Yangon

It was only a potential short journey from Bago to our hotel in Yangon. We estimated an hour or so.
Our security guard at the hotel in Bago flagged us down a local bus on the main road as all the destinations were in Burmese and assured us it was going to Yangon. It was a heap of a local bus, as usual being driven by a maniac who was dressed like an Arab terrorist and chewing betel nut like it was going out of fashion.(betel nut is a mild stimulant which makes your mouth go all red like a vampire). Clearly he had too much betel nut as his driving was erratic to put it kindly and his mate who doubled up as fare collector and chief spitter out the front door while distracting him with the latest phone messages from love lorn single selfie addicts. It was an action packed journey seeing how fast a thirty year old ex-school bus could go. Then it suddenly stopped and they told us all to get off and get on another bus adjacent which was already full and had headroom of only 5.5ft so yours truly had to stand with my back hunched over to avoid penetrating the roof with my dome head on the bumps. This clearly was not going to work as I kept falling onto the other seated passengers so a kindly back row of the bus shuffled up and wedged me in with them so tightly that I could not move an inch as I had my legs rammed up the back of the seat in front with my knees perched underneath my chin. Luckily after 15 minutes they told us all to get off again in the middle of nowhere and told us this was the end of the line. Looked like we had been stitched up again! Still 10km from our hotel and the heat rising we had to barter with a very stroppy Taxi driver who felt hard done by even though he overcharged us by 50%.

Breakfast view of the Shwedagon pagoda made getting out of bed a lot easier.

   The Beautyland hotel was awesome, in a leafy neighbourhood by the lake and from the rooftop breakfast terrace it overlooked the main event, the stunning Shwedagon pagoda. The rest of the day we just unpacked and went for something to eat and done a bit of Christmas shopping for decorations as our room was a bit sparse Xmas wise. Kathy scored some cool led flashy lights and some tinsel and made some 'snowy stars' out of our mountain of used mineral water bottles, a pair of scissors and sellotape (take that Blue Peter!)
  Next day was hot and sunny so we had a very chilled walk around the lake which took all morning, went back to the hotel for lunch then on to a massive Buddha that was standing for a change in the afternoon which was pretty average after the 455 Buddhas we had already seen that day.  Then onto (surprise!) a massive reclining Buddha who had the most beautiful glass eyes that were blue and massive eyelashes that made it look very fetching in an androgynous type of way. We looked for somewhere to eat and found a place called Misfits cafe which suited us just fine, with rooftop views across the sunset of the city. We played a game there called pirate Sam where you push swords into the barrel and if you lose his head springs up and bounces across the floor and makes a lot of noise. The staff found it amusing anyway.

Reclining Buddha had the worst foot odour ever.

  Next day we got a cab from our GRAB app on the phone which we found was working again which was a relief as we found the taxi's to be really cheap. You could go almost anywhere in town for £1-1.50. It took us to the Drug Elimination Museum which was a huge building totally dedicated to the Burmese government's war on drugs which had a touch of irony as Burma is the second highest producer of opium poppies which of course is a class A drug. The Museum was empty apart from the cleaners and some pigeons in the roof space. The displays ranged from serious, to propaganda, to comical, but the best bit was the display of all the kinds of seized drugs by the the government troops, a nice display glass case with nice labels of all the drugs types but all the cases were empty! Looks like the staff had a good time at their Xmas party.

Enough gold to start a Spanish invasion.

 After that another cab ride to Shwedagon pagoda to check out one of the 'must sees' of Asia and we were not disappointed. It was gold, gold, gold everywhere you looked and the scale was impressive.
Take your shoes off though! We spent a while here people watching and monk spying as there was a shady gang of monks hanging out. Photos done we ambled back to the hotel and that night decided we were going for what is known as a Chinese hotpot. For the uninitiated, what this compromises is a boiling hot cauldron of soup in the middle of your table on a hotplate. We chose half spicy Szechuen and half chicken, and you go and choose your ingredients from the fridges. A waiter then collects everything and takes it to your table with beers etc and sets you up with everything you need to start cooking in the boiling soup. You put in what you want bit by bit like a fondue or put the lot in and have a big nosh up. It's a great way to socialise.

Betty from Coronation street never made a hot pot like this.

 Next day was Christmas day and we spent the morning playing cheesy Xmas tunes and opening presents which were extremely limited and mostly travel related and then off outside to the Peoples park via another taxi ride. The park was rammed with all the Burmese taking the day off so we chilled out in the shade with ice-creams as it was so hot. It had rides there like a log flume and roller coasters but the queues were too long and the sight of a gang of mechanics working on the roller coaster in front of the queue did not inspire confidence in us to have a go. It was all a bit surreal sitting there on Xmas day in 32c sun with shorts and scandals on watching Burmese people strolling about in their Sunday best.

  It proved very entertaining for a couple of hours. Then the magical music fountain started up shooting powerful high jets of water into the air making brilliant rainbows as it mixed with the strong sun. The water pulsing along with the super cheesy beats of the song being played at massive decibels across the park.
 As the afternoon shadows lengthened we headed downtown for the first time since being here and were really disappointed. It was traffic choked, polluted, noisy, crowded and dingy. We wandered about for a little while but were uninspired so decided to head for an area called beer street (19th street to the locals) which was a bit of a dive to be honest but had a lot of character and made for some good pavement banter as the beers were cheap on draught and cold so went down quicker than we planned for. After watching all the flies hanging out on all the food stuffs on display spreading their assortment of bowel moving bacteria we decided it would be wise to eat somewhere with a bit more hygiene orientated in nature. Funny enough we thought we could get a Christmas dinner but no chance, as it was impossible just to find somewhere that flies were not part of the meal being served. Eventually we found a nice gaff that was a bit upmarket but had to settle for Pad Thai for Christmas dinner as fermented fish head stew didn't really float our boat.

Kathy digs into her 4th or maybe 6th beer on Beer street.

 Another taxi back to the room which took ages as all the streets were gridlocked with the evenings Xmas celebrations and treated ourselves by cracking open a bottle of wine to round the night off.
 In the morning we would pack as we have to head for the airport for our new year destination which is big, bad, Bangkok. 

Naypyidaw (Nay Pyi Taw) NPT (Naypyidaw to Yangon/bago by bus)

We left Kalaw in our squashy minibus - once again the only tourists on board and probably the only ones paying such a high priced ticket too!  We should have known we had/were literally being taken for a ride when the bus pulled up 3/4 hr late,  3/4 full and with a Burmese hill billy driver who had all the charm of an army sergeant with wasps in his underwear! We were bundled into the back seats, our rucksacks squished into the back (only held in by the back door being shut) and off we went.  The ride was extremely bumpy, hot and long - taking 5 hrs with only 1 stop for the loo/lunch (so we went easy on the water).
On arrival at Naypyidaw, we discovered that it's a bloody big place and we had been dumped a long way from the hotel district at a local market/bus station into the merciless grabby mitts of a flurry of taxi drivers. The designers of Naypyitaw (also known as NPT) decided in their wisdom that they would situate ALL the hotels outside of town either to the south or to the north with no public transport connections so you have to get a taxi there which is not cheap. The hotel was 10km away in the north zone 2 and after asking around a gang of taxi drivers we opted for the only one who could speak English as if we were going to get ripped off at least it would be someone who bothered to learn our lingo.
Naypyidaw is the new capital city of Myanmar, replacing the old Yangon in 2006. The locals know it as the empty city and it's a very appropriate name! We found smooth, tarmaced super highways (i.e 6 lanes plus each side), huge roundabouts, lots of National Parks (Herb, Fountain), hardly any traffic or people and more official buildings than you can shake a stick at!  The government spent an estimated 4-5 billion on constructing the city and contracted 27 companies who all worked at the same time and works were only completed in 2012.  We thought it had a very similar feel to our Milton Keynes but with a presence of those eastern block towns you find in Poland and East Germany that are grandeur in build and scale but like a ghost town in atmosphere.

It was not only Jesus who learnt to walk on water.

Anyway, we got a taxi to our hotel and were pleasantly surprised to find it had a swimming pool, tennis courts and a gym (we only used the first one being lazy gits!).  Our room was huge with a decent sized balcony overlooking some scrub land at the back of the hotel.  The only downside was it was miles from anywhere (i.e restaurants, shops!) so we had to arrange to hire a motorbike from the staff at the hotel.
We were given a clapped out moped with no working front brake or rear light which we rented for 3,000 kyat per hour (about £1.67).  Off we chugged down the super highway, just us and the wind and the darkening evening sky, looking for the super shopping centre where we could stock up.  After getting lost a bit down some dark back roads, we eventually found an impressive huge shopping mall which housed a well stocked supermarket including alcohol!! We grabbed a trolley and dashed around as we were aiming to get the bike back within the hour.  This became our little mission every evening for the 3 nights here. Every night we had a different bike depending on what staff member was bullied or desperate enough to lend it to us. We never got the same bike twice but all were equally in a hopeless condition and it was only the fact there is no traffic whatsoever that we avoided any accidents as most the bikes had no brakes. Well except for the one night we cut up a police van going down the one way the wrong way and they shouted at us!

Those magic mushrooms were seeking revenge on Kathy's subconscious.

  The next day was Daz's birthday, 50 years old, so he could do what he wanted, he took the easy option of bumming around by the pool that he had to himself as the hotel like the rest of town was devoid of any guest. Evening turned into a rum binge (£1 a bottle) with our hard-drive plugged into the flat screen TV in the room for some music (we cranked the volume up to 11 just like Spinal Tap did) blasting out many a dodgey tune and dancing around our room.
  I was nursing a nasty hangover next morning but Daz was OK. I must admit though I did get a taste for that rum and must of polished off over half a bottle, chased with a couple of beers. After a lengthy morning in the room we again borrowed a bike from another charitable staff member and whizzed off into what they call the town centre but it's nothing that we would recognise as such. You think it would be easy to get a bus to Bago as it is basically the next big town before Yangon. But this was not to be the case when we pulled up at the bus station. No-one spoke English, there was not an English sign anywhere and everybody we asked just shock their head and tried to get rid of us. Turned out there was no direct bus to Bago. We had to get a bus to Yangon and change to another bus and come back out again. Grrrrrrr! Luckily we found someone who spoke English who brokered a deal for us with a bus company to go to Yangon. We then went sight seeing and started off at the fountain park which they charged to get in a park which was weird then charged us to park the bike. We walked around for about an hour or so but found the musical fountain was not working. The park was delightful with quirky areas like concrete mushrooms and log flumes that you could ride or pedal a swan gondola around the lake.The day was so hot though all we could do is go from shady bit to shady bit and sit down. I think the night before had made us a little fragile. We hit the road again and were going to see a large pagoda which is the second largest in Burma but it was another 5km down the road (which is close for NPT) so again could not be bothered as we have already seen 238 pagodas previously so would not despair at missing this one. We did though go to the infamous 20 lane highway which is amazing in itself as it is huge. 10 lanes north and 10 south. The thing that makes it so surreal is no one uses it so it is empty. After taking photos we decided it was a good idea to ride it swerving from lane 1 to lane 10 without worry of upsetting any other road users. Rumour has it it was built so it could be doubled up as an aircraft runway in case Parliament had to be evacuated in an emergency. Very cunning. I also read that the capital was moved from Yangon to here as the military rulers were in fear of Yangon suffering an amphibious attack from an enemy so moved it inland. Talk about paranoid.
Anyway that sums up Nappyitaw, the empty town, not really a tourist destination but worth the trip just to see a massive, beautiful town with vast amounts of money spent on its construction and many an architectural gem to be seen but to be unused. All the roads were planted beautifully with flowering plants and had manicured gardens mile after mile on the roadside but no one to view them. Except us. Shame.

It was hard to find a gap in the traffic to pull out.

Kalaw

Another day, another destination. So far every town or city we have visited in Burma has been so different to each other and our next destination Kalaw was the pick of the bunch. In total contrast to everything we thought Burma was, then pops up this small town high up in the mountains where the air is cool and clean, the sun shines with crisp blue skies, and pine trees grow in abundance giving it a feeling of an alpine ski resort in summer in Switzerland. We wanted to get the train there from Inle lake but the trains are so slow, taking 8 hours for a 80km ride as it has to negotiate old fashioned switchbacks to get to the height of Kalaw which is 1500 metres. Also the train leaves at very unsociable times so we opted for a taxi to the main highway and then jumped on a local chicken bus where the driver was well chuffed to bag a couple of whiteys which seem to give him great pride as he decided to try to impress us with his formula 1 driving skills up to the mountains, undertaking lorries on hairpin turns that were blind exits and generally giving Kathy and I  the feeling that our lives may be in danger. I was even more impressed with the fact that he had a motorbike roped onto the roof and we both expected the bike to come crashing through the windscreen as the immense G forces were asserted on it when taking these hairpins at white knuckle speeds and hard breaking to avoid juggernauts on the wrong side of the road coming the other way.

Typical Kalaw vista.

  Saying that he did get us to Kalaw in a new world record time of 2 hours and dumped us off on the main drag. The bike was still on the roof with all the sacks of rice for company. It looked like the old woman in front of us leaning out the window for most of the journey had been sick down the outside of the van which added to the kudos for the driver me thinks. Well, we paid him the mighty sum of £5.50 for his troubles which is a lot less than a ticket to Alton Towers for a day of white knuckle rides so overall a bargain! Another taxi than took us to the hotel as we could not be bothered to walk the 2km in the heat of the midday sun.
   The hotel was impressive as it was like 3 alpine ski lodges with all the rooms decked out like the inside of a sauna with wood panelling floor to ceiling. We did notice though there was a lot of blankets in the room, not sure why?
    We set off into town to book a guide for some trekking around the hills where a lot of the villagers still live a traditional way of life with their own dialects and customs. As night fell the temperature dropped rapidly and we soon found ourselves at the local market shivering so decided to splash out on some warm fleeces as our sandals and t shirt clothes stock was not going to cut it. That night it dropped to 7c with no heating in the room and all you could do is pile the blankets on the bed and keep warm with a nice bottle of stout. Not sure why they put fridges in the rooms though. One saving grace was a luxury that we missed dearly. A bathtub! With hot water! (a rare luxury in Asia). So we sat in the bath most nights to keep warm as there was zero things going on at night here. We did try the beer station a couple of nights but supping ice cold beer while sitting in a open fronted building wearing all our clothes at once somehow did not appeal.

Gold Buddha emporium in a cave.

  Next day we went hiking under our own steam for a few hours and it was awesome walking down lanes of pretty wildflowers everywhere, locals washing themselves outside their wooden shacks in wooden tubs, chickens and dogs running around in the road and kids constantly staring at us in bewilderment until we said hello in Burmese and next they would explode into smiles and chase us down the road shouting "hello,hello!" while waving furiously. We ended up at a monastery on top of a hill with fantastic views but had a scary climb up there as the covered walkway was infested with these big yellow and black stripped spiders which were everywhere.....there were hundreds of them with webs all over our heads. They looked nasty buggers and maybe they could have been poisonous so did not hang around in case they knew how to jump and inject us with their deadly venom and we would end up as another tourists statistic abroad. Inside the monastery was an ancient bamboo Buddha (surprise surprise!) which had all kinds of myths and legends attached to it to make it ultra holy, even more holy than the thousands of gold Buddhas we have already seen, with pilgrims buying pieces of gold leaf and applying them to the body of the Buddha as an offering to save their souls. An embarrassing moment then happened as a woman came up to us and put a flask of green tea at our feet and a large silver tray which contained quite a sizable feast and told us in no uncertain tones to eat. We did wonder why the whole place was busy with people all sitting on the floor eating from these big trays of food. It must of been some ritual of Buddhism I guess but because no one spoke English and we are not Buddhist we had no idea how to react. Refuse it and insult them? Eat it and then have to endure a 3 hour meditation session? Do we pay for it or is it free? Is it right that we accept strangers food and give nothing in return? We took the easy route as we were not hungry as had not long had breakfast so smiled, thanked them in Burmese, bowed a little and left the temple. I hope Buddha was not offended or it will be eternal damnation for us. This is typical of the day to day decisions you have to make with different faiths and cultures of different countries when travelling but it sure beats sitting in an office thinking what to have for lunch everyday back in England.

An English country garden with Chinese pots and umbrella?

  After we left there we ambled along some quiet lanes and came across a twee little cottage with an English country garden which was doing tea and cakes so we decided to stop for a reload. As Kalaw was once a British hill station back in colonial days you find a lot of colonial British architecture around which blends nicely with the alpine ski chalets dotted around the hills. Then we headed through an army checkpoint to a temple that was inside the side of a cliff with deep caves running into the limestone. All along these natural passages were thousands of gold Buddhas, toe to toe, they just went on deeper and deeper into the cave. It was insane to think that people had put all these artifacts in such numbers into these caves for their beliefs. Religion is a very powerful force indeed.
   Impressed with the sights so far we ambled back to the chalet for a rest as it becoming increasing hot during the day. Being so high up the air was cool and crisp but the sun was intense and burning was easy to do.

PG Tips being processed.

  Next day we found a guide who spoke good English and we liked his personality after quite a few blanks from other companies. As we did not want to walk the 30km they recommended so we altered the route to suit and got a taxi to the start point. From there we embarked on a tiring 14km trek across unbelievable scenery in the mountains along old dirt tracks, watching traditionally dressed villagers harvest their crops of coffee, pumpkin, oranges, ginger and sugar cane while our guide interacted with them so we could take photos. We walked through remote mountainside villages and stopped for lunch inside one of the villagers houses where the kids were doing their homework with their mother, tea was being dried on blankets outside in the sun and all the cooking was done on an open fire on a mud brick floor. Our guide knocked us up a feast of Shan noodle soup ( a local dish) and a platter of fruit. We then finished off the trek back to the road where the guide called us another taxi and we headed back into town. A great day out but we were exhausted as at 1700metres the air is a lot thinner making walking more strenuous than at sea level.

At the station the vegetables had bought all the 1st class tickets.

 The day after our legs were feeling it so decided against the proposed bicycle tour we had planned and headed to the train station to investigate the next leg of our journey to Nay Pyi Taw. There we met a nice Dutch girl waiting for the train and asked her about her plans. It turned out she was going to the next town which was an 7 hour journey then changing trains (although she had no idea if this was possible) and then getting another 14 hour sleeper to Bago then another 6-8 hour journey to see the golden rock down in the southeast of the country. We admired her commitment but secretly we thought she was mad to spend 2 days on a train to see a golden rock on a side of a cliff. Instead we went into town and bought a bus ticket from a nice English speaking travel agent but had to pay well over the odds as our destination was unusual and there was only one company that made the journey  there so had no choice.

Our guide was intrigued by Kathy's Eastenders update.

  Overall Kalaw was my favourite destination so far in Burma as it was the most surreal and totally different to anywhere else we had seen. It reminded me of Dalat in Vietnam. Kathy was not so keen as she did not like the cold nights but for me growing up in Wales with no heating it was like childhood revisited. I later googled a picture of the golden rock that the Dutch girl was going to see on the train so saved myself 2 days of train journeys and felt very pleased with myself for being so efficient. 

Inle Lake

An early start again as we got a taxi to the airport at Bagan which was only 2 km from the centre of town. We had a flight with a company called Golden Myanmar, a local company so we did not know what to expect. The airport was tiny and had a short runway so could only take turbo prop planes. Security was relaxed and a bus took us to the plane waiting on the runway. Once boarded we had to wait an hour on the runway as they said that weather conditions were not favourable but with the amount of ground support staff coming and going I think there was an issue with the plane which made us a bit nervous. When we arrived after 40 minutes the weather was perfect so go figure on that. The planes are old so bound to get a few issues now and again but it got us there safely so we can’t complain. At the airport which was in the middle of nowhere called Heho there was no buses so had to get a rip-off taxi into town at Inle lake to the nearest town called Nyuang Shwe which was a small dusty laid back town. We were early at the hotel so had to wait for our room to be made up so they gave us green tea and fruit to keep us occupied. When the room was ready at the Aquaruis Inn we were really pleased and it was beautiful and the owners made us feel really welcomed.

These 2 loved to neck a few beers at the beer station. 

Now settled in we cruised around town and booked a boat ride for the next day with one of the local dudes hanging around by the river who spoke good English and gave us a killer price as there was a serious lack of tourists around. In fact everywhere we've been so far there has been a lack of tourists and the locals we spoke to thought it was down by at least 50% from last year. We can only think people have been put off by all the bad press the country has received concerning the Rakhine crisis so due to safety fears or maybe for a moral standing have decided not to travel here.

The early morning departure on the boat was cold which we knew it would be but did not realise just how cold it was this time in the morning in an open longboat. Coupled with that it looked like rain so half an hour into the journey we decided to abort and try another day.

Mo the boatman loved his backhanders from all the stall holders we visited.

We did manage to hire some boneshaker bicycles from an old couple near the hotel but after 20 minutes Kathy was panting and exhausted. After taking the mick out of her for being so out of shape I offered to swap bike and soon realised the back brake was binding on and making it twice as hard to pedal so had to retract my accusations about her lack of fitness. We took the bikes back and then tried to swap it with another but after riding his whole fleet of 15 bikes none came up to the grade. To be frank they were Chinese built pieces of crap in varying stats of dilapidation. After we made him pull all his bikes out of storage and stopped him eating his dinner we found a bike that would do so went back to the hotel to pick up a few bits and as we parked up the kick stand snapped off!

 A Burmese speed hump.

We decided it was not a good idea to go far on these bikes as they were likely to fall apart so just explored around town for the day loading our fridge up with beer. We got the girls from the hotel to cable tie the stand to the frame and returned the bikes under the cover of darkness to the old man and made a hasty get-away before he sussed out that it was broken.

That night we went to the night market which was a low key affair with mostly food stalls banging out the same old greasy fast food options. Here we spied a dog who was bouncing up and down to the beat of the disco being blasted out from a cocktail bar. It made us laugh as we thought it was a trick he had picked up to get people to give him food as he was a stray. As we were laughing at him busting some moves next to a group of Burmese, one of them informed us that he had swallowed some poison which had damaged his nervous system making him bounce up and down uncontrollably. Two of his friends had died from the same poison. Taking pity on this dog for laughing at him we decided to adopt him and called him Disco then every night we were at the night market we bought him some meat off the stalls and fed him as he looked staving. He must have been grateful as on our last day as we were leaving to our next destination and were getting in the taxi, he was outside the hotel gate to say goodbye.

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Hey Mister do you want to buy some of this tourist crap I can't get anyone to buy?

When we did eventually find some bikes that were roadworthy from another agent next day, we rode down to a floating village on the lake which was about 10km away along the west side of the lake. It was really fascinating watching all the goings on as all the houses are on stilts in the lake and are not joined at all so the only way to get around is by boat. We ended up at a stilted cafe to have some lunch then had a debate on where we thought that the waste from the toilets ended up as there was no plumbing , just a chute straight into the lake. Next to the toilets we saw 2 men in the water digging the lake bed up to make an artificial garden with their bare hands. Kathy then needed the toilet. We departed soon after, before the men digging got her pee pee on their hands. It does make you wonder though that all the waste from the village must go into the lake and from that lake the villagers are catching their fish and growing their crops from the very same water. With the amount of people living there and the area that the lake covers is not that vast, coupled with the fact it does not rain hardly at all for 9 months of the year, I can’t help thinking that a disaster is not too far away. On the way back to the hotel it started to rain funny enough so at least Kathy’s pee got diluted to save the men digging in the lake corroded hand syndrome and any 3 eyed fish being born. We pulled over into a local roadside shop and they had one of those swinging garden chairs out front so bought a couple of beers and sat in the swinging chair watching people coming, staring at the two drunks in the chair, buying their booty and leaving which went on for about an hour until the rain stopped. We then carried on and found a local passed out in the middle of the road drunk as a skunk with his bottle of grog next to him. Trucks were coming down the road and swerving around him as his legs were sticking out into the middle of the road. We did think about moving him to safer ground but was worried about him becoming a snake snack being so incapacitated so just took a photo and left him there to take his chances, he seemed happy enough in his delirium.

' Ah yes, this one has the bouquet of toilet duck'

 We then thought a visit to the local winery was in order to taste what Burma had to offer. We slogged it up to the top of the hill and built up a good thirst so quenched it by trying a selection of wines picked for us with some peanuts to cleanse our pallet. The reds were truly awful, tasting like burnt wood and toilet cleaner. The whites were better but tasted very similar to the cheap bottles of Hock we used to buy when we were younger in the 80’s from Sainsbury’s to get drunk on the cheap. The prices they were asking for the bottles were not cheap at all so declined to buy any stock and lazily swerved our way back to the hotel to sleep it off.

Eventually on the 4^th day we took our promised boat tour of the lake which was alright but became tedious as the day progressed as it always ended up with us being hassled by either a silversmith, weaver, cigar roller, umbrella maker, and so on to buy their products. The best part was our boatman/guide who we called Mo (out of the Simpsons as he had a massive underbite on his jawline). We were dumped at an overpriced stilted cafe for lunch while our boatman (Mo) disappeared and reappeared after lunch to receive his backhander from the owner. It was a nice day out though visiting all the villages, looking into village life on the lake but it was very staged and tourists were turned about with remarkable ease. As it was only £8 for the whole day being driven around in a boat so we can’t complain.

You might as well pee off the balcony because that is where it goes. 

Eventually our time in Inle Lake came to an end but we really enjoyed staying there as it was so easy and relaxing and the people were so friendly. Next we move into the mountains to Kalaw for some trekking.  

Bago (Bago to Yangon by bus)

We got picked up from our hotel (Aye Chan Thar) by the same taxi driver who took us there 3 days earlier as he seemed nice enough before. He showed up on time and even bought out his 'special' car  to pick us up which was an upgrade to an executive sedan which made me think we were definitely getting over charged for this journey.
   The bus station which can only be described as a market with a lay-by where buses would just pull up randomly and people would show up from the shadows and jump aboard. It was a bit ad-hock but seemed to work. Our bus was bright pink with nice velour pink seat covers to match but surprisingly for the low fare we paid had loads of leg room, the seats reclined loads and were comfy and they even gave us water, clean up wipes and a sick bag! Very thoughtful!

Breakfast fit for a .....prisoner?

   The bus journey was a breeze, stopping half way for lunch and a piddle for half an hour and arriving in Yangon after 5 hours. It stopped at the companies own bus station and not the one in the centre of town that we were expecting which threw us a bit. No one spoke English so I tried to buy a ticket to Bago which was sold to me but I was concerned about the price as it was twice the fare we had just paid to arrive from Naypyitaw. As a security check you have to get your luggage vetted by some appointed representatives  from the bus company who asked me my destination as we were checking in to board. I said Bago. He said Bago to me about 5 times to which I replied back to him 5 times Bago! He then enlisted a few other chaps and a heated debate broke out between them all as the word Bago was bandied around us like it was some kind of magical catchphrase that would win us a million dollars on the spot. This verbal tennis of shouting Bago at each other continued until someone said we had the wrong ticket and had bought a journey to Bagan which was 12 hours away not the 1 hour we were expecting. The security guard took me under his wing, back to the ticket counter where I was refunded and informed there were no buses to Bago! Great!!!! The problem was there is a very slight pronunciation difference between o ( aaaoooow) and an (aaawwnnnn) in Burmese so hence the confusion.
  BUT as luck would have it my new friend the security guard found a waiting taxi 'friend' who would take us to the Bago local bus across town for a fee of 2000kyat (about £1) I was sceptical about this as am sure they just wanted to get rid of us as quite a crowd of onlookers had built up with all the shouting of "Bago" back and forth. Before I knew what was going on the rucksacks were in the back of the taxi, a bewildered Kathy loaded in the back seat and we were off.  Cruising around a rather tatty part of town the taxi driver called out to some lads on the side of the road and exchanged short bursts of what sounded like verbal machine gun fire and next we were told to get on this bus that look like it had been recovered from the battlefield when the British invaded before WW2.  Reluctantly we boarded the all ready mostly full bus and our rucksacks were chucked into the middle alley at the front and we took 2 separate seats as there was not a choice. Looking around this was not a tourist standard transport. Bags of rice and veggies occupied the walk way and the clientele were mostly farmers. Again no one spoke English but the fare was a modest 55p each but we had to pay another 55p for the luggage. The bus was sloooow as it stopped every 100 metres to pick up more and more people until the bus was at bursting point(which took about an hour) at which point someone must had put a red flag in front of the driver as he suddenly found the accelerator and drove the next 1.5 hours like he just remembered that his house was on fire and had to get back to save his children.
  The journey was interesting to see all the small outlying villages and rural life unfolding before us but uncomfortable as the seats were rock hard and the bus had zero suspension so spent the whole journey bobbing up and down getting our backsides pounded into submission. There were no official stops to talk of , you just shout out when you want to get off, which we did when I saw a sign for  our hotel and the bus driver pulled the bus to a stop in the middle of the main road like we were going to drive off the edge of a cliff. Glad to be off ,it was now dark so managed to cross the 8 lane highway without being splatted which took some courage as some vehicles don't like to use lights and checked into the hotel. The hotel was new and of a decent grade but a long way out of town so we had to hire a scooter which as normal had no front brake and optional lights. It's funny what  you get used too.
 The hotel was in the middle of nowhere, so we asked reception about a restaurant near by as in-house was expensive and of limited menu. She said 'no restaurant and no shop here'. Undeterred we headed out anyway and found a restaurant a few yards away that served draught beer and good food so not sure what the hotel was on about.

Attention to detail is paramount on religious relics.

  Next morning, breakfast was a disaster, crap coffee, cold soggy noodles and a cold greasy egg that looked it was made the day before. We ate the banana and made our own coffee and left the rest. Oh did I mention we also had a side serving of shredded cabbage....YUM! As we only had one day we hit the road on the excuse for a bike trying not to get killed on this crazy road and headed into town . Bago was a heaving mass of people, stray dogs, dust, pollution and general mayhem. More like a typical Indian town really. After getting lost and ending up in the local 'favela' we found our first temple. It was quiet , on the edge of town, and of no great shakes temple wise, the normal pagodas and such buildings but in one of these was the biggest snake we have ever seen. I think it was a Burmese python and it was massive. This snake is sacred as it lives in this temple and pilgrims come from vast distances to make donations to the snake in the form of money (not sure what a snake would do with money?) and pillows, blankets and even a dress! The snake also had his own snake shaped swimming pool. This was one pampered snake. Legend has it when the temple was built the snake was a resident and refused to leave so the chief monk at the time adopted it and thus the snake temple was born and to to this day even though that monk had died the snake lives on and is revered most highly by all. If you come to see the snake and pray to it then a 'translator' will give you a blessing from the snake to protect you. Of course you have to pay the snake for his trouble so all the money is piled up in stacks on its tail (which the translator chappie took great delight in counting)

The monastery was missing a monk, snake said he knew nothing about it.......

Next to the snake was two statues of a couple of wise men or ex-monks, not sure exactly as again no English here, and people would mumble at them, bow, mumble some more, then light a cigarette and place it in their fingers for them to smoke. They would then get the cigarette and pass it to the lips of the statue for them to have a 'drag' then replace it in their fingers. Bizarre! Religion moves in mysterious ways. Then they would leave the cigarette burning and walk off, leaving the cigarette to burn back to the butt, become unbalanced, drop onto the statues lap and onto the alter where all flammables were situated. How that snake has not been burnt to death I will never know. It must have the protection of the Buddha after all. Of course we put the cigarette out as we did not want snakey to burn to death on our watch.

"Time for a fag break from counting my fistful of dollars."

   Next we went to the train station as we wanted to get a train back to Yangon for the following day but it was mayhem there, again nothing in English, the morning train was already an hour late and there was no sign of it coming so we decided that it was not worth the effort so opted for a bus back into Yangon.
   Next we went to a monastery where monks were trained and you could be a voyeur and watch them at their studies, eating, chanting and all the stuff monks do. We sat around watching the goings on and listening to the chanting for quite a while as it was really relaxing then wanted some lunch. Back at the bike, the monks must have cursed it as it lost all electrics and would not start. Not to worry as soon as a couple of monks saw we were in distress they took it upon themselves to come over and 'fix' the bike for us. They were all over it like a rash, had no idea what they were doing but well meaning anyway. I did not have the heart to tell them I was a 20 year + factory trained motorcycle technician and knew what the problem was straight away. I let them get on with it until they gave up as it turned out Buddha was useless at fixing bikes (better find another religion chaps as yours has a flaw) but they got it running with the kickstart and seemed most pleased with themselves at this conclusion. We smiled, thanked them, smiled again and drove around the corner where I promptly pulled over, lifted the seat up, and tightened the battery terminal which was hanging off and all was as good as new again. Thanks for nothing Buddha.

The monks chat up lines were not going to cut it with a veteran like Kathy.

 After lunch at an over posh restaurant we spent the afternoon looking at more temples, more golden Buddhas, more stupas, more pagodas,more reclining, standing, sitting, fat, thin, black, white, sleeping, awake, disinterested Buddhas (there are more temples than we could count here) we ended up at a truly huge reclining Buddha and admitted we were totally templed out so headed back to the hotel. When we got back to our room our cold greasy breakfast was still there festering away so we went to complain. The items were removed by the boyz and I thought it would be a good opportunity to get a more western friendly breakfast ( a cop out I know, but noodles for breakfast as well as lunch and dinner, c'mon everybody deserves a noodle break). My request was met with blank expressions so I wrote it all down in my best handwriting and left it with vacant lady on reception who assured me my order would be executed. At the bottom I wrote in big letters 'NO NOODLES'

Buddha became perplexed with the selfie infatuated foreigners.

   Next morning we got cold greasy rice with a cold greasy egg on top with cabbage and crap coffee but no hot eggs or toast which I had asked for. I was a bit rude  to the boyz who delivered it and told them just to take it away so it did not fester in our room with its morose farty smell. Sometimes you just have to admit defeat. You can't always get what you want, just move on.
As it goes we went back to our dinner restaurant from the day before and they banged us up a couple of tomato omelette's which were great and only 25p each. Result!
   We packed the rucksacks and about midday walked onto the road outside where the security guard flagged us down a bus to take us to our next destination Yangon.

Bagan

Bagan

We had booked a 10hr boat trip to take us from Mandalay to Bagan our next destination so it was an early start then a taxi to the pier. Here we boarded on to a medium sized boat via some very slippery and steep stone steps down to some narrow, wobbly wooden planks over the water.

It was all tourists on board and we were the only Brits so we staked our claim to the best seats on the upper deck and made them more comfy using some life jackets as seat cushions! Luckily the boat held 90 passengers but with only 18 on board we had the sun deck to ourselves as most of the other 16 were from Saga holidays so slept below.

Daz won the knobbly knee contest on the sundeck.

The trip was comfortable and we got fed breakfast and lunch as well as being kept hydrated with an endless supply of green tea or coffee. It was a company without any reviews so we had been nervous but it turned out to be really good and the time flew by easily. Late afternoon arrived and we were at Bagan! A slightly nervous crossing ashore via a single, very wobbly plank (luckily our balance is fairly good so no wet rucksacks!!).

Next, due to an English/Burmese translation problem, we ended up in the back of a horse & cart ‘taxi’ to get to our guesthouse. Well the horse looked ready to retire before we even set off so the ‘driver’, Mr No Teeth, had to give him plenty of encouragement with some taps of his stick and loud ‘Hurgh’ noises. It was painfully slow and the cart was tipping us back threatening to dump us into the road so we were glad when we eventually arrived at our digs.

You can't take the pikey out of the traveller.

 We checked in and shown to our room which was a basic affair with twin beds, fridge, no storage and a TV which was all the rage 20 yrs ago! (plus it was all Burmese TV channels!). Unfortunately the t.v. blew up after the 1^st night when we had a power surge so we had to do without that.

Bagan is very backward compared to Mandalay’s big city affair – dusty dirt roads, only small shops (no supermarkets or mini marts) and the best bit, all tourists need to get around one of three ways – on foot, on bicycle or an electric (‘E’) bike! The first night we chose on foot just to walk to the main restaurant street which was nerve racking in the dark with no proper footpaths and traffic whizzing within inches of us. As our country’s history with Burma hasn’t always been a mutually happy one, we took to telling the locals that we were from Iceland (as they always ask) which has provided a lot of amusement as none of them know where it is or what to say to us afterwards! We have continued this practise and recently some guy thought it meant we spoke Irish! Oh well……

Both these subjects had clearly taken too many happy pills.

Anyway, we had come here to see the endless temples doted over a large area of Bagan so we hired an E bike and off we went, Daz driving and me seated on a ‘pad’ on the rear rack as the seat was not big enough for the both of us. After a few miles on the rough dusty tracks it felt that my arse was being pounded harder than Bangkok ladyboy on a busy night out but luckily Daz wasn’t feeling too well so we managed a couple of smaller temples and a sunset view before having to call it quits and return to the safety of the room and private loo (say no more!!). That night it was bed rest for him and dinner on my lonesome and a hope that the following day would be more rewarding as we only had 3 nights booked here.

Get your point across with  extra punctuation.

The last day we were up early and raring to go. I had persuaded Daz that we should get a bike each as it was uncomfortable sitting on the back so over the road we went to arrange hiring these with our friend, Dragon Lady Mark II. No deposit, no passport and not even any paperwork….10,000 kyat later (about £5.50) and off we whizzed on our E bikes with our pee pot lids and silent engines………..slow and steady was the pace! Gaining confidence as the day progressed we went deeper and deeper into the dirt roads where some of the rarer temples were situated away from the other tourists. The area these temples take up is huge and part of the fun is just cruising around on the bikes taking in the shifting vistas.

Security came and took the intruders away.

 As the day was coming to an end, we found a temple we were allowed to climb which was rare and watched another blistering red sunset descend on the temple zone then as we were leaving next day and had to return the e-bikes Daz was persuaded to teach me some motocross skills so we hit the dirt roads flat out as darkness fell and mercilessly pounded the bikes to within an inch of their lives which now is likely to be much shorter, making the suspension on my bike emit some very terminal noises. We nursed the bikes back to the agent and dropped them back with a cheery wave to the owner with innocent faces to boot. Dinner was next and was going to the local Weatherspoons funny enough (nothing to do with the real Witherspoons that we have in U.K.) but found it bursting with the over enthusiastic trip advisor crowd that frequent such establishments that are listed on their website so instead opted for a more ‘local’ place with no white faces but some nice draught beer and an interesting pizza type meal that tasted a bit on the funky side. You would not get this from Domino’s. Our next destination was going to be Inle lake which meant transversing the country by means of a 12-14hour overnight minibus ride that we had seen some bad reviews about so we decided to splash out and book an internal flight to save us the hassle and as it turned out cheap enough at $50 each.

Errrrrr........MORE pagodas and temples.

Mandalay (Myanmar/Burma)

To leave Hat Yai in Thailand we took an early morning flight to Bangkok and then transited to another plane for the flight to Mandalay. Most travellers would go to Yangon first as their entry point to Myanmar (although our British government website still calls it Burma, its colonial name when it was part of the British empire.) but just to be a bit different we decided to fly into Mandalay and work our way southwards to Yangon and then exit Burma via the land crossing at Mai Sot back into  Thailand as we needed to kill some time before flying off to the Philippines because over the Christmas period the Philippinos, being mostly catholic, celebrate Christmas big style with major travel chaos and all accommodation prices being inflated and booked up. (much like the U.K!)

So it was another Air Asia flight to Mandalay for another peanuts price (what they charge and the service they provide are excellent for a budget carrier and make Ryanair look like donkeys) and an on time landing at a very remote a scrubby background of an airport. We had pre-ordered our visa’s through the internet which was very straight forward for the sum of $50 each and on landing had no hassle at all getting the visa’s approved. Outside in arrivals we took out some cash which is called Kyats (pronounced chat) and bought a SIM for the phone which they fitted and registered for us in less than a minute for a months internet and talk for under £6. Bargain. Next we bought a bus ticket each into town which was 23km away for just a fraction over £2 each. Bargain! The bus dropped us outside our hotel door. We were shown our room which was a penthouse room (well it was on the top floor with lots of windows) after we complained because the room they gave us first of all stank of fags (yes they still allow smoking in public places here). Feeling really chuffed with ourselves as how well it had all gone since landing we had a beer each and looked forward to what Burma could show us.

Kathy liked to wear a scarf on chilly mornings.

Next morning we had an unusual wake up call at daybreak. (6am) The whole hotel was vibrating and there was this massive noise from outside the window which sounded like a road hammer drill going off in your head when you have a bad hangover. The beer I had was 8.1% but I only had one bottle so no way did I have a hangover. Reluctantly I got up as we were expecting a nice lay in being we had started at 5.15am the previous day so were knackered and pulled back the curtains. There was a huge building site out the back and they were pile driving foundation rods into the ground right outside in preparation for building an office block or another hotel. Nooooooo!

It was a really nice room but the noise was obscene so we got the hotel to change our room (again...they must have loved us?) and had to downgrade to a front room which was a lot quieter but with no window. Overall, apart from that the hotel was fabulous with breakfast on the roof and great service.

After changing rooms which took us until lunch time thus we wasted half a day we ventured out on a couple of boneshaker cycles as Mandalay is a big city and the public transport is local knowledge only via assorted pick-up trucks criss crossing several routes with no map to speak of. First port of call was the Royal Palace, a huge structure in the middle of town (it’s in a shape of a square and each wall is 2km long) Where we had to go through an overcomplicated procedure concerning surrendering our passports to the Army which we declined so they accepted our room key????? and then getting an I.D. badge, signing some big red book for foreigners, leaving our bikes at the checkpoint office, walking through the gate after buying an entry ticket which was overpriced and once inside as it was a 2km walk to the palace and back so you had to hire a local women and her scooter and she would drive you to the palace with yourself pillion,(so it was 2 bikes we had to pay for extra) wait an hour for you and then drive you back. Bizarre! The procedure was reversed at the other end. We wouldn’t have minded but it was not worth the high ticket price or hassle as the palace was in a poor state of repair and not memorable.

We caught the palace guard lion topping up his tan.

Next we hit a beer station nearby but stuck to soft drinks and chips as cycling around the roads took all your wits to stay alive. After our refreshment we headed up Mandalay Hill which overlooks the city. The climb up was amazing as you pass through pagoda after pagoda, up hundreds of steps to the summit with all kinds of bizarre characters, monks chatting away, peeks of awesome views across the city, stray dogs and cats befriending you, every other person saying ‘hello’ to you, artists trying to sell their wares, golden Buddha's, food stalls selling aromatic nibbles, flower sellers, prayer bead sellers, the list goes on. Of course everywhere has to be barefoot. You soon get used to this though as anything remotely religious has to be navigated bare foot, no exceptions. Even when the floor is covered in pigeon droppings and building rubble, dog shit, cat shit, and general debris you still have pad around the so called sacred ground as shoes are considered dirty. Certain places won’t even let you carry your own shoes into the temple. For a certain price someone will ‘look after them for you’ if you wish or just take your chances and flick them off at the entrance with the all the locals and hope nobody takes a shine to them while you’re inside. At the top of the hill we witnessed a beautiful deepest red sunset then raced down the hill to try and beat the dark to get our bikes which were at the bottom. We failed. It was further than we thought. We had no lights on the bikes and there were no street lamps. In fact the only objects that were illuminated were the many pagodas with their assortment of LED disco lights drapped around Buddha's neck and torso. Groovey Buddha!.

When Spandau Ballet saw this they instantly thought of a hit song.

By this late hour, now pitch black (it was only 6pm) Kathy had her first introduction to Burmese public toilets. It was a shocker. An old lady with no teeth ushered her into this dark back alley where she kindly informed her it would costs 200 kyat (about 10p). Off she went into the darkness and re-emerged a few minutes later describing the ‘toilet’ as pitch black with no lights , so had to leave the door wide open and there was a hole in the ground (which you could not see if there was someone else's poopy mess) while she squatted and said the whole tin shed type construction had an overpowering scent of shit. There was no bog roll, no water, but plenty of mosquitoes which she attained a rather splendid amount of bites all over her arse cheeks which bothered her for days. She asked if I wanted to go but I said I would ‘hold it’ until we got back to the hotel even if it took us another hour. The toothless woman went AWOL so we decided not to pay the fee and made a quick get away on the bikes like a couple of bank robbers on a heist. The ride back was a true adventure as we discovered that lights on any kind of road transport were totally optional and most people decided not to take this option. I was worried that something was going to plough into the pair of us at some point as the traffic became increasingly busy now it was rush hour but with a bit of luck we made it back unscathed.

My favourite sign in Burma so far.

After our scare with the cycles the day before we decided a motorbike would be safer next day so asked the hotel to supply us one. They had 2. One which had no brakes which they seemed to think was not an issue and one had no lights which they definitely thought was not an issue. I refused their kind offer but still needed a bike. They offered to get one from a rental shop. The first one that showed up was death on wheels and I would not even test ride it so the bemused owner took it away, Then another chap showed up with another pile of bolts with no front brake and the seat would not close but the lights worked. I mentioned the front brake did not work and he told me with half of his breakfast still hanging out of his lips that not to worry” just don’t use the front brake” and I will give you a discount. By this time the day was slipping away so we took the bike thinking this is as good as it gets. Of course there was no petrol in it so next we had a circus show at the petrol station where the seat would not open/close, so security came over and oiled it for us which was helpful but oil is not going to polish this bag of bolts so we just rode it with the seat perched on top. We reached our destination half an hour later which was U Bein bridge. Basically it’s is a rickety old bridge made of teak than spans the whole width of a seasonal lake. The bridge itself was uninspiring apart from the fact it is mega old and not rotted away. The highlight was crossing it and watching local life go by as normal. Farmers ploughing their fields with oxen and planks of wood with nails in it, fishermen beating the water with sticks and scaring the fish into their nets and monks strolling across asking all the shopkeepers for their rice donations so they could eat. After 3 hours we had enough of this and battled the traffic back to the hotel.

Angus Young was paying tribute to his brother on U Bein bridge.

After the shock at the condition of the motorcycles we decided it would be safer for us to get back on the cycles next day. We headed to an ancient wooden built pagoda that Lonely Planet billed as their number one sight in Mandalay. It was nice enough and peaceful after the hectic journey there where we ended up in the middle of a locals market somehow being buffeted around. The wood roof was ornate and worth a mention the the rest of it average as temples go. I think when the monks made us walk across a muddy field in our bare feet to get to the structure this may have tarnished our judgement. Next was the jade market which was around the corner but on arrival we were asked to pay parking charges for our bikes and foreigners were charged 2500 each to enter while everybody else went for free. We decided we were not that bothered about it after all as it seemed a bit of a scam towards tourists so went for lunch which consisted of a rather nice bakery that we found called Dumbos Cakes which made a mean pastry filled with what we think was chocolate but could have been fruit but for 20p each we didn’t care. That afternoon after avoiding the midday heat we headed to the skinny Buddha which is a huge gold leafed edifice in a park of similar type attractions such as reclining Buddha (we call him lazy Buddha) a large prayer bell which I had a go at ringing and various Buddha forms. This Buddha is significant for being skinny as it was when he fasted in solitude and would not take any offerings of food from the people so became skinny. Every other Buddha you are likely to see is rather chunky in stature so I guess the high calorific content of rice is perhaps not the best diet for a deity. After this it was off to see the biggest book in the world which was at another pagoda but halfway there we run out of steam and decided an afternoon beer station stop was more appropriate. After a nice half litre of draught Myanmar beer for 45p and more chips we called it a day and headed back to the hotel before the light fadedl.

Buddha asked if he could have a couple of our chips as he was famished.

Overall Mandalay was a good introduction to Burma as it was easy but it’s a massive city, with lots of traffic and pollution. We liked what we saw and the people (except for a barber that scammed us and ruffled Kathy’s feathers) so are keen to push on to see what this once forgotten kingdom has got in store for us. Next we get a boat to our next destination Bagan one of the new found wonders of the world.