You’ll Find a God In Every Golden Temple

And if you’re lucky than the god’s a she. (Ok, so that song is about Bangkok and this post is about Bagan, but just go with it.)

So, after spending some time in Inle Lake, we boarded another luxury bus to Bagan. We were sure to request a seat at the front of the bus to reduce the amount of jostling around. Since this wasn’t an overnight bus, we had the pleasure of daylight to give us a better glimpse into the countryside of Myanmar. We’d go for miles and miles and see nothing but green foliage and then all of a sudden a little village would pop up out of nowhere. Getting from Inle to Bagan requires going downhill on a steep mountainside, so most of these villages were indented on the mountain.

We also saw a lot of the Myanmar youth putting on parades for their favorite political party choice. They would get a bunch of people to stand up in the backs of open trucks and bang cymbals or beat a drum, proudly cheering for their chosen candidate. Knowing the history of Myanmar and the upcoming elections, I was excitedly hopeful for these people.

At around 7pm, we arrived to a very wet and rainy Bagan. Again there were many taxi drivers awaiting our arrival. They literally crowd around the bus doors and a cacaphony of Where you go?s ensues. We picked a guy and he quoted us 15,000 kyat (~$12 USD) to get to our hotel. We assumed that because of the higher price that we had about a 45 minute drive ahead of us. But we got to our hotel in just about the amount of time you’ll spend reading this article (5 minutes). We were duped. And since we already agreed to the price beforehand, we had to pay… but not before we shamed him into conning us. It put a little sour taste in our mouths as our first impression of Bagan: not because of the actual money, but because of the dishonesty.

We went to check in at the Royal Bagan Hotel and was met with a sourpuss of a front desk lady. Not to mention that she was completely scatterbrained during the twenty minutes it took her to check us in. As we had grown accustomed to exceptional hospitality in Myanmar, Shiv went to book our travel out of Bagan to Mandalay. There’s a slow boat you can take for ~$40 USD. He arranged it with her and the tickets would be available for sale the next day. However, when we checked the weather we saw that it was going to rain and maybe the boat idea wasn’t the best. We thought we had better switch our booking to (yet another) bus up to Mandalay. When Shiv asked the woman to help with the change, she completely refused to help him and made him call the boat agency to cancel himself. Thing is they didn’t speak any English and all Shiv could do was say ‘Cancel. Cancel. Cancel.’ She then was pissy through the process of booking us a bus ride (and I’ll get to more on that later). Strike 2, Bagan!

It was still raining by the time we finished dealing with the crabby appleton at the front desk and we hadn’t eaten dinner. No matter where we travel, Shiv and I always end up eating at an Indian food restaurant. They seem to be everywhere and we inevitably always get a hankerin’ for it, too. So yes, we dined Indian style at Aroma 2 restaurant.

We had high hopes of catching a Bagan sunrise the next day but the inclement weather obviously disagreed with us. So, we slept in and ventured out to the pagodas after breakfast. We had rented an e-bike to get there. In case you are wondering, an e-bike is the Prius of mopeds. Whisper quiet and no stinky smog (but also no power).

Bagan used to be called Pagan, and was the capital of the Kingdom of Pagan.  Between the 11th and 13th centuries, the Kingdom’s height, over 10,000 pagodas, temples, and monasteries were built. Of those 10,000, over 2,200 remain today. Throughout the years, the pagodas have been renovated, but since Bagan sits upon an active earthquake zone – 400 recorded earthquakes in this century alone – they have often been damaged repeatedly . Some of the restorations that the government performed post-earthquake have further damaged the authenticity of the site, and Bagan is not listed as a UNESCO site because of this reason.

It was overcast and somewhat rainy when we left but what could we do? We hopped on the e-bike and quietly, oh so quietly, made our way to Old Bagan. It’s truly an explorer’s dream. You can take any side road and pick any temple and explore it. The architecture of the temples is intricate and handsome, especially the ones with lichens, moss and other signs of ‘untouchedness’ on the bricks. And in every temple, like the song, you’ll find a magnificent Buddha. My favorite is the Buddha in repose.

We made our way to the Shwesandow pagoda, a popular destination because of the stunning views you get once you reach the top.  It was difficult to actually get there because you had to wade through a sea of people wanting not just your attention, but your money, too. Young boys around the age of 12 would come up to us and ask, Where you from? After we said the United States, they would all answer O-bama! And then try to sell you something like a postcard or a book. And they didn’t take no thanks for an answer. If the young boys finally moved on, you would then have to deal with ladies coming up to you and trying to sell you pants, bracelets, or the famous lacquerware. Shiv and I just wanted to see the temples! So they tell you Later, later. And as you would come down, oh they’d remember you, and then bombard you with reasons why you should buy from them. It was disconcerting seeing the aggressive nature of these street-side hawkers. We might have bought some things from them, but high-pressure sales tactics are a huge turn-off for us. We just had to politely keep saying no thanks over and over and over again.

But yes, we did eventually make it to the top (shoes off of course). As far as the eye could see, pagodas peppered the plains. Really quite stunning just to see the sheer number of those red structures, engulfed by vibrant green landscapes. It made the journey through the gauntlet of Bagan souvenir peddlers worth it.

Our lunch break was at Weather Spoon’s and it was delicious. Ginger salad, tea leaf salad, and some Burmese curry goes down slick after a morning of temple explorations. I even treated myself to a cup of chai!

After lunch, it was back on the e-bike for more. We took some GoPro footage of us on the bike (video forthcoming). We randomly chose a modestly-sized temple where there weren’t any other tourists. We found that the larger and smaller temples tend to always be open, but the medium sized temples tended to be locked. You can ask a nearby local to open it up for you and you make a small donation to them for doing so. Our chosen medium-sized temple was indeed locked, but a very helpful seven year-old girl was willing to help (clearly, she had done this a few times). She opened it up for us and we took some photos. Her younger cousins soon joined us, including a toddler who loved slobbering on Shiv’s camera almost as much as he loved playing with his cigarette lighter ‘toy.’

Many of the temples are multiple stories, so we asked the girl if we could explore. She quickly grabbed her flashlight and walked us over to the stair tunnel. Slowly, mind your head is what she kept reminding us to do in her cute, squeaky voice. We scaled up the stairs, careful to watch for snakes (yes, they like to hide out in them temples), and made our way to the top to scan the views and take a picture together. We gave her some kyat as a tip and continued exploring.

At some point in our journey, Shiv took a wrong turn that led us into a little village. We were immediately bum rushed by six giddy kids, all curious to know where we were from and what our names were. The eldest of the group, two girls, really took a liking to me and me to them. They were fascinated by my skin tone and even reached out to touch my face (giggling afterwards). They also really, really liked my eyeliner and wanted to know if I had some to share. I didn’t unfortunately. I remember wanting to wear make-up at about that age and how cool it was when I finally did get to try. Shiv got some pictures in but it was getting late and we had to head back. The kids were too sweet, and it was reviving not to be fending off kids who had been taught to sell, sell, sell.

We headed back to the hotel to refresh and get ready for dinner. We ate at Bibo, which was essentially like eating a home-cooked Burmese meal. Deeeee-licious.

Mandalay

The next day we got up and got ready to board another luxury bus. Or what we thought was a luxury bus. But oh no, the curmudgeon at the front desk made sure she would have the final say. The OK Bus Express is, at best, almost OK. We boarded a 14-passenger bus that smelled like mildew and stinky feet. The seats were ripped and the window curtains were stained. No reclining seats and we were at the back of the bus, despite our request for the front. Shiv and I gave each other looks that said: this is going to be a looong bus ride. Had we not taken a luxury busses beforehand and had our expectations been properly set, I’m sure we would’ve felt differently about the bus, but that’s not what happened.

We settled in and the journey began. We whizzed and bounced along the narrow, tore up roads, some of them unpaved, for hours, all the while avoiding motorcyclists, oxen, and large groups of goats. About once every 30 minutes, I feared for my life. And then we just pulled over on the side of the road and sat there for 15 minutes before I realized what had happened: we had a flat tire.

The bus was unbearably hot and no one had any idea how long we’d be waiting for, so Shiv and I got out to stretch our bodies and grab some fresh air. But fresh air there was not. Wherever we were, it had to be the smelliest of all places on the face of this earth. I dry heaved several times. Yangon had nothing on this noisomeness! All I kept thinking was that there had to be a pile of decomposing stray dogs somewhere for it to smell that bad. In the words of Ludo from Labyrinth in the Bog of Eternal Stench, smell bad!

The tire was fixed and the stinkiest hour of my life concluded. Back on the bus and back to the usual: pit stops in the middle of nowhere, men spitting betelnut into plastic bags, and the bouncing of bodies to and fro. Six hours later, we reached Mandalay.

We had just one night here, and to be honest, that was plenty for us. We made plans to meet up with our friends Nick and Shannon for dinner as we happened to be in the city together. Shiv and I decided to walk the twenty minutes it took from our hotel to the restaurant.

Mandalay was hot, humid, and the smoggiest of all cities we had been in. Coughing our way down the streets, we strategically avoided the brown sludge of the gutters. The sidewalks, when there are any, are covered in blocks of concrete that have a 3 inch hole in the middle of them to collect rain. These concrete slabs cover the gutter below it. But most of the concrete slabs are broken, missing, or caved in, exposing the earlier stated brown sludge. It was through one of these holes that I spied a snake – yes I said snake – peering its head out. As I screamed and jumped backwards, it went back down the hole. I’m like Indiana Jones when it comes to snakes – I don’t like em!

Trauma over, we made it to 22 Target, our dinner spot. Friends Nick and Shannon joined us and we had great conversation exchanging experiences in Myanmar and giving tips (they were headed to Inle the next day). Shiv and I walked back, thankful that the rush-hour traffic and subsequent smog had settled down a bit. We found a little pub nearby our hotel and sipped some cool Myanmar beers. And then got bit by some mosquitos… time to turn in for bed!

While we had a rough start to Bagan, we really did love visiting the temples and eating the food. Did you know it gets the same amount of visitors as Cambodia’s Angkor Wat? I can see why. Mandalay was our least favorite city in Myanmar, but we chalked it up to the fact that we didn’t have time to properly explore it. It would be like if you only went to the Tenderloin in San Francisco. Your opinion probably wouldn’t be very high, right? That’s what we are guessing it was like with Mandalay. I will say this – the taxi ride to the Mandalay airport was outfitted with Louis Vuitton upholstery. #baller