The plan was to wake up early and buy last minute tickets on the only daily bus to Sittwe. It leaves Yangon at 8AM.
As my alarm starts to go off early in the morning, I reach over and shit it off. Back to sleep.
It’s a and hour and half later. “It’s 7:30,” says Cindy. At this point we have no way to make the 8AM bus. She climbs into my bed and I cuddle her.
We begin to pack up slowly and eat the free hostel breakfast. I’m pissed we missed the bus. I can only blame myself so I keep it inside and try to forget about it.
It’s a 30 min walk to the bus ticketing area or a 5000 kyat taxi ride. So we start to walk. The area is nothing but small shops who buy their tickets from someone else. No one is particularly helpful.
We decide to leave and just go the people they are calling. While waiting for a public transit bus we caught a shared taxing or 1000 kyat each.
We are sick Yangon. We’ve been here for, I don’t know, three days. Most of which have been spent stuck inside a hostel without power because of rain. To venture outside means going to their New Year celebration. Essentially a free pass to dump ice cold water on anyone.
We take the first ticket on the next bus out of Yangon. That’s how we ended up in Bagon at 4am.
We’ve been dropped off way outside the town stuck at the mercy of Taxi drivers with inflated prices. We split a cab with some American girls visiting from Thailand. We found a home and began the trek to the pagodas. As we walk the sun rises over the horizon.
We walk to the first pagoda to take a rest. Some children walking through the bush come over to join. They’re friendly. They ask us where we are from and then pull out their collection.
They collect foreign currency. They asked me if I had any from the US. I did, but I told them no. They flipped through all the bills listing the countries as they went. Then they were fishing through various coins they had. A few they didn’t know so they asked us. I didn’t know either.
I wanted to give them something. They actually seem like legit currency collectors, minus that part about wanting US dollars. So Cindy and I give them a Taiwanese dollar. They unimpressed. We leave.
After walking to the next pagoda another child approaches. “Hello, where are you from? I collect foreign currency.” And then he begins to start listing off the countries just like the last kid. I can’t help but start laughing. I tell him I don’t have any US money before he even asks. Then I tell him to go away.
It’s been a few hours since we started walking. We’ve made it to the old city. There is a sign that says river view. We decide to walk to the river instead of go inside.
The road to the river is dusty and long in the heat. As we reach it’s terminus we discover a bench in the shade of tree over looking the river. I lay down on the bench with Cindy on top of me.
A few hours later we wake up from the nap. We take our time actually leaving the bench to start the walk back to the old city. As we entered we realize it’s too hot to continue. Cindy sticks her thumb out to hitch a ride back to the city.
After five minutes a car pulls over and offers us a ride back to to town. We learn that the woman is from Burma but lives in Singapore. She accompanied by two male family members. They took pity on us for walking in the heat.
It was 3 P.M. when we got back to the hotel. As we walk in we practically fall onto the beds. Passed out.
It’s 6AM now I’ve just woke up. We decide to get a bus out of here. All the buses to Inle Lake are sold out. SO we pick one up for Mandalay. Neither of us wanted to be in Bagan anymore. The bus is another overnight bus. We are to stay in Bagan for the day again.
Today we rent a scooter and ride it from pagoda to pagoda. It’s the ideal way to see them. Walking was a horrible idea. I have to say my favorite part is riding on the small dirt tracts between them. You see one pagoda you’ve seen them all. The real view of the place is from the top of the few you can still climb on.
From Mandalay we take an early morning train straight to Hsipaw.