Pagodas Galore

So thus it was that I staggered out of bed the next morning suffering from mild-to-medium food poisoning almost ready to face a CavTours Special. I figured I couldn't throw up any more and everything else seemed relatively stable (thanks for the detailed advice Dr. Gary!). We piled into our ancient six-seater taxi and rattled out of Yangon's main street heading north. It was after about 10 minutes when I realised that the fact that the vehicle didn't have much in the way of viable suspension any more and the periodic wafts of fish sauce factories, drains, and hydrocarbons meant that I might not make the trip without incident . . .

Before I detail our journey to the hinterland, I must document another aspect of our hectic first 24 hours in Myanmar yesterday. In the centre of Yangon lies the rather awesome Shwedagon Paya, an enormous golden bell-shaped pagoda that literally shimmers in the afternoon sun. No matter where you are, this artefact dominates the Yangon skyline (especially since the UN sanctions and the absences of foreign investments have inhibited the construction of skyscrapers and malls that are so prevalent in all the other emerging South East Asian cities). A $5 government-controlled entrance fee allows the visitor to enter the temple via a wide, ornate and graceful stairway lined with shops where the devotee can buy flowers, incense, Buddha statues, books and antiques. At the top one emerges into a marble plaza glittering with golden statues and the dominant towering pagoda bell. Walking barefoot on the hot tiles, clockwise around the pagoda, the visitor is attacked by a panoply of temple architectures venerating spirits, astrological planets, naga, chimera, necromancers, mythical creatures, buddhas, kings and heroes. There are people everywhere; walking, lying, sitting, singing, praying. The Technicolor attack of glittering golds and greens and whites overwhelms the senses until even the photographs fail to capture the enormity of the place. Indeed, I emphasise this because, of all the temples and chedis and wats I have visited in Thailand (and I've seen a few!), very few are a patch on the size and splendour of this site.

Anyway, back to the trip. Our destination is Bago, a former capital of the region, and about two hours from Yangon, vehicle suspension and other mechanical considerations permitting. Out of Yangon, the road becomes a straight six lane highway passing forests of bamboo and palm, military barracks, lumber storage fields and concrete walls. After an hour our driver stopped at the Taukkyan War Cemetery, a larger version of the Death Railway Cemetery in Kanchanaburi in Thailand, and kept in pristine condition by the Commonwealth War Graves Commission. Further on we passed the newly built road to Mandalay, which is the nearest I’d ever get to it as even now it’s a 10 hour drive away. The road looked wide and was completely empty which begs the question why so much had been invested in the road systems over here? It certainly can’t be for tourism as there is very little evidence of it on our trip. As for freight, we saw very little in the way of freight lorries; no Western artic-style wagons, no TIR soft sides, just a few open topped bulk carriers and, thinking about it, we hadn’t seen as much as a single 20 foot container on any road. Perhaps military dictatorships build roads for the same reasons the Romans did; to get their armies from A to B faster.

By the time we reached Bago village life became far more rustic with houses predominantly made out of reeds and thatch. However, Lonely Planet describes Bago itself as a “Disney-flavoured theme park of gaudy religious sites . . . this town probably contains a greater density of blissed-out buddhas and treasure-filled temples than any other similar sized towns in southern Myanmar”. True. And the government charge a blanket $10 to visit them, plus 300 Kyat if you want to take pictures. This contrast of poverty and ubiquitous golden temples seems prevalent in the area we’ve been to so far. We visited them all nonetheless although, in my somewhat shaky condition, the midday sun was making me feel quite dizzy so I stayed in the van at the last palace. Our guide took us to a decent restaurant for lunch where I limited myself to an orange juice and water while the others piled away the noodles. The long trip home just about completed our first 48 hours in Myanmar. It was enough for me. I said goodbye to the others and slept for 14 hours.