Many wondered, “Myanmar? You mean, Burma? Why?” Wonder no longer.
With Big Brother tracking our every comedic and futile attempt to get online and ominous red and white printed billboards posted as “subtle” reminders to conform we start our explorations of a country and a people that silently struggle to encourage tourism and strive to set right any and all misnomers about their magical country.
Let’s start with Yangon International Airport. An eerily empty replica of any contemporary, western port patiently waiting, like the people, for the bustle of busy travelers. Though the pace is still sleepy we were met with demanding immigration paperwork… would they let us in? Waiting for us on the other side is Yin Nyo Tim (Nyo)… though we don’t yet know it, Nyo is surely Myanmar’s Ambassador. She must have written 101 Things to Know about Myanmar and more…. from Buddha to the gentle and generous culture to history and the challenges of today’s government.
You want to explore Myanmar… she’s THE guide! Gently and assertively she leaves no moment un-filled, stupa un-explored and mode of transportation un-tried.
Bagan—as the early morning rays burn away at the eerie layer of haze leftover from the damp night, slowly thousands of alluring terra cotta stupas unveil themselves to the unsuspecting travelers. You feel removed from yourself as you watch more of these magical monuments rise up from the mist. I felt like Lara Croft as I climbed one of the larger structures to get a better view. (Shut up, I know I’m no Angelina and I’m in the wrong country… Work with me! Haha, just wait till I hit Cambodia. Silver suits, long braids and bad ass motor vehicles… Mum’s laughing.)
Chismo, this one’s for you. It was a three-sport day!
“There is nothing more spectacular than watching a perfect sun rise over fields of pagodas in the crisp winter air.” That is how the brochure read—well something to that effect—for Balloons Over Bagan. What a ride. 5:00 am wake-up, 40 min drive to barren field, early morning tea and biscuits as we were briefed on the safety measures and procedures for our British made Balloons. All aboard (or whatever they say for hot air balloons) and we floated up, up and away.
8:45 am and safe on the ground we grab a quick bite back at the hotel before going around Bagan with the all knowing Nyo—adding to our already eventful day. As the clock hits 11:00 we’re back at The Sanctuary for our very own Top Chef moment. As we prepared our 4 Course Burmese Menu not only was the hotel’s head chef there to guide us but 4 of his kitchen hands and sous-chefs decided ours was a comedic act not worth missing. Mum might have won the award for “best colour” with her Butter Fish Curry but I took the award for “flavour” in the fresh Roselli Sour Soup. I wonder what Padma would say…
With our bellies full we were ready for an afternoon of Pagodas and plenty of history. Which Nyo—as always—was keen to deliver on! In fact, before parting ways, as we were on time constraints, Nyo enthusiastically asked if we had it in us to squeeze “just one more in!” Pagoda and Stupa count well past a thousand we were ready to unwind and reflect on the day’s activities with our Master Monk. Do not touch the monk, speak unless spoken to or point your feet in his direction. My take was, sit down, don’t move, shut up and breathe. One-hour meditation, NOT easy to do. I was a massive fail. Nearly screamed and ran for the hills. I would have, had the lower half of my body not become completely numb. I moved and noted the move… then moved again. Mum was rock solid and didn’t budge the entire time. In fact, she was addressed by the monk himself—a proud moment—he even gave her a compliment, apparently she is a “deep meditator.” Well done young grasshopper. No eye contact or comments for me other than a small head nod, I think it was a disapproving one too. I’ll keep practicing. Perhaps I’ll start with a civilized and simple 15 minute meditation.
What a day! Did we make you proud Chismo?
xx
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