Standing at the top of a Burmese Pagoda; the temple it’s self would’ve been amazing just on it’s own, but was surrounded by 2000 plus iterations of it with just as much detail, and without a person to be seen for miles; the hunger in my stomach, the worrying of all the things that needed to line up for the rest of this trip, the pain from the bloody wound down my arm from a crash that morning, all sort of seemed to vanish. The only thing in my mind was a line from an Italian guy earlier:

“This is some serious Indiana Jones sh*t.”

Bunny Hoping

The day before I’d left Yangon(Rangoon) on a flight bound for the airport on the outskirts of Bagan. The flight bunny hopped mid way at Heho airport outside of Inle Lake, a town I eventually had to make it too, to pick up more passengers before setting off again. After barely two hours after leaving Yangon, the flight descended down and we could start to make out the Temples dotted across the pseudo desert. I’ve had a lot of landings in life, some really good, some really bad, but this was one that will stick out in my mind for all of the right reasons. Stepping off of the plane barely off the run way in this rural airport, the sky changed from blue to a colour of bright orange from a combination of dust and smoke from the surrounding burning farm lands and the dying hour of sunlight that was left.

Walking through the airport, which seemed smaller than even most rural train stations back home, they carted our bags in, calling out each persons name one by one. After collecting my bags, I paid the $20 US  region entrance fee, grabbed a cab and headed off into Bagan.

Temple Hoping

Waking up the next morning to the sounds of chanting, I got set for a busy day. I had to shuffle my days around due to some last minute issues that came up, and had to make the most of my one full day in Bagan.

The hotel I stayed at served a breakfast on their roof which overlooked the area. I got talking to a man from the south of France, mainly because he was the only westerner there. The three years prior to leaving Canada I’d spent in Montreal, and so it was surprisingly relaxing to speak french, probably mostly because it was familiar at one point, and I was a long way from familiar at that moment. We went on trading advice on what to see in Myanmar as we were heading in opposite directions.

I finished my coffee, the Frenchman finished his cigarette, and we parted ways; It was time to start the day.

Heading down the road, I managed to rent an Electric Scooter. When I was first told “eScooter”, I thought I’d get a little put-put that did 30 kph tops. Not the case; I took it on to the main road, opened her up and was suddenly pushing 70 kph, keeping up with motorcycles. Flanked on either end by motorbikes and overloaded trucks, it was an exercise in forward thinking and caution. If you want a good idea of what it’s like, I highly recommend the episode from Top Gear on it.

Coming out of the resort area, the tree’s cleared out and then suddenly pagoda after pagoda, temple after temple started flying past.

You’ve probably seen pictures of Bagan, they’re usually the cover of most Myanmar tourist books or blogs; it’s usually a picture at dawn or dusk of temples with hot air balloons floating over. In my opinion it’s likely the largest attraction in the country, and with 2,700 temples scattered throughout the area, it’s barely a question as to why. That said, most of the larger temples along the main roads were filled with tour buses and the groups of people selling trinkets and souvenirs, postcards and “authentic this-and-that”.

With so much space though and with so many Temples , it’s not hard to get away from being chased for the 7th time to buy a set of the same postcards; all it takes are a handful of random turns down some random dirt roads and you could find your self at massive temples that are centuries old, and be the only one there.

Going off the beaten track though leads to a maze of dirt roads which often enough lead to no where. After long enough, they all would sort of just dissipate at a bush or a field … or a flock of sheep. I followed a road down until it dissipated at a temple nestled in between some trees. Climbing through the tiny little doorways and corridors I got to the top and took a breather for some water and the view at the top.

 Poolside hoping.

After a solid day, and an unfortunate bail on the bike into some dirt that left one of my arms torn up a bit, I figured it was best to start taking it slower. I realized also I hadn’t eaten since breakfast and the sun was starting to really beat down on me.

After grabbing a meal of fresh naan bread with a handful of dips, I spent the rest of the afternoon reading by the pool at the hotel and watching a movie inside. Why was I watching a movie instead of site seeing, because heat stroke is a very real thing friends and I was spent. I had also seriously gotten my fill through the morning and early afternoon. and truthfully enough….it had been almost a week of backpacker hostels and the idea of having a pool and cable TV was too enticing.

After a few hours of living the high life, I hopped back on the scooter and flew back out to the planes to catch the sunset, … as did me and every other person in the region apparently. Finding a large yet crowded temple, I climbed the stairs up. I got talking to a few people while up there, a set of Burmese kids were joking about how tall I was, a handful of French and Spanish were saying how it was like the UN on the top with all the different accents and languages being spoken, I ended up talking to a guy from Shanghai whose English name was ‘Mars’. It was a an awesome collection of people at the top.

After the sunset, the temple cleared out as it started to get dark quick; and I still had a half hour ride back to the hotel (Again, I’ll turn your attention to the Top Gear episode if you’d like to know what it’s like driving through the dark on a Burmese road).

With both the notion of getting back as quick as possible in what light was left, with also the wrapped up strip of missing skin on my forearm reminding me of the importance to not become a “tourist-on-a-bike” statistic, I was pulling out every bit of defensive and aggressive driving I knew.

If the failing light wasn’t enough, headlights as well as which side of the road was the proper one, were somewhat of an after thought for most other people. I was getting constantly over taken by motorbikes, all at the same time while having to constantly overtake slow trucks and watch for motorbikes with an entire families on them.

After what was definitely longer than 30 minutes, I finally pulled into the rental shop in the pitch dark. That was enough excitement for one day. An easy dinner and a beer and that was Bagan in the books for me.

The next morning I was greeted again by the sound of chanting. Packing my bags, and eating a quick breakfast, I had one last chat with the french man from the day before. Again, I finished my coffee, he finished his cigarette, we shake hands, wish each other a bon voyage and a pleasant trip, and I was off again. Next stop, Mandalay.

As always, you can find the rest of the pictures over at  .