We got unloaded onto Bagan at an ungodly time of 4am, right smack into a desperate swarm of taxi drivers. Sleepy eyed and freezing (yes we were once again under-dressed for the early morning 15°C chill), we found our groggy way through the throng of aggressive touts to collect our backpacks, and shuffled away from the chaos towards a closed shop front to gather our wits.
Armed with a dog-eared piece of paper that only listed our potential accommodations, and not reservations, our only option seemed to be to wait till the hotels opened. After rejecting a series of “where you go?”, “new bagan? old bangan?”, and “hotel reservation?”, we were finally persuaded by a kindly young chap to consider his offer. Zayzay was his name, and he proposed that since we had no reservations as yet, he could take us on a horse cart to a tea house for breakfast, and then to a pagoda to catch the sunrise view. We accepted it, and were soon piled onto a cosy cart pulled by a big bottomed lady horse named Marsut.
We traversed through the dark, silent streets towards the tea house, with nothing around us but the occasional street light and Marsut’s consistent clop clop clop. The shuttered shops that flanked the empty roads were still shrouded in the morning mist, and I half expected to see the silhouette of a cowboy form in the distance, with his head bowed low and his hand by his side, ready to draw his pistol.
After the forgettable breakfast, Marsut pulled off the tarmac and led us into the pitch black grounds of ancient Bagan. Dramatic scenes of robbery went through my head at this point, as Zayzay our carriage rider could have easily led us into a gang of hoodlums to ambush us since there wasn’t a soul in sight. But the surreal situation we found ourselves in transcended further thoughts of any potential danger. It was a spellbinding experience, getting pulled by an age-old mode of transport, passing shadowy figures of the pagodas, and enveloped in the stark silence under a night sky sprinkled with stars.
And here’s the magic that we witnessed… I bet even Indiana Jones would be jealous.
It has gotten quite bright at this point, and there were many doubtful remarks of “that’s it?” amongst the tourists. We soon spotted a few hot air balloons in the distance only just beginning to rise, and thought that they completely missed the gorgeous sunrise view.
Breathtaking in every sense, the little yolk chased away the greyness of the surrounding plains, revealing the land’s jaw dropping extensiveness. It stretched out into the horizon in all directions, and the tips of hundreds of tapered stupas started to take shape as the day broke. I’ve never seen anything like that, and fell in love with the whole romanticism of this time-worn site.
Things looked just as beautiful on ground level…
Now, one thing about winging your holiday as you go is the risk of “wasting time”. Marsut had to toil hard that morning to bring us to about 3 places before we found a suitable accommodation, but we did have a lovely sightseeing tour of both old and new Bagan during the search.
It was still only around 9am after we checked into our room (with a stinky toilet), so we headed out right away to make most the day before the blistering afternoon heat bogs us down. With our free tour guide (aka Ade), a 1000k (USD1) map, and a 8000k (USD8) geriatric electric bicycle each, we sped at the speed of light to one of the 2,000 temples that dot the vicinity.
It was also our first taste of a typical Burmese meal, especially of this area. Our lunch at “Golden Myanmar Myanmar Food” came in tasting-sized portions of grilled fish, chicken, veggies, pumpkin, different types of sauces and chillies, and curry (pork, chicken, and mutton). Some of it was greasy, some pretty acquired, but it was a grand experience all in all. And it only set us back 13,500k (USD14) all together.
At this point I found myself a little bit bored with the monotony of the temples, so I will also do away with identifying some of the less significant spots. Just riding amongst the pagodas was a wonderful experience in itself. To an uncultured derp like me, it really doesn’t matter which are the “important” temples because honestly, they all look the same after you’ve seen 2. But there’s no denying that all of them are gorgeous.
So here are more chio pictures of us frolicking around.
In this dry heat, covering up is the best solution. Since you hardly sweat, long sleeves and pants are really comfortable as they save your skin from sizzling.
Bagan Golden Palace was a tourist site that we weren’t too keen on; and since it had a USD5 entrance fee, we sent Ade, the best photographer amongst the three of us, in to survey the grounds. And these are her shots:
For dinner we headed to an oddly named restaurant recommended by our Lonely Planet guidebook. It’s called Be Kind to Animals, and it serves Indian and Mexican-ish type dishes. We had zatziki with popadum, chapati wrap with vegetables, tamarind curry, and a gaspatchio (the only thing I didn’t fancy), and the entire meal only cost 14,900k (USD16).
Then we rode back in the dark (the lack of electricity in this country is downright incredulous), and turned in super early.
Next morning, we scale Mount Popa just so we could mock other tourists’ photogenic poses.