From Bangkok to Kalaw

On Friday I took out a large chunk of Thai Baht to change into dollars. Once in Myanmar I could change this into the local currency. However, there are no ATM machines in Myanmar so I wanted to take out even more money. This seemed like a relatively simple task for Saturday morning before we got the flight, but unfortunately, it would prove far from simple. My bank appear to have blocked my account, most probably due to the sudden large withdrawal I made! Furthermore, after settling with the quantity of money I already had, I was struggling to find a bank that would change my existing Baht into Dollars. Once one finally opened, I was left almost penniless, so then I had to find another bank which would change one of my travellers cheques! By the time I met Axel to go to the airport, I was exhausted and hungry, but it was time to leave.

The rest of the day, however, was problem free, and before long we had touched down in Yangon and checked in to White House guesthouse. Under the searing heat, we spent our opening day wandering around the streets. The atmosphere of the city was amazing - both busy and chilled out at the same time. The ethnic mix of the locals was staggeringly varied, but the very friendly nature of the locals also was quickly apparent. It felt good to be in the heart of a place which so few people come to visit.

That evening me and Axel took a taxi to Mr Guitar - a bar we'd been recommended by someone we met in Bangkok. It was a very western style place, but solely populated by locals. I ordered a cheeseburger, but somewhere along the way Mr Guitar seems to have misunderstood the interpretation of a cheese burger. The 'burger' part of my meal simply comprised of a piece of sliced cheese - so basically my meal was cheese in bread. Axel's potato burger was equally bizarre. When Mr Guitar closed, we asked a taxi driver what our options were, and we ended up in a very bizarre club. Once again it was very western - but after a series of what were presumably prostitutes continued to hassle us, we very quickly got out.

The following morning we decided to book a bus ticket for the long journey north to Inle lake, but unfortunately we were too late; the bus was full. We therefore took a two hour trip to Bago. After checking in to San Francisco guesthouse, we once again attempted to buy a bus ticket north, this time one day in advance. However, we were once again too late. We therefore bought a ticket for Tuesday, and pondered on how we would spend our time in Bago. We soon met a couple of motorbike drivers who were offering a tour around the city; something we kept in mind.

We decided to take an early night on Sunday. However, whilst reading in our room we were interrupted by a knock at the door. It was two sons who lived in the guesthouse. One of them was repeating something to us over and over, but we failed to understand him. Again he repeated the word, but to no avail. After a short while longer, he picked up some shower gel which Axel had left on the table. "You want some shower gel?" I asked. The word he was repeating then became clearer - "Present? ... Present?". Axel however was not willing to hand away his only ticket to not smelling bad in a very hot and sweaty city. The boys left, but minutes later they knocked on the door once more. "Present ... Present?" he continued to ask, this time holding a small bowl. This time he got what he wished, but as Axel filled the bowl we couldn't help feeling bemused by the experience - was paying the family for our stay not sufficient?

As it turns out, maybe we actually paid the family too much! Sunday night was very long and hard. Our room was exceptionally hot, and with the open balcony door it was extremely noisy. Things got worse, however. I found myself getting quite itchy - presumably a few mosquito bites. After applying some cream to the bites, I returned to bed. The itchiness, however, appeared to be spreading. It took me about two hours until I made my conclusion - the bed had bed bugs. I spent the rest of the night sleeping on the floor - and in much more comfort. The multitude of red rashes on my body the next morning only confirmed my theory. I had no intentions of staying there another night.

At breakfast we once again met the two motorbike taxi drivers. They were extremely friendly and recommended a new place to stay. We accepted a lift there, and it was a huge improvement. Before long, therefore, we made another deal - we accepted the motorbike guide through Bago.

Bago is full of Buddhist temples, statues and monasteries. This was not something either me or Axel were particularly interested in, but there was little else to do. As it turns out, the day was excellent. The huge ninety-five metre leaning Buddha was particularly impressive.

At one point we arrived at a fairly small temple area. Me and Axel were fascinated by the building technique on a nearby building site- the builders were single handedly lobbing bricks up to the first floor, and subsequently catching them. As I watched for a few extra seconds, I soon followed Axel and one of our guides into a room. In the room was a statue of a woman wrapped in a huge snake. However, I was confused; Axel seemed very edgy - he was acting as if the snake was real. I tried mumbling to Axel why he was acting so strange, but kind of felt embarrassed to ask such a stupid question as 'Is the snake real?' ... and then the snake's head moved. I practically shed my skin. The snake was huge and incredibly fat. I just didn't think that they would have a real snake just wrapped there! The story goes that ten years ago the snake came to the complex. That night, a monk had a dream that the snake was the reincarnation of a woman, and thus the statue was built and the snake was kept in the compound, fed with the occasional chicken. I remained in the room for a while, mesmerised by the beast.

After such a great tour we invited our guides to join us at a bar in the evening. As with everybody in Myanmar, they were so friendly, and very happy that people were coming to visit them and their country. There are possibly a few Burmese, however, who feel differently. A drunk man approached me, lightly squeezed my arm, and spoke. "Are you ashamed?" came a deep gruff voice. "No" I replied, turning away back to the table. The man squeezed my arm again, and left. What he meant, I don't know - but it was probably the alcohol talking. Axel revealed to me later that the man had been lingering behind me for a while, and Axel began to grasp his glass tightly as a form of defence. Luckily, the man had moved on fast.

That evening we went to Super Top bar at the recommendation of our guides. It was a very odd place once again - but the food was good. This is something that has really stunned me about Myanmar. I had been told the food was not great, but so far it's been really amazing; my favourite food in South East Asia.

The following day was spent on a very long bus trip north to Kalaw. The bus broke down twice. The first time we broke down, huge bellows of smoke emerged outside, and then inside. However, it was just the air-conditioning that was failing. This meant for a very warm ride. Later on, a tyre went flat on a hillside road at night. However, me and Axel are now in lovely Kalaw, and tomorrow we begin a three day trek to Inle Lake.

I will close this blog entry with a story which one of our motor-bike guides suddenly told us at a Bago pagoda.

A Buddhist man was drowning in the sea. As wave after wave crashed upon him, he knew he was going to die. He did what he only could - he spoke to Buddha. "Buddha", exclaimed the man, "Please save me!". "I'm afraid I can't" replied Buddha. "Your fate is dictated by karma, and your karma is bad." And the man drowned that night.

The following night, a Christian man was drowning in the sea. As wave after wave crashed upon him, he knew he was going to die. He did what he only could - he spoke to Jesus. "Jesus", exclaimed the man, "Please save me!". "I'm afraid I can't" replied Jesus. "Can't you see? I'm nailed to a cross".

And there the story ended.

I'm not quite sure why this story tickled me and Axel so much, but it did. Maybe it was just so unexpected.