Myanmar. In Myanmar there are many dogs. Possibly a zillion. They lurk about, lying in the streets, wandering up and down, fighting over food (occasionally), and generally just doing dog stuff.
This is a place unlike any other I have visited.
We landed in Mandalay, which is in the North of the country. Our plans were to spend three days visiting the must-sees, and thence to Nyaung Shwe and the mighty Inle Lake, followed by Bagan, land of Pagodas, and presumably, a million Buddhas. And finally, back to Mandalay, and onto our connecting flight through Bangkok to KL.
Mandalay is not what I expected. Although, I???m not really sure what I expected. The city is a huge, dirty, sprawling affair. Very hot, as South East Asian cities with lots of concrete tend to be.
People have very little, which is a shame. It seems a terrible thing that such a vibrant culture should have been oppressed for so long. Perhaps change is in the wind. Certainly, something is in the wind ??? there is a strong whiff of it at street level.
And this is odd. Here, they drive on the right hand side of the road, like in America. And yet, all the cars are right hand drive. It???s weird.
Oh, and the driving is something to behold. Cars pass each other with barely millimeters to spare.
The rule seems to be that whoever occupies a portion of the road at a particular time has right of way. And then, that section need not necessarily be on the side of the road that one has come to expect.
The Myanmar people employ a special form of protective magic known as the hooter. Motorcycles, lorries, busses, dogs and people weave in and out, dancing to the tune of 1000 car horns. It???s a wonder no-one gets hurt. The magic of the hooter is indeed strong.
The Brits left no real legacy, save correctly written road signs. Pity, at least where the French left their footprints, there is good coffee to be had. Oh well, the beer is cheap. Perhaps the Brits did leave something good after all.
And so, on to Nyaung Shwe. Having consulted all the options, we decided to hire a car and a driver for the 900-ish km round trip.
We???d barely left Mandalay when our driver managed to run over a dog on the highway. A zillion minus one. Apparently the hooter magic doesn???t work for dogs. Bumper is toast, and the driver is suitably remorseful.
Anyway, we got to Nyaung Shwe in one piece, and that???s where we are now. Second day, sitting in a small hotel? after a day of doing very little. There was a visit to the local wine farm, and a trip to a temple-type thing near the entrance to the lake. We???ve been without electricity for a while. Cell phone towers are clearly affected by the power outage as much as anybody else is. I saw hotel staff pouring petrol from old water bottles into a generator, so hopefully??? oh, there we go. We have lights.
Nyaung Shwe is cold. Northern hemisphere in winter, and all that. Apparently the temperature in the evenings is 18celcius. So not that cold by some standards. But a good 12-17 degrees lower than we???re used to. Had to buy a tracksuit top.
Tomorrow we hit the lake.
Fast forward to Sunday >>
The lake was good. Cold on the water, especially with the wind from the boat.
From a photographic point of view it was difficult. The sun is very very bright. And for most of the time the light was coming into the lens.
Bulletins from the interior + notes on the traveller economy
I can???t call the local population Burmese, coz they ain???t anymore. I asked our driver what the preferred collective noun was, and got no hearer to the truth. I have trouble accepting ???Myanmar People,??? because I can???t believe the English language hasn???t invented something appropriate. For god???s sake, LOL was recently accepted into the Oxford Dictionary. If we can put a man on the moon, then, by golly, we can find this illusive descriptor.
Nyaung Shwe is a quaint little town with very little going on. Imagine a seaside village in a place where no-one speaks English, and your Myanmartian is a little rusty. Bingo. You have my point.
Despite this, it???s a groovy place to hang out. You cannot understand my delight when I saw it – a sign, rising out of the distance like a mirage ??????Fire Baked Pizza.??? Yep. And home made tagliatelli. And gnocchi.
And just down the road, a place that made humus, and some kind of kebab things. And veggie wraps. Quite something.
We left the lake behind us and headed West towards Bagan. 7 hours and a square bum later, we entered the outskirts of this 11th century extravaganza of stupas, pagodas and hubris that had led to the downfall of a king, and along with him, a city.
Bagan is nothing short of a magical place. King Anawratha built 13 000 (by some estimations) structures when he was the man, and about 2200 survive to this day, notwithstanding various wars, bandits and an earthquake in the 70s.
It???s truly amazing. One feels like one is driving through an ancient landscape worthy of the poetry of Shelley. Pagodas and stupas are everywhere.
Today we did a bit of a tour. The touristy spots are no good. Full of people milling about aimlessly, vendors trying to sell you dodgy trinkets, tee-shirt vendors, men chewing betel nut and yes, you guessed it, dogs. We got our driver to deposit us in the middle of nowhere and went walkabout. Getting off the beaten track allowed us to explore some of the less visited pagodas. Good scene.
I took 540-ish photographs. I think 3 may be good. I have posted a few for your amusement. Also some videos of last night???s dinner performances at the hotel.
The traveller economy
Before we left for Myanmar we changed some of our dodgy Malaysian banana money into dollars, thinking that this would be useful in emergencies. After all, who doesn???t want dollars? Right? Well, here???s the thing. Being the clever bugger that I am, I asked the money changer to exchange the crisp hundreds he???d handed me for some smaller denominations, so as not to scare anyone. He gave me various old twenties. Turns out, in Myanmar they???re particularly picky. At the airport they rejected all of our bills for being too creased, too wrinkled, too spotty, etc. And so it went. Until now we???ve only managed to palm half the dollars off onto unsuspecting Myanmartians. Like three-day old cold pizza, no-one wants them.
On another note, it???s quite expensive here. And despite my diatribe above, many prices are actually quoted in dollars. Be prepared to pay for everything. Visits to temples in the Mandalay region cost 10-25 dollars a pop. You wanna take a photo ??? that???s another charge. Cross the river ??? again, fork out the dosh. I think at one point I farted and the ticketing guy ran up to collect his dues.
