but in the middle of the table is a boiling pot of satay. So you go and pick up the satay sticks of all kinds of all animals and sea creatures, and some veges, and you dunk it in the pot to cook. The place has a huge reputation as can be evidenced by the queues outside from the minute it opens.

I rounded that out with a walk down Jonker walk and a bit of people watching over a beer in a nice bar there. On the walk back I happened across a bit of a street performance. Sadly I didn't have my camera with me but this was fantastic. The guy was Ho Eng Hui, a Malaysian and Guinness World Record Holder for piercing the most number of coconuts with his index finger in under one minute. Google him - he's amazing. The show included some comedy, audience participation, sales of his own personal herbal remedy, intermixed with soundtracks from Superman, William Tell Overture and I think Rocky as well.

Back on the road again...

With too much time on my hands in Sydney I thought it was a good idea to get away for a little while before getting ready for India. Not many frequent flyer flights available in January, so a booked a return to Singapore and thought I'd figure it out from there.

I should've known that getting the A380 to Singapore would be fraught with problems, but lucky for me, they served me well.

I first flew to Melbourne and ordered a glass of red before waiting to board. Then they announced a rolling delay. Turns out it's a tad inconvenient to have a catering truck crash into an aircraft. This involved engineers determining the damage, a conference to put in place a contingency plan to change aircraft, and a conference call with Airbus in Toulouse to determine if the aircraft was flightworthy - which it was. But that took four hours to figure out.

Meanwhile, we all got a $30 voucher to spend at the shops in the airport. Catch was it all had to be spent in one place. No guesses where the huge queue was. So with a smattering of snackfoods left, I ordered a spinach and fetta filo roll, three glasses of red (they were quite small) and a bottle of water. Really not a bad way to round out four hours waiting for the plane while reading Bukowski.

We finally arrived in Singapore at 1.30am local time, too late for me to check into my hostel which closed at midnight. So I found a Qantas person to see if they could help. Yes she could is the answer. The kind lady organised a room in a five star hotel and said the concierge would pay the taxi driver. Admittedly by the time I got to my room it was 2.30am and I was pretty shagged. But when I woke up they gave me a full breakfast and, on checking out, another SGD25 to get to the airport. But I wasn't going to the airport so that paid for my bus fare up to Melaka in Malaysia.

Thanks Qantas - the only way to fly!!