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.