A wet and dreary December, with no sign of a beautiful cold, crisp, sunny, winter day in site; my bags were packed and a hot dry climate for Christmas was calling... and so to Magical Myanmar we go!
Our adventure started on the 19th December and, to my surprise (given the small population of Christians in Myanmar), the city of Yangon was very much in full flow to the Christmas spirit with a multitude of flashing lights and illuminated trees in hotel lobbies, churchyards and street shops. Alongside this nostalgic Christmas feeling, I was filled with anticipation; as a child my mother had lived in Burma and I was to be the first of my family to return, following in some of the footsteps of my grandparents 75 years before me.
We were headed for a full-on Myanmar experience from start to finish! Having landed in a sea of warm air and stripped down to t-shirts and cotton trousers, we headed out for our first taste of Myanmar food. Being sandwiched between China, Thailand and India, the Burmese menus often have a very wide variety of dishes. On this, our first dining occasion, we were treated to a Shan feast extravaganza washed down with the finest local bottled Myanmar beer!
Our next day saw us taking to the streets in earnest, seeking out hidden side streets crammed full of chattering women with faces painted with thanaka (a local natural form of sun cream) selling herbs, fish and vegetables set out in large heaps on the floor. We weaved our way through markets piled high with mountains of lungis, underwear and toys and smelt the intense aromas of various spices and incense. Then, contrary to this mayhem, we arrived seconds later in front of huge serene colonial buildings which, although due to the rigours of tropical decay are now looking forlorn and unloved, still evoke an air of splendour and grandeur. We headed away from the Yangon River to end our day with the sun setting at the Shewdagon Pagoda; a great and glorious monument of Buddhist faith, which still remains the heart of Yangon – a lovely ending to our first day.
In the morning we headed north to Kalaw. The Christmas tone was never-ending – even the inside of the plane had been decorated with tinsel in keeping with the festive spirit! We landed in Heho and were whisked away in our small mini purple minibus, passing through farming land and bumping along dirt roads, stopping on the way to see caves with 1000s of golden Buddhas and hilltop views looking down onto clusters of white stupas resembling small peaked meringues.
Kalaw was a favoured hill station in colonial times with a large bustling market. Once settled into our new home, we headed for the infamous and somewhere to be experienced ‘Hi Bar’ – a tiny cabin sized bar, with a handful of wizened men; a place where you can experience a local ‘rum sour’ whilst listening to the dulcet tones of musicians singing local Burmese folk songs with a lone guitar.
Feeling sufficiently full of food, rum sours and having sung our hearts out, we decided to call it a day. Walking back to the hotel we discovered that our tuneful evening had not quite ended, for it was nearing Christmas Eve and, to our utter surprise, carol singers were roaming the streets, singing a little out of key but entertaining nonetheless!
The next day we woke up to yet another cloudless beautiful morning and today was our elephant day! We were to meet and mingle with elephants who have “hung up their boots” from the timber trade and have been given a well deserved retirement home. Crossing a very rickety bridge to our group of five hungry customers, we were given mammoth size baskets of chopped pumpkin and banana stems – the latter of which was not always so gratefully received by an elderly matriarch, who showed her disgust by ungainly spitting any unwanted stems on the ground! Slightly later we donned our local fisherman pants and waded into some decidedly cold water, where we pampered our previously fussy eater with a good scrub down in the river! Having been utterly spoilt by my years of living in Africa, this experience still left me in awe of these beautiful creatures, which are so undeniably wise and wonderful.
Early mornings are without doubt in my mind the best part of any day – misty valleys slowly clearing as the sun rises and anything from beetles and bugs to bus drivers starting out on their daily chores. Our three hour walk took us through fields of white sesame and mustard and past hedgerows full of large yellow daisies and bougainvillea. Every now and again we would come across a cluster of stupas glistening white and gold with their pointed hats looking almost like something out of a fairytale. We arrived at a small village known for its local weaving and, as we approached, we were immediately beckoned into a house to sit and have a cup of tea. Feeling refreshed we continued on our way shortly afterwards – we had a train to catch!
Local trains in Myanmar are slow to say the least; it's difficult to place an age on them, but they could have easily carried my grandparents! However, the rhythmic rattle and hum of the train provides a rather meditative way of travelling and, although the supersized velvet chairs had also seen better days, they were of enormous comfort and luxury. Unfortunately the slowness of our locomotive meant we had to cut our journey short and reconvene with our trusted steed 'the purple beast' (our bus) in order to reach Inle Lake in time to catch our next form of transport before the sun set.
Inle Lake, a place where – in parts – time seems to have stood still. We woke up at dawn and left our stilted home to explore the neighbouring villages. As we sped through the water on our long boats we passed children having their early morning washes and women going about daily chores of washing, we saw blacksmiths making beautiful brass Buddhists bells, boat makers carving and planing wood, silversmiths creating the most delicate filigree jewellery with pieces almost too small for the naked eye, women using the most delicate of flowers to create beautiful umbrellas of all sizes and ladies making cheroots with a multitude of different flavours!
The following day was Christmas Day! Donning our Christmas hats we headed for the village of Indein and a place where the local Pa-Oh tribe sell their wares, which is home to a large collection of 17th century pagodas, most of which have succumbed to nature with the ivy winding its way into nooks and crevasses, bizarrely creating a rather mystical air as you walk amongst these once golden-leafed stupas.
Another magical sunset, this time in local canoes, with men in conical straw hats standing on the prows and curling their right legs around their oars, rowing with a gondolier's corkscrew motion moving along the river, allowing us to silently weave our way amongst the lilies and the water hyacinths and watch fishermen slapping water to scare the fish into their traps of great conical bamboo baskets. Moments to relish and remember as we would soon be leaving this wondrous lake to continue the next half of our journey.
With the mist rising off the water and the sun just waking up, we left our stilted haven for the shore and to reacquaint ourselves with our 20 seater purple beast. Kakku was our first stop, with its 2,500 or so pagodas which just seemed to spring out of nowhere. We were heading further north to Mandalay, but not before stopping off to sample some of Myanmar’s finest wine! A steep winding road through deep valleys led us to Ayethayar Vineyard; surrounded by far reaching views of rows of grapevines and sitting on a balcony drinking Sauvignon Blanc created a more than slightly surreal atmosphere!
“Mandalay”. The mere mention of the word conjures up notions of old world charm and historical intrigue. The association is a logical one: it was Myanmar’s last royal city after the surrounding areas of Amarapura, Sagaing and Inwa in the centuries before. It seems this remarkable region plays host to numerous sites of interest which also hold world records! Here we spent a few wonderful days walking to see the world’s largest book and taking horse and carts around the ancient city of Ava seeing magnificent monasteries. We drove in our purple beast to wander in and around the world's tallest Buddha and climbed what felt like a thousand steps to reach pagodas on the tops of high hills with sweeping views and ended a perfect day, drifting in boats whilst the sun set watching silhouettes of people travelling across the world's oldest and longest bridge – the infamous U Bein Bridge.
Our journey took us from Mandalay, through to Monywa and finally by boat to Bagan. We arrived here in style in the setting sun, sipping rum sours whilst being expertly steered towards the shores of old Bagan on the Irrawaddy River.
We spent a whirlwind two days from sunup to sundown visiting cavernous hallways, beautiful gilded complexes, ancient meditation caves and the most delicate and intricate of paintings and frescoes lining the walls and ceilings of the hundreds of temples and stupas; all of which shifted and changed in the setting sun, allowing for perfect sunset panoramas each night.
A new day, a new dawn and a new year – 2017 had arrived. Our adventure had come to an end and it was time to turn our thoughts to snowdrops, crocuses and daffodils – it was time to go home.
Tour leader Antonia Morris led the Christmas departure of our Road to Mandalay group tour, which has various departures throughout the year.
