Beautiful Bagan

The loudspeaker crackled for the last time "Bagan! Bagan!" the bus assistant called. What relief to have arrived after yet another sleepless night spent twisting and contorting our bodies within the confines of our rigid chairs on our 'luxury' bus. It was 5am, we'd arrived half an hour earlier than expected after a 14 hour journey from Yangon. S.K our tour guide for the day stood outside the 6 seater van with a beaming smile, speaking too fast for anyone to process at that time in the morning when we could barely keep our eyes open. But he shrugged off our moans and took us to his bustling local hot spot. We sat down and shared out the hot chai that was in a flask on our table, dipping the fried bread (similar to Spanish churros) into the milky liquid. The much needed sugar rush hit us pretty fast as we snuggled comfortably into our many layers on that unexpectedly cold winter morning. S.K drove us down windy dirt roads and past huge, ancient ruins that we could barely see until the car eventually came to a stop and the high beams lit up the side of a huge pagoda that stood in front of us, still hidden by the darkness. With the lights from our phones we clambered up the pitch black staircase, feeling the cold walls around us and ducking our heads under low ceilings until we emerged onto the flat roof to watch the sun rise across the mysterious landscape.

Slowly, the dawn began to reveal the tips of hundreds of pagodas that stretched as far as the eye could see. The blanket of mist added to the scenes spiritual air and we gazed in amazement at its ethereal beauty. I took off a layer and got my temperature rising with the sun, flowing into a sequence of sun salutations and feeling overwhelmed by the extraordinary landscape that was unfolding in front of us. As though natures conductor had waved his hands, a cloud of hot air balloons began rising in the distance. Starting as a solid, dark clump and separating with grace, the balloons floated above the pagodas stupas, higher and higher still. The dark purples were shifting fast now to pinks and light blues. Nights blanket had almost dispersed and the warmth was bringing Bagan to life. 

We spent the day with S.K visiting old pagodas, Buddhist temples and monasteries... at one point we wandered into an old, wooden Burmese house with Balinese architecture; Eerie wooden door frames that resembled grand mirrors were placed around the room and in the middle, stood an old rocking horse covered by a thin layer of dust thats particles held old secrets... outside, the village children could be heard laughing and running around, absorbed by each others youthful energy and so un-jaded by the stresses of life.

That night in the comfort of our cushy hotel, just as we were dropping off to sleep, Burma belly struck. My brow furrowed with helplessness as I listened to poor J's painful retches that began at 3am and went on until 7..  In the room down the corridor, mum and J were feeling it too and in-between trips to the toilet, everyone cursed the deep fried samosas we'd eaten that morning.. I took a deep breath,  held onto my tummy and hoped for the best...
For whatever reason, dad and I were alright and being a vegetarian suddenly felt like a blessing. We had breakfast that morning (at a very empty table), dosed everyone up on ORS' and stomach spasm pills and left them to rest and recover before the big hike that was scheduled for the following day. 

But someone had to do Bagan some justice, so dad and I (later joined by mum) went on an off-road biking adventure to explore a few hidden gems. It was tough getting the grip of it as my fists clenched the handle bars and the wheels skidded nervously on the sand.. and even tougher trying not to scream as I attempted to inconspicuously pee behind a bush and realised I was actually on top of a huge ant nest...
But we set a gentle pace and weaved in between pagodas, avoiding the ones crawling with tourists. Before long, the sun was wavering in the sky and dusk was arriving. We found a pagoda that resembled a rusty layer cake, parked our bikes and scrambled up to the highest point we could reach to watch the day melt away behind another hundred stupas. I closed by eyes, hoping J & J were feeling ok back at the hotel and opened them just in time to see a deep red wave wash across the sky. From dawn to dusk, we'd truly soaked up Bagan's beauty and were ready for our next stop: Kalaw.

New years escapades: Yangon

Magical Myanmar, a country rich with history, culture and beauty. My family, J and I are just getting back into the grind of life after having a dose of Asianspiration on our amazing New Years adventure. It's been on the bucket list for a while and we needed to tick it off before it's authenticity and innocence gets carried away with masses of tourists.. during our travels on bumpy bus rides, bamboo mats and beside the seaside I wrote a few blogs that I've just gotten round to typing up.. so may these next five words rewind the clock... 

We awoke bright and early on boxing day, slightly hungover and delirious from christmas days festivities. I joined in with the routine complaints that echoed through the house due to lack of sleep and dads cheery tone... at 6am. But everyones mood soon transformed when talk of the next few weeks of adventure filled the air... we were finally going to Burma :). First stop: Yangon. 

Dad's work colleague M had kindly offered up her house for us to stay in while she was away; we arrived in the evening after a short 2.5 hour flight from KL, hot and sweaty from all the moving around. We heaved our luggage out of the taxi, thanked the driver, tried to stuff everything into the tiny elevator and slotted ourselves into the remaining space. Nothing moved, ugh we'd exceeded the maximum weight limit.

It took a few rearrangements but gravity finally fell and the doors opened up onto the 13th floor, where the drones of a buddhist temple could be heard echoing down the hallway. It was a sound that brought a grin to everyone's face having just come from Kuala Lumpur, where the mosque is the usual background music (should anyone have forgotten their own tunes). Everyone was exhausted, so we had a quiet one and J & I became a little more informed about the brutal military regime that had gripped Myanmar for so long: https://www.youtube.com/watchv=2Xcexd802ck - it was shocking realising what had taken place around us just a few years ago.

The tick of the clock slowed down ... 24 hours later, no one emerged particularly amused. We wandered around with bloodshot eyes from lack of sleep and jaws hanging in amazement at how long the incredibly monotonous chanting had been going. So we left the apartment and the droning behind to venture into the city, with half a day to explore Yangon before the long over-night bus ride to Bagan. 

The day started with a breakfast stop at a local noodle soup shop; my grin faded fast as the strong odour of fish seeped out of everyone's bowl and I realised, being a vegetarian that I was going to have to bite my tongue for a lot of this trip. But it wasn't too tough, I got my fill on the way to the site of the day: Yangon's famous 'Shewedagon Pagoda': the largest Pagoda in Burma. Covered head to toe in gold leaf, the golden stupa had the most blinding effect when it reflected the midday sun. At the very top, was a magnificent diamond encrusted umbrella crown/ 'Hti' on top of which a 76 carat (15g) diamond sits, believed to attract the attention of good spirits. We circled its magnificence, clockwise as the buddhist tradition goes, blessing our individual 'days' with holy water that was provided in silver cups below the statues. A lot of traditions in Myanmar still border on animism and we were told that many people don't have last names but are instead categorised according to their day of birth. Based on the beliefs of Indian astrology, each day (except Wednesday that was split into 2) had its own shrine and animal around the golden pagoda that represented one of eight different planets. I squinted at the digital calendar on my samsung screen, attempting to flick back through the years to find out what days we were all born on. As we walked we took turns, blessing our days of birth with the hundreds of Burmese tourists that were doing the same. 

For lunch, we treated ourselves and ended up at 'The Rangoon Tea House'; an amazing fusion of old meets new, serving the most exquisite Burmese food. The smells of pennywort salads, pork curries, fish sambal and chilli chocolate made everyones mouths water. The cuisine was a beautiful mix between Burma's bordering countries: India/ Thailand/ China and Bangladesh. What an indulgence it was (little did we know that our next visit a few weeks later would give everyone a nasty bought of food poisoning...)

But ignorance is bliss and it had set us up well for the last of the days activities spent in Yangon's little back streets full of old, colonial remnants and the odd open air barber shop; in little makeshift bookstalls on the border of the pavements Aung san suu kyi's face was proudly represented on hundreds of books and calendars. We stepped carefully and weaved between market stalls full of colourful sarongs, smelly fish and old antiques... bargaining down the Ray-ban man who insisted his product was "best quality! Not made in China!". 
Time was ticking fast now and the day was almost over. We hopped in a taxi and drove back to the apartment to get our luggage, feeling Yangon's gentle energy despite the busy day. 

And before long, we were settling into our reclining chairs on the JJ express (JJ= Joyous Journeys :p ) pleasantly surprised by inception that was playing on the screens in front of us (albeit barely audible above the deafening crackles of the loudspeaker as the driver cluelessly messed around with the switches). Sleeping pills & blankets at the ready for a long and freezing ride to our next stop: Bhagan.

Recipe of the Day: Pennywort Salad
http://www.messyvegetariancook.com/vegan-burmese-pennywort-salad-myin-kwa-ywet-thoke/