After spending the night at Burger King's Kuala Lumpur International Airport branch, and nearly missing my flight despite being at the airport ten hours early (all my fault), I landed in Yangon, Myanmar. Coming from Kathmandu--where monkeys have been spotted snatching human food at the gates, and a leopard near the runway once delayed flights--I was impressed with Yangon's clean, modern, high tech terminal building. My taxi into town was on smooth pavement with flowers lining the roads, as opposed to the bumpy, dusty thoroughfares of Kathmandu the day before. The sun was hot, but I had to remind myself this is the weather I was dreaming of while sleeping in freezing temps up in the Himalayas. As I took in the city, something seemed a bit different, and then it clicked--no motorbikes are allowed in the city (except post, utility, and police workers), a very odd ban for an Asian city. The threat of three years in jail keep any would be offenders at bay.
They drive on the right here, but...steering wheels are on the right hand side. This is due to a change after British rule ended, but of course the steering wheels didn't change overnight with it. To further complicate the matter, all imports starting with 2017 will be left hand steered.
A few months back on my final night in Phnom Penh, I happened upon an excellent Burmese restaurant. The flavors were so unique, refreshing, and rewarding, I couldn't wait to try the "real thing."
Well upon my arrival in Yangon, the food scene at first wasn't all that I had hoped for. Street food was mostly buffets of all matter of dishes, cheap and frequented by locals, but cold food, especially meat, that was cooked who knows how long ago, did not catch my interest. One recommended local restaurant turned out to offer the same thing--old, cold, buffet food. I had to get some ice cream afterwards to satisfy my stomach at least a little bit.
Things got a bit better though, as a wonderful family ran the new hostel I was at. In addition to travel tips for getting around the city and country, each morning they served up a different local homemade breakfast. These were typically noodle or rice dishes, with peas, nuts, or veggies, and all were very good. When asked for a restaurant recommendation, they pointed us to a teahouse that was packed with patrons. A tea leaf salad and chicken salad were phenomenal. I've found that tea leaf salad is a pretty safe bet when nothing else looks good. Others had good luck with a sushi spot down the road where I had three pretty good rolls for $4. And I tried another local place that served up hot and tasty dishes. So we'll see what the rest of the country has in store in terms of food...
Otherwise Yangon was an interesting place to take in. Expats said in the last four years they've lived here, all the skyscrapers, malls, and modern building we now see have gone up. Taxis didn't rip me off and I was treated more with curiosity and friendliness and less like a walking wallet. Other travellers felt the same, and those finishing the country found it to be among the safest and most welcoming in southeast Asia.
My first night in town happened to be the final day of Tazaungdaing festival, a Buddhist full moon celebration marking the end of rainy season. My hostel owner's sons took us out, first to a street displaying hundreds of cartoons (which are standard in most publications) to explain a few. Others needed no translation. Common themes were supporting the military, peace, and social media.
From there we hit a 1km stretch of main street--part carnival, part market, full of smells, colors, sights, and sounds.
The food on offer was mostly pots of hot oil with everything from crabs to animal parts thrown in and fried. There was live music and classic ring toss and balloon pop carnival games, which even monks took a shot at.
And then there was a ferris wheel, one of the crazier things I've seen. It was no Singapore Flyer or London Eye, but a smaller one meant for hauling between festivals. I noticed something different as I gazed up. This ferris wheel was human powered. Workers (teenagers in flip flops) would scramble up the frame like monkeys, then following whistle signals move to one side, shifting their weight to start rotation. They would hang off of the cars and drop off at the right time to get this thing going so fast that riders were screaming with delight. I mostly stood there as a spectator in disbelief.
Festivals are big here, they are almost continuous for nine months out of the year. It's always interesting to come across them while travelling to see how the locals celebrate.
One morning I did like a Yangon local and caught the "circle train," the choice way of getting literally around the city on the cheap. I boarded the 6:17am for $0.15 and didn't see another foreigner for the rest of the morning.
The scenery was not spectacular, though the northern part of the route briefly dipped into countryside. More than anything, the appeal here is a glance at daily life. Vendors hopped on and off, selling everything from baked pastries and cell phone top up credit to newspapers and potted flowers. The big seller was a betel vine leaf with lime paste, filled with areca nut and tobacco, then rolled up; each one goes for about $0.04. The vendor would whip these up as locals ordered bags of five. Burmese love to chew these with the tell tale sign being juicy red smiles that reveal rotten, stained teeth. Red spit stains are seen on streets and sidewalks everywhere.
I stuck it out for the full three hour loop, though that got a bit long.
Shwedagon Pagoda is a Burmese Buddhist pilgrammage site, and may be the city's best known site, and best visited at sunset. It's golden spire is apparent from all over town, but up close it impressed even more. Hundreds of golden Buddha's are backed by colorful flashing lights once the sun went down. Around the main pagodas are eight Buddha's, one for each of the eight days of the week (there's a Wednesday morning and Wednesday evening). Worshippers pour water over the Buddha from the day they were born.
After an enjoyable visit exploring Bagan, I skipped the 5 hour bus ride in favor of a 12 hour cruise up the Irrawaddy River to Mandalay. I set my expectations a bit low, not knowing exactly what I'd get. I shared a taxi to the jetty with three others from my hostel where we were ushered through the darkness to our boat. Friendly crew welcomed us aboard and we dumped our bags downstairs in a clean air con room with spacious seats, then headed upstairs to the top deck to wait for others to board. The horn blew and off we set--eight crew and just six passengers. Who knew I'd be getting a private cruise! I later learned the downstream journey is much more common (30-40 passengers, capacity 85) so the boat has to head back north regardless, passengers or not.
The crisp morning air with stars overhead was delightful, and all eyes were glued east to the faint shades of purple that slowly changed as we approached sunrise.
At sunrise we were served a simple breakfast and a look backward revealed the faint balloons going up over Bagan. We passed traditional villages, local boats, a few other cruises, and lots of fishing. An empty boat meant we could spread out and catch naps in the AC. Weather was pleasant up top for the whole way, great for sightseeing and reading. Last week they ran aground a sandbar, but we made good time without issue.
An hour outside of Mandalay, the sun headed down as we passed hillsides covered in golden temples.
We docked in Mandalay just after sundown. This was a wonderful journey with no one exceptional thing about it, but just a peaceful, relaxing day on the Irrawaddy for both sunrise and sunset.
From Mandalay, I tried another slow, scenic journey. The 4am train from Mandalay to Hsipaw is known to be a scenic 10 hour stretch. The $3 upper class tickets were sold out so I hung with locals on plastic seats with my $1.25 ordinary class ticket.
We crawled along, rocking side to side, gaining elevation by switchbacks, with workers manually working the switches and road crossing gates. The open windows let in a pleasant breeze, but we clipped by close brush which created a flurry of leaves and flowers, and whipping branches to watch out for. There were great views along the way with one part in particular that made the route famous: the Gokteik Viaduct.
One more long stretch was a 14 hour night bus from Hsipaw to Inle Lake. I had two seats to myself so I caught a series of short naps. Not quite a full night of sleep, but better than expected for sitting down that long.
I really enjoyed my six days around Nyaung Shwe, the gateway to Inle Lake. One day we hired a boat to take us around the lake where we could see stilted houses and monasteries, floating vegetable gardens, local markets, and the fishermen who row with one leg.
Cooler temps made for pleasant cycling through villages and around the lake, and a relaxing background for reading. There were plenty of great restaurants for breaks in between that erased any doubts of if Burmese cuisine can be any good. It most definitely can. Popular local ingredients in these parts include tomatoes, avocados, peanuts, and sesame seeds which make for a variety of refreshing salads.
One place in particular was a few miles outside of town run by a friendly couple whose upper deck offered great views of the lake and was surrounded by a vast garden below. I asked how much of what they cooked with, was grown in their own garden? "Everything except cauliflower."
And I could walk without being hassled (too much) for my my business. This may sound simple, but it really is different from other places I've been. For that among many reasons, Myanmar has been a wonderful country to explore.
They drive on the right here, but...steering wheels are on the right hand side. This is due to a change after British rule ended, but of course the steering wheels didn't change overnight with it. To further complicate the matter, all imports starting with 2017 will be left hand steered.
A few months back on my final night in Phnom Penh, I happened upon an excellent Burmese restaurant. The flavors were so unique, refreshing, and rewarding, I couldn't wait to try the "real thing."
Well upon my arrival in Yangon, the food scene at first wasn't all that I had hoped for. Street food was mostly buffets of all matter of dishes, cheap and frequented by locals, but cold food, especially meat, that was cooked who knows how long ago, did not catch my interest. One recommended local restaurant turned out to offer the same thing--old, cold, buffet food. I had to get some ice cream afterwards to satisfy my stomach at least a little bit.
Things got a bit better though, as a wonderful family ran the new hostel I was at. In addition to travel tips for getting around the city and country, each morning they served up a different local homemade breakfast. These were typically noodle or rice dishes, with peas, nuts, or veggies, and all were very good. When asked for a restaurant recommendation, they pointed us to a teahouse that was packed with patrons. A tea leaf salad and chicken salad were phenomenal. I've found that tea leaf salad is a pretty safe bet when nothing else looks good. Others had good luck with a sushi spot down the road where I had three pretty good rolls for $4. And I tried another local place that served up hot and tasty dishes. So we'll see what the rest of the country has in store in terms of food...
Otherwise Yangon was an interesting place to take in. Expats said in the last four years they've lived here, all the skyscrapers, malls, and modern building we now see have gone up. Taxis didn't rip me off and I was treated more with curiosity and friendliness and less like a walking wallet. Other travellers felt the same, and those finishing the country found it to be among the safest and most welcoming in southeast Asia.
My first night in town happened to be the final day of Tazaungdaing festival, a Buddhist full moon celebration marking the end of rainy season. My hostel owner's sons took us out, first to a street displaying hundreds of cartoons (which are standard in most publications) to explain a few. Others needed no translation. Common themes were supporting the military, peace, and social media.
From there we hit a 1km stretch of main street--part carnival, part market, full of smells, colors, sights, and sounds.
The food on offer was mostly pots of hot oil with everything from crabs to animal parts thrown in and fried. There was live music and classic ring toss and balloon pop carnival games, which even monks took a shot at.
And then there was a ferris wheel, one of the crazier things I've seen. It was no Singapore Flyer or London Eye, but a smaller one meant for hauling between festivals. I noticed something different as I gazed up. This ferris wheel was human powered. Workers (teenagers in flip flops) would scramble up the frame like monkeys, then following whistle signals move to one side, shifting their weight to start rotation. They would hang off of the cars and drop off at the right time to get this thing going so fast that riders were screaming with delight. I mostly stood there as a spectator in disbelief.
Festivals are big here, they are almost continuous for nine months out of the year. It's always interesting to come across them while travelling to see how the locals celebrate.
One morning I did like a Yangon local and caught the "circle train," the choice way of getting literally around the city on the cheap. I boarded the 6:17am for $0.15 and didn't see another foreigner for the rest of the morning.
The scenery was not spectacular, though the northern part of the route briefly dipped into countryside. More than anything, the appeal here is a glance at daily life. Vendors hopped on and off, selling everything from baked pastries and cell phone top up credit to newspapers and potted flowers. The big seller was a betel vine leaf with lime paste, filled with areca nut and tobacco, then rolled up; each one goes for about $0.04. The vendor would whip these up as locals ordered bags of five. Burmese love to chew these with the tell tale sign being juicy red smiles that reveal rotten, stained teeth. Red spit stains are seen on streets and sidewalks everywhere.
I stuck it out for the full three hour loop, though that got a bit long.
Shwedagon Pagoda is a Burmese Buddhist pilgrammage site, and may be the city's best known site, and best visited at sunset. It's golden spire is apparent from all over town, but up close it impressed even more. Hundreds of golden Buddha's are backed by colorful flashing lights once the sun went down. Around the main pagodas are eight Buddha's, one for each of the eight days of the week (there's a Wednesday morning and Wednesday evening). Worshippers pour water over the Buddha from the day they were born.
After an enjoyable visit exploring Bagan, I skipped the 5 hour bus ride in favor of a 12 hour cruise up the Irrawaddy River to Mandalay. I set my expectations a bit low, not knowing exactly what I'd get. I shared a taxi to the jetty with three others from my hostel where we were ushered through the darkness to our boat. Friendly crew welcomed us aboard and we dumped our bags downstairs in a clean air con room with spacious seats, then headed upstairs to the top deck to wait for others to board. The horn blew and off we set--eight crew and just six passengers. Who knew I'd be getting a private cruise! I later learned the downstream journey is much more common (30-40 passengers, capacity 85) so the boat has to head back north regardless, passengers or not.
The crisp morning air with stars overhead was delightful, and all eyes were glued east to the faint shades of purple that slowly changed as we approached sunrise.
At sunrise we were served a simple breakfast and a look backward revealed the faint balloons going up over Bagan. We passed traditional villages, local boats, a few other cruises, and lots of fishing. An empty boat meant we could spread out and catch naps in the AC. Weather was pleasant up top for the whole way, great for sightseeing and reading. Last week they ran aground a sandbar, but we made good time without issue.
An hour outside of Mandalay, the sun headed down as we passed hillsides covered in golden temples.
We docked in Mandalay just after sundown. This was a wonderful journey with no one exceptional thing about it, but just a peaceful, relaxing day on the Irrawaddy for both sunrise and sunset.
From Mandalay, I tried another slow, scenic journey. The 4am train from Mandalay to Hsipaw is known to be a scenic 10 hour stretch. The $3 upper class tickets were sold out so I hung with locals on plastic seats with my $1.25 ordinary class ticket.
We crawled along, rocking side to side, gaining elevation by switchbacks, with workers manually working the switches and road crossing gates. The open windows let in a pleasant breeze, but we clipped by close brush which created a flurry of leaves and flowers, and whipping branches to watch out for. There were great views along the way with one part in particular that made the route famous: the Gokteik Viaduct.
One more long stretch was a 14 hour night bus from Hsipaw to Inle Lake. I had two seats to myself so I caught a series of short naps. Not quite a full night of sleep, but better than expected for sitting down that long.
I really enjoyed my six days around Nyaung Shwe, the gateway to Inle Lake. One day we hired a boat to take us around the lake where we could see stilted houses and monasteries, floating vegetable gardens, local markets, and the fishermen who row with one leg.
Cooler temps made for pleasant cycling through villages and around the lake, and a relaxing background for reading. There were plenty of great restaurants for breaks in between that erased any doubts of if Burmese cuisine can be any good. It most definitely can. Popular local ingredients in these parts include tomatoes, avocados, peanuts, and sesame seeds which make for a variety of refreshing salads.
One place in particular was a few miles outside of town run by a friendly couple whose upper deck offered great views of the lake and was surrounded by a vast garden below. I asked how much of what they cooked with, was grown in their own garden? "Everything except cauliflower."
