Incredible Inle: Myanmar

Accommodation: Four Sisters Inn was a little gem off the beaten track, and right by the magnificent Inle Lake. Rooms around a garden were around $5- $6 for a simple single room, pretty basic. There is also breakfast with pancake and deals with boats, I paid around $10 for a trip around the lake and local fishing villages, although opted out of a few factories, hill tribe ogling within the package. Interesting dining spot sometimes with traditional music instruments. May need to book in advance, as it is a popular little spot.

Places to See: Of course Inle Lake in itself along with all of the surrounding fishing villages. Make sure to negotiate a good boat trip, as they would like to take you to factories and other places not specified on the itinerary on commission. You are looking at about $10-$15 for a half/ full day boat trip. Apart from this, you can also catch a free puppet show usually starts around 7pm. It is a donation-only basis, and definitely a good cause, keeping traditional arts alive in Burma. It is rather cold up in the north, especially around the lake so wrap up warm.

Getting to and from Inle Lake (Nyaungshwe or Heho Airport): Okay, there are two options: 1. In order to avoid giving money directly to 'state-funded' institutions, taking a bus is the most 'spectacular' way of getting here, as well as a sure-fine way of getting majorly ill. The minibus from Bagan costs around $10 (11,000 Kyats) and you spend 12 hours of hell cramped up on top of a wooden bench and blaring wind- as there is no car door. However, it really depends on how passionately you want to oppose the regime, sometimes you have to just invest in a flight. 2. If you could take the more expensive option, its about $60 one way to Heho airport, from which you need to take a taxi into the town. Four Sisters Inn have their own driver which you can tell in advance, however there is a fee for getting into town and taxis at the airport charge extortionate prices.

Transport: Well the name says it all. Inle Lake is best seen by boat, however the town itself is fairly small and easy to walk around. There is a main road that most of the side roads are connected to, using the standard grid system layout.

After quietly 'missing' my minibus to Inle Lake- aka I jumped on in a rush, realised I had forgotten most of my valuables and in a daze figured that this was on a road to hell - I took a flight the following day with guilty pangs and reached there within the hour. On the flight was a veteran traveller, a middle-aged American man, and also an established tour guide escorting a group of very stereotypical elderly Americans. 

He knew the country like the back of his palms, having already travelled around Myanmar 14 times, so a few tips were much needed. He spoke about the fact that this particular group didn't resemble anything like the previous groups in his heyday. Trekking through the mountainous regions of Inle was nothing like what he had planned for this group, attired in sweat pants, plimsoles and golf caps. Rather a nice relaxing tour, staying around the lake and enjoying the fresh air. However, I had a rather less fancy affair, and a cheap guesthouse was what I had in the cards. 

I reached Heho Airport finally realising I hadn't quite informed the hotel of when I was coming due to the problematic connections between the cities. So letting them know as I reached meant I had an hour or so to wait at the airport, in which time plenty of Burmese men and elderly Korean tourists came to ogle at the odd little Indian woman sitting with a giant orange rucksack and hoodie, listening to her MP3 player. Eventually, two congenial men approached stating that they here to take me to Four Sisters Inn, one being the other brother to the siblings. The conversation on the way, turned to family talk as he explained one of the four sisters was now abroad, married to German man. And the guesthouse certainly reflected the family feel when I was greeted by 3 generations of Inle heritage.

After sufficiently settling in, I headed out to the lush lake in a traditional canoe boat fully equipped with motor (otherwise it would have taken more than a day.) Whilst witnessing the mountainous marvel reflected in the opaque, still waters, we conveniently stopped midway in front of a local fisherman. The process included a large net, a punting stick and a hardy man dunking these into the water in order to retrieve a variety of speckled fish. And though it was all part of the Inle itinerary, it was a wonderful sight to behold, and just the beginning of the fishing journey. Further down the line came the villages and the smiling children playing upon petite boats and houses floating upon the lake. Customarily, I was lead to a factory, but one that it unusually produced material goods out of lotus flower fibres.

I took the opportunity to feed my curiousity, so I dabbled around to see how these wonderful scarves, bags and other material goods were made. I also refused to fall for any touristic exploits and quickly headed to a point beside the lake in order to breathe in the breathtaking view. And although the Inle itinerary consisted of a fair few commissioned locations, I opted out of ogling hill tribes and taking in any more factories, certain that I would not spend any more of my last few dollars. Instead, whizzing back and having the cool, refreshing spray from the opaque lake was much more to my taste and to my sanity (having slept and hour out of 24).

 










The hotel was welcoming, specifically the bed and as my head drifted off to dream world, I planned my next trip to a traditional puppet show, a dying art in Myanmar. A spot of light dinner, and I was on my way at 7pm to catch a show in half an hour. The Aung Puppet Show is definitely worth a mention. As I sat with the puppet master drinking tea, he explained as he pointed to a picture of an elderly chap, that his grandfather was a legendary puppet master. Three generations had been taught the fine art of puppetry,but unfortunately he exclaimed, "Children just want to watch TV now, and so we struggle to entertain." I nodded in agreement, as I sat alone on the audience bench. The master ushered to people outside to join his donation-based theatre, but alas, their reluctance was seen on the face and so they managed to flee.

What they missed was a chance to meet Burmese at its best and at its original. All the wooden marionettes featured in the show were carefully crafted by Aung, the master who also sadly has to moonlight in other services in order to keep his puppet show alive. He explained that thanks to the Government, traditional arts are still continued due to their nationalistic patriotism by nature. And so, he attends an annual nationwide puppet competition, keeping him on top of his game. His travelling family were established in Yangon and Bagan, when the show was at its pinnacle, lead by Grandfather Aung. But over the years, it had considerably grown smaller in size, hence being placed on a side street in a quiet little town. It made me even more passionate to see it, and so I eagerly awaited to be doused in culture.

My favourite puppet resembled a small Pinocchio-like marionette that was created to play football, and so it had almost 20-30 different strings being controlled at one point. The puppet master's hands slightly visible from the top, was moving at lightening speed, delicately moving each one to produce an almost human-like movement. I was enlightened that's for sure. However, being stupid enough to 'miss' my minibus meant I had the most limited time in Inle, and so I was off like a shot in the early dawn. But not before watching the wonderful sun rise of the beautiful Inle.

Breathtaking Bagan: Burma/Myanmar

Accommodation: If you choose to take the bus to Bagan and arrive at 3am, then it may be an idea to take the hotels on commission by the horse and cart (H and C) drivers who come to pick up travellers at that time. If shared, you can find better deals. The bus will stop at Nyaung U, and you will be able to find something easily. Eden Motel was a favourite with the LP, ranging from $5 to $10.

Places to see: The 4,000 temples of Bagan. Not all of course, but Old Bagan hosts the most spectacular shrines. Though Dhammayangyi Pahto (Central Plain) a colossal red brick temple and Ananda Pahto (Northern Plain) are the finest preserved temples. Best is to watch the sun rise and set over the wonderous city. Also catch a glimpse of the traditional Burmese markets.

Getting to and from Bagan: The cheapest and most non-exploitative mode of transport to Bagan is via bus for about $10-$15, 12 hours. You will need to keep your passport at hand when entering into Bagan, to buy an entrance ticket for the UNESCO site- even at three in the morning.

Transport: When travelling around the wonders that is Bagan, the best options is to either share a H and C (seems to be the national transport) for about K10,000 ($9 for the day). But if you're a bit more nature-friendly, than bicycles are available all round for less than a dollar a day.

Strolling into Bagan at 3am, earlier than expected was a surprise for SE Asian timing standards. It was as comfortable as a bus should be, again unexpected for the apparently 'backwards' Burmese. On the ready were what seemed to be chariot drivers waiting in the dawn light; but ended up being H and C drivers, a little less spectacular than my imagination. However, they were the kindest, most sincere people; and we were welcomed by their presence as we approached in the dark.

 Obviously rewarded with a miniscule commission, we were ushered into a hotel nearby the station. Although, at that time of night I didn't really mind, as I appreciated any more sleep possible especially with a 8am morning start. The plan was to trek through the boundless plains of Bagan, exploring its endless streams of ancient temples. So geared with the LP Bible, a water bottle as well as a digital camera, off we set, sleepy-eyed through the dusty tracks via H and C. The driver, a young man with a huge amount of knowledge drove us through Nyaung U, Old Bagan as well as the Central Plains, capturing the best of the 4,000 shrines still standing in Bagan today. Though I am less convinced, according to local know-how, in reality there were approximately 40,000 Buddhist temples for the King before numerous amounts of natural disasters wiped them off the face of Myanmar.

Despite the numerous disasters that occurred in this country, standing in awe of history seemed to wash away those thoughts and feelings. The red  brick structures were scattered throughout the city as if all that existed within these realms were the calm, meditative Buddha statues found hidden inside each of the temples. It was tranquil and sincere, with very few tourists ready to turn into a consumer venture.

 

Although there were local souvenir vendors at each temple, it seemed to be an honest living and I got to talking with a one of the sellers. I was curious to why the vendor had selected the most uninspiring spot at the temple, almost impossible to sell any of his wonderful handmade canvas paintings. I discovered that he was allocated there, and was unable to move anywhere else for consumer purposes earning a living- another perk to having a military regime rule a country. Unhappy with his situation, he quietly ushered me to a corner to speak about the general misery faced by local people. Definitely an enlightening conversation.

Alongside my travel buddies, a young Korean woman with ounces of travel knowledge and a hilarious Thai hotel manager, who was duped several times into buying pointless souvenirs; we took hundreds of snaps (mainly of the posing Thai man), but none that could actually capture the splendour. By the time the sun decided to make a quick get-away, we had visited over 12 temples, and we were officially 'templed out.' But not before catching a glimpse of it disappearing into the Bagan plains, from one of the highest temple points. The city glowed and basqued in the warm red sun, leaving only a sillouhette of the 4,000 temples. And though at this point, all the tourists began emerging from their hiding spots to do the same, it took nothing away from the vista.

The next morning consisted of the wonderful smells of the local market place in Nyaung U. From vegetables to local attire, the markets hosted a bountiful amount of Burmese booty. It was the smiles that made me buy something and not the general pushing and shoving. After a full day of templing, I decided to take it slower today, and after about half an hour, I spotted a little internet cafe cleverly disguised as a 7/11. The late afternoon sun was enough to make me drowsy-eyed, but instead I hopped on the back of a bicycle and repeated the day before. The night time was one that I literally forgot after several drinks, hence missing my 5am minibus of hell to Inle Lake. It was fate.

Untouchable Utopia: Yangon, Myanmar

Accommodation:
Motherland Inn 2- Free pickup from airport, able to book buses/flights, currency exchange from dollars; fan, shared bathroom- $13 was $10 at the time. Dorm rooms also available for $8

Places to See: Shwedagon Pagoda can be seen via taxi for $2-$5 or you could attempt to walk however you may need a map, Bogyoke Aung San Market, People's Square Park, not to mention her (Aung San's house)

Getting to and from Yangon: From Bangkok, via AirAsia from £40

Transport: Walkable mostly, otherwise taxis are relatively cheap

Well, I finally made it to the solo leg of my trip aka venturing through the relatively untouched lands of Myanmar/ Burma via Bangkok. So I was constantly warned about a militant government, censorship and general guerrilla behaviour; I took it in my stride to prove that there was more to this small country. As I watched the desolate earth from the plane, I noticed hundreds of glimmering pagodas outlining the horizon, one in particular was the Shwedagon Pagoda- Myanmar's largest Buddhist Temple. The sun reflected into several directions, bouncing off the gold leafed structures as we (several other travellers) finally touched ground level. Out to meet us were several happy staff members from Motherland Inn 2, ready to whisk away a group of tourists in a rather broken down minivan. Thoughts of Mongolia started creeping in, but thankfully the journey lasted half an hour and not 16 hours.

Eventually I made it to the happy haven of Motherland Inn, greeted by a group of smiling faces painted with their traditional wooden sun screen. Everything was conveniently arranged within half an hour. A room, money exhange, buses, flights (however much I protested against it) and further accommodation on the way back despite all evidence to the contrary by various news mediums. Yangon already seemed to be a welcoming, congenial town- but I guess it wasn't them however we were worried about. After a 3 hour nap from a relatively early start, I ventured off through the dusty streets of Myanmar, getting customarily lost in 10 minutes. But this wasn't Vietnam, and there seemed to be less charm to foreign tourists by the local authorities. Surrounded by armed military, certain areas throughout the city were closed off, and an abrupt foot soldier halted us immediately as we realised we had taken a wrong turn.

He ushered us towards the right direction of the pagodas, located centrally. I think being foreign still had its perks even in an authoritarian oppressive country such as Myanmar. So first encounter with the military, and phew we had made it completely intact. On our way, it was unexpected to see a mishmash of several faiths and cultures. If it wasn't monks trailing along the pavements, there were mosques, churches and various other religious areas. The people resembled both South Asians and Eastern people, including wearing their traditional attires. They smiled and contently gestured as we walked for miled on end through Yangon.

The Lonely Planet map was quietly deceptive, and what should have been a 20 minute walk ended up with us roaming around for an hour or so, still without reaching our final destination. The spot we were so desperately trying to head to apparently had amazing night views of city, including of the mammoth sized Shwedagon Pagoda. I say 'night' views, because we were well shot of the dusky sunset by the time we had arrived. Succumbing to a taxi ride wasn't in the itinerary, but with our desperately lacking sense of direction, it was essential.

It was the first glimpse of Myanmar's ambivalent circumstances, as I gazed upon the glittering pagoda from what seemed to be a foreign five star restaurant, on top of a skyscraper. Confused? So was I. It took literally one beer to head out of the location, too befuddled by what I had experienced. I kept my feet firmly on the ground, as we went in search of the next destination- something that supposedly resembled a local Burmese bar. Having kept schtum about it being by birthday the entire time, I finally blurted out that it was- which seemed even a better reason to have a drink and celebrate. Despite all our wanderings about, we were officially lost and starving by this point. So what was local Burmese cuisine? It truly reflected the cultural mixed heritages that had grown to live in the country. Bordering Bangladesh, India, as well as China, the food was an amalgamation of all countries surrounding the lands.

The first meal was unforgettable. It resembled my days of entering the local fooderies in Kolkata, except this was Yangon. For a mere $2, out came a thali (large steel plate) with oodles of different kinds of curries, vegetables, rice, lentils- did I mention the free refills? Satisfied like I had died and gone to heaven, we were still determined to make our way for a drink. And what did we see to our disbelief? An Irish Pub carefully placed under the drinks section of the Lonely Planet. That was absolutely where we heading to next. So it's safe to say, I spent my 23rd birthday in an Irish Pub in Myanmar. Awesome. Though it wasn't as grimy as we would have imagined. Clearly the local Burmese have a rather upmarket view of what an Irish pub entails.

After being sufficiently hungover I headed to Bagan the next day. However, a week later or so, I returned for one day to Yangon in order to truly experience the goliath pagoda. Shwedagon consists of 88 mini golden temples in its construct, not to mention hundreds of Buddha statues and followers aimlessly roaming around the giant complex. My eyes are still blinded by the sheer amount of gold paint used on the temples that's for sure.