Bagan World Heritage on the Road to Mandalay

Bagan
09/08/09

On the road to Mandalay,
Where the flyin'-fishes play,
An' the dawn comes up like thunder outer China 'crost the Bay!
R. Kipling

Everyone we have met has a smile for us, and the locals are a cheerful bunch. Yesterday's rains haven't dampened any spirts, we're ready for some real adventure.

Up before the sun, a quick breakfast ordered up from the kitchen last night. Just like in the old days, the butler delivered it and set it up in the room.

We had to hit the road at 5 am to get to the airport in time for our flight to Bagan, which is now leaving about 45 minutes early. There are two short hop planes in the fleet, and they rotate from town to town, and are worked pretty heavily. The monsoon followed us, and began to dump water on us as we transferred from the terminal to a loading bus, and even more as we ran from the bus to the plane stairs. Once on board, not too bad. Nice turboprop jobs, with an in flight mini-meal. And this is only about an hour's flight. Oh, the good ole days.

The weather changed from monsoon to nice and sunny (and hot, with a capitol H) Bagan is a semi-arid place, and it's nice and dry while there's a full on monsoon in Rangoon a few hundred miles downstream.

Upon arrival we had our temperatures taken to see if we were carriers for the new avian flu. Test accuracy somewhat doubtful as the technician measured the temperature of Augie's hearing aid.

Since luggage was being taken care of we hopped onto our new bus (a relative term, it actually has a carburetor) and headed out for our days adventures. Within a minute of leaving the airport we were in a World Heritage Site -- the land of Pagodas. Now we are seeing the country.

Excitement when the first one came in view, then the next, next, next, ..... when will they ever stop? The place is covered with them. In every condition from ruin to extraordinary. A few minutes later we pull up to our first pagoda.

The pagodas were built from about the 10th through the 13th century (not counting modern restorations) as more or less offerings to the Buddha. They are a mix of temples and stupas (monuments,) and some have been in continuous use as temples for 800 years.

Climbing up for a better view, the view turns out to be extraordinary. Descriptions and photographs don't do it justice. The view's stunning and eerie at the same time. Colors constantly changing with the light and time of day. This is truly one of those places you have to experience for yourself.

Many ooos and ahhhs later, and a bit of haggling for souvenirs, we took off to the local farmers' market. The market is a colorful, busy, chaotic place, a mixture of a true farmer's food market and fixed stalls selling house wares, clothing, and just about everything needed to supply a home.

Word quickly spread that Gringos were in town. Within seconds we were mobbed by vendors selling books (Burmese Days -- Orwell), combs, carvings, and whatnot. Friendly but pushy, they won't take no for an answer, and have their faces and goods plastered on the bus windows as the bus drives off.

Augie bought a wraparound dress worn by most of the local men. It's a quick cover-up because shorts, the most comfortable way to dress, are not permitted in temples. A t-shirt for the quilt project was also picked up.

The tourist business is slow this time of year and most of the tourists that are here are from Spain. Europeans are not big spenders, and the locals are hurting for business. In their minds Americans have fat wallets and soft hearts (heads), and are seen as easy marks for a fast talking souvenir hustler. Overall the Burmese are happy people, so haggling is mostly fun, but they do need to make a sale to eat, so they try hard to close the sale.

Most of our group are experienced travelers, so this is fairly ho-hum, but it is entertaining and does connect you with the locals and gives you some actual interaction. This is always a relief from looking at old buildings.

With our vendors in tow, we make it back into the bus, and head off for hotel check-in and lunch.

After lunch we motor to the area's largest pagoda. Well, it is big. We're running out of superlatives here, there' just so much superlative stuff. This one's a monster, and vaguely familar with its Stalin Wedding Cake look, but this one was around half a millenium before Stalin.

It's also the starting point for our late afternoon horse carriage ride. Clip clop, off we go for a round of pagoda watching. Our tour winds through a local village of dirt streets (nothing special there, most around here are) and we whip smartly past a lowly ox cart with our horn blasting. Round and round in a cloud of dust, pagodas to the left of us, pagodas to the right of us, pagodas just about everywhere.

A last bumpy turn onto a small dirt road leads us to, you guessed it, a pagoda, and out of the buggy. Dump the sandals, and climb the dark tunnel stairs up to the pagoda's main walkway. Another breathtaking sight. Our guide Johnny has taken our small group to a pagoda of our own so we can watch the sunset. An adjacent pagoda seems to have the rest of the local tourist population on it waiting for the sunset, and a vaguely ant-y appearance.

We are surrounded by pagodas and stupas(a monument built over a buried Buddha statue, presumably to help you remember where you put it) that are changing in color as the sun sinks behind the clouds and mountains. It is amazingly beautiful and dramatic with color gradations and shadow movement that keep you enthralled. It is one of those sights that you must actually see to really appreciate.

With the sun finally gone, we head off for the hotel and dinner.