Showing posts with label LINDA. Show all posts
Showing posts with label LINDA. Show all posts

Wednesday 13 April 2022

161 CYCLE TOURING NAMIBIA (2) - PART 2

                                                 Shenanigans on a bike - By Leana Niemand




NAMIBIA (2) – Part 2

1 490 Kilometres - 21 Days 


 

23 March – Windhoek – Okahandja – 72 km

Following a leisurely start, Linda and I cycled out of Windhoek. Our first day of riding was a pleasant affair as it felt downhill, and a slight tailwind assisted us. Most of the way was along a highway sporting a wide shoulder and thus easy riding.

This northern part of Namibia seemed lusher and greener than further south. As a result, we encountered more traffic as well as villages. However, the most surprising was the enormous termite mounds and the massive mushrooms along the side of the road. Known as Omajowa, these mushrooms grow at the base of termite mounds in Namibia’s central and northern parts.

Even more fascinating is the tops of the termite mounds all seem to point north. Almost everyone, it seems, has a theory of why the mounds indicate north. “Prevailing winds” is a popular one. “Magnetic fields” is another. Still, just how these mounds point so insistently to the north remains unclear.

Our overnight accommodation was at a campsite in comfortable and reasonably priced bungalows. Good thing too, as the north wind picked up, resulting in rain showers, and we were happy we didn’t opt to camp.

 

24 March – Okahandja – Wewelsburg Camping – 92 km

The cold and rainy weather came as a surprise and made riding to Wewelsburg camping miserable. Unfortunately, my skimpy clothes were ill-suited for this weather, and with teeth chattering we sped down the road, hardly stopping. If it weren’t for my sister, who threw in a 20-year-old rain jacket, I would’ve frozen my non-existing backside off.

Our urgent pace made for an early arrival in Wewelsburg, where we found a lovely farm campsite sporting a massive dog, peacocks, goats, and cattle. The owners fired up the “donkey”, providing a hot shower. Amanda and I chose the old bus, and Linda preferred to pitch her tent, a wise decision. Due to the freezing weather, we all turned in early.

 

25/26 March – Wewelsburg camping – Otjiwarongo – 90 km

We woke to thick fog but, on leaving, the visibility improved and the weather a great deal better than the previous day. Still, I was cold as my clothes were still wet.

The ride was unremarkable and the landscape unchanged as we edged closer to the Caprivi. Our sole excitement was spotting more gigantic mushrooms and a traffic officer who stopped to hand us high visibility belts. How very kind of him.

On reaching Otjiwarongo, Amanda had already located a self-catering guesthouse at a fraction of the price other, more popular, places charged. Thanks, Amanda, you’re a star!

Seeing it was only Linda’s third day (two were long ones), Otjiwarongo made for a day of rest. We did little apart from shop for food and beer and lazed about in our lovely guesthouse.

 

27 March – Otjiwarongo – Otavi – 123 km

The stretch north of Otjiwarongo is a long and lonely road. Truly little happened during the day but, strangely enough, the ride was lovely and relaxed, in perfect cycling weather. I love days like this when the way stretches miles ahead, and one gets into a comfortable rhythm with only the sound of your wheels on the tarmac.

My friend handled the distance easily, and we ambled along until reaching Otavi, where Amanda found a room at a rest camp sporting a tiny swimming pool. We sat around the pool, feet dangling in the cool water while sipping a cold Windhoek draught. A perfect end to a good day of cycling.

 

28/29 March – Otavi – Tsumeb – 65 km

A stiff breeze slowed our pace. Fortunately, riding was easy. The scenery was considerably different from the previous days, and it appeared the more north we ventured, the lusher and greener the landscape.

Our short distance made for an early arrival in Tsumeb, which I’ve heard of numerous times but never visited. Amanda again found inexpensive digs, and I’ll miss her when she returns home on Wednesday.

Our main reason for parking off at Tsumeb was to explore the Etosha National Park. Linda arranged a day tour while Amanda and I did a self-drive through the park as it was more economical. I was happy I had this option as Ethosa is a mind-blowing experience. I was in awe of all I saw as the summer rains brought abundant food and water. I never expected to see such a large amount and variety of wildlife. I consequently had a permanent grin as we drove and snapped gazillion pictures.

 

30 March -Tsumeb – Grootfontein (via Hoba Meteorite) – 111 km

We waved Amanda goodbye and slowly gathered our belongings, wondering if all would fit into our panniers. Mercifully, riding was effortless, and we arrived at the turn-off to Grootfontein early. I opted to investigate the Hoba meteorite and Linda headed into town. The Hoba meteorite (although not spectacular) is the largest single meteorite globally and weighs 60 tonnes; quite a weight for such a small stone! It’s estimated the meteorite landed on this globe about 80 000 million years ago. Being the sole person there, I sat staring at it, eating my jelly sweets and wondered what people made of it 80 million years ago!

On my return, I found Linda uncovered lovely overnight accommodation. I didn’t believe my share of the rate was a mere 200 N$. Thanks, Linda. I know you sponsored me! Later, our host served gin and tonic; we couldn’t believe our luck. How kind of him. Our evening meal at the Kitchen Cafe was equally delicious. We sat in their garden until late, chatting and discussing where to go in the morning.

 

31 March - Grootfontein – Roy’s Camp – 60 km

Our leisurely departure was due to the short distance. The way north was uneventful but made for effortless riding and the kilometres flew by. As a result we reached Roy’s Camp early. The camp offered easy camping, a bar and a restaurant. The short four-kilometre bush walk was enjoyable even though we saw no animals. By evening, the staff lit a fire, and we sat drinking wine and chatting with other campers.

 

1 April – Roy’s Camp – Mururani Camp – 72 km

“Come have a look”, Linda whispered, pointing towards the tiny dik-diks in camp. They were no more than 30-40 centimetres high and couldn’t weigh much more than 3 or 4 kilograms—a great way to greet the day.

Again, leaving was past nine as the distance to Mururani Camp was a comfortable 70 kilometres. The slight headwind was a blessing in disguise as it kept us cool and kept the flies at bay. Still, butterflies abounded.

Mururani Camp had a shop on the main road providing cheap beers and snacks. Camping was a laidback affair on a lush lawn and offered the benefit of a large lapa to cook and hang out the rest of the afternoon.

 

2/3 April - Mururani Rest Camp – Rundu – 137 km

It was a long ride to Rundu, but we stuck to the task at hand. Once in Rundu I opted for the Backpackers and Linda for a slightly more upmarket guesthouse.

 

4 April – Rundu – Mukuku Rest Camp – 77 km

Seeing most shops are closed on a Sunday in Namibia, not a great deal got done, and I, therefore, proceeded to the shop first thing Monday morning. Unfortunately, Linda also had trouble drawing money. It was almost 11 o’clock before we made our way through the potholes and muddy puddles out of Rundu.

Not a considerable amount happened during the day. Still, riding through a rural area where traditional huts abounded was pleasant. It’s an area where people live simple lives; kids walk to schools consisting of no more than tin shacks.

At Mukuku Rest Camp, we chatted to the owner, who offered to take us on a boat ride along the Okovango River. What an immense privilege to experience this river at sunset as the many birds settled in the treetops.

 

5 April - Mukuku Rest Camp – Camp Ndurukoro – 111 km

Linda and I thanked Hans, the owner, and walked our bikes along the sandy path to the dirt road. At least the dirt road was in good condition and made reaching the paved road easy.

 

6 April - Camp Ndurukoro – Rainbow River Lodge - 65 km

Although our friendly hosts at the Ndurukoro Camp said they would phone their friends at Shametu to tell them we were on our way, Linda wanted to stay at Rainbow River Lodge as she believed it had a view of the Popa Falls. After pushing our bikes along the sandy approach road, we uncovered a campsite on the river with no view of the falls.

 

7 April – Rainbow River Lodge – Omega Police Station – 85 km

It took time to walk our bikes back to the main road from where the going was considerably more manageable. Our first stop was at the supermarket to stock up on food before getting underway towards the Botswana border, still, a few days riding away.

 

8 April - Omega Police Station – Kongola – 139 km

We thanked the friendly police officers and resumed our quest in the presence of the kids walking to school. It’s astounding how far these little kids walk. Most schools were basic setups under trees with only a tin shack or two.

Once again, the day turned out a long, slow slog along the main road. Little happened except the familiar sight of small groups of traditional huts and women collecting wood. We were still cycling through the Bwabwata National Park. Although a multi-use area, we were lucky to see two elephants, albeit far in the distance. Linda chose a more upmarket guesthouse, whereas I chose a local joint at a mere 150 N$. In typical African style, the room was as basic as anticipated, but the friendliness was unbeatable.

 

9 April – Kongola – Ivory Camp – 35km

By morning, Linda decided this was enough long and lonely stretches and opted for an excursion along the Kwando River. I needed to draw money and top up my internet and thus had to wait until the single shop in the village opened. Things move slowly in Africa. On cycling out of the village, the sign to Camp Kwando made me realise I was at the turnoff to my friend’s lodge where I was invited to overnight. So I made a U-turn and headed in the direction of Ivory Camp.

At camp, I was surprised the units were right on the Kwando River and that the area formed part of a hunting concession. Hippos wandered around at leisure and I was advised to put the bike inside. Koen, the manager, was super friendly, and as I didn’t want to take advantage of his kindness, I took a taxi into town to buy food and beer. What a fantastic experience. The trip took almost the rest of the day as the driver stopped at each person, enquiring about their well-being and whether they needed a ride. In the village, each one got dropped off and collected later.

By the time I returned to the lodge, Koen had prepared us a meal, and we sat outside eating and listening to the sounds of the wilderness. The news that a neighbour died of malaria was a reality check and I realised I hadn’t started taking my malaria tablets.

 

10 April – Ivory Camp – Kongola – 36 km

I returned along the sandy track and cycled past peaceful settlements where smoke lazily drifted skywards. The way led past kids collecting water and wood as I found myself cycling into a stiff breeze. My late departure and the headwind made me realise I most likely would be unable to reach Katima and hence stayed one more night in the tiny settlement of Kongola.

Albeit situated on the national road and the national power line, it has not yet been connected to the electricity grid. The power was iffy, to say the least. Luckily, the power came on at around 6 pm, but it was a mystery just how long it would last. There’s further no access to safe water but, too lazy to cycle to the shop, I drank the water anyway as I reckoned I’m immune to water-borne diseases by now. I guess this can come back to bite me in the ass!

 

11/12 April – Kongola – Katima Mulilo – 120 km

The route between Kongola and Katima is not one of the most interesting, but there’s no such thing as a dull day of cycling in Africa. Unexpectedly, I encountered ladies collecting wood or water, and their faces screamed disbelief, and I can’t blame them. However, they were quick to smile and wave once over the initial shock.

We haven’t seen any of the enormous termite mounds seen further south because the termite mound soil is used to build huts, and I understand these structures can last between 5 – 10 years. The road was further dotted with makeshift stalls selling fresh milk and meat. Exactly how fresh remains a mystery.

Neat settlements abounded, and so did the Nguni cattle, a breed indigenous to Southern Africa. Nguni cattle are heat and light tolerant and can handle extreme heat and cold alike. In addition, they are adaptable and hardy and possess excellent resistance to internal and external parasites with natural immunity to tick-borne diseases.

The effortless riding made for an early arrival in the sad-looking town of Katima where I bunked down at the ABC Guesthouse. I love these places and realise how much I’ve missed Africa and its simple and slow way of life.

The following day was also spent in Katima as I had a few things to do, and Linda needed a day of rest after her long cycle the previous day.

Interestingly, I chatted with people and was asked if I wanted to settle in the area. The indigenous people do not view land as their own property – instead, it is something that belongs to everyone. I understood that they could speak to the chief and, if permission was granted, I could build myself a hut. I quite like that idea. 

Thursday 18 October 2018

CYCLE TOURING MYANMAR (3) - LINDA 2018

 


THAILAND (17.1), MYANMAR (3), THAILAND (18)
1531 Km – 36 Days
12 September – 17 October 2018

Photos 


 

12 September – Bangkok

Linda landed in Bangkok, jet-lagged following a 27-hour long-haul flight from Fort Lauderdale and after much chatting over a beer, we turned in early.

 

13 September – Bangkok

There were loads to talk about since Linda left in January and following a few coffees, the two of us headed to the familiar Gecko Bar for breakfast. The canal ferry was a fun way to explore Bangkok, and hopping on one to pick up my laptop from the Pantip Plaza saved time and money. Bangkok offered a great deal to see, and the river ferry made easy exploring and provided effortless access to the Temple of Dawn. One last job remained, and we hailed a taxi to the Myanmar embassy to collect my visa. Due to the hectic Bangkok traffic, our cab made it to the Embassy minutes before it closed.

That evening strolling the backstreets of Banglamphu, we met Edward (Ted) Jones Whitehead, author of the book Down Below. At 95, he was remarkably energetic and still with a twinkle in the eye. Typical of a real old seadog, he soon hauled out his packet of fags while enjoying a beer. A truly remarkable man and an honour to meet him.

 

14 September – Bangkok

Breakfast was a bowl of noodle soup, and then off to the supermarket to stock up on bits and bobs needed. After collecting the laundry, Linda set out exploring, and I headed to China Town to hunt for a cup water heater. With its warren of stalls and labyrinthian alleyways, Chinatown offered the whole shebang from food to fluffy teddy bears and jewellery. It’s a vast and lively area where it took pushing and shoving my way through the mass of bodies. The trick was locating the right market. Eventually, after considerable directing from traders, I came upon the electrical appliance section. Unsure if I would ever find the market again, I bought two.

My bicycle was still at the bike shop, and a visit to the shop revealed a broken spoke, meaning it would only be ready the following day. Finally, a tight squeeze on the back of a motorbike taxi, took Linda and me to Khao San Road. The motorbike raced through the traffic, arriving at our destination just as it started raining.

 

15 September – Bangkok

Plans of catching a bus to the Myanmar border went by the wayside as my bike was only going to be ready at 11 am. After a leisurely start, an amble to the Gecko Bar provided breakfast. Linda trundled off to the famous Golden Mount and I returned to the guesthouse to wait for the delivery of my bicycle.

Once all our errands were done, we could explore more of old Bangkok. The old man selling the second-hand false teeth and bridges were still there. I was surprised to notice the teeth were steadily becoming less (I kid you not!). Equally fascinating was the amulet market where they sold more ominous items than only innocent Buddha necklaces. In fact, a few looked downright voodoo-ish!

By evening, enjoying our Chang beers on the roof terrace of our guesthouse, a massive storm rolled in, making a quick escape to a nearby restaurant. No sooner seated, the rain arrived with one almighty bang! It bucketed down as we sat watching the thunder and lightning. By the time our meal was finished, the storm had passed, and we sloshed through the puddles without as much as feeling a drop.

 

16 September – Bangkok to Mae Sot (by bus)

A short cycle led to the bus terminus. Being Sunday morning, traffic was light. Once at the bus station, the bus to Mae Sot came as a pleasant surprise and was more comfortable than expected. It nevertheless remained a 7-hour ride to Mae Sot, a scruffy border town with questionable border trade.

The First Hotel was a great choice as the place was quite remarkable with an imposing Burmese teak staircase and intricate ceiling carvings. Our minds boggled at what all could be done with such an impressive building.

Then, off to the famous, Khrua Canadian restaurant. Dave, the Canadian owner, had at the time of our visit been living in Thailand for the past 20 years and, together with his wife, ran a highly successful restaurant serving Western cuisine to farangs craving food from home. We returned to our accommodation with full bellies and prepared to cross the border into Myanmar the following morning.

 

MYANMAR (3)

 

17 September - Mae Sot, Thailand – Kawkareik, Myanmar – 55 km

A short cycle ride via the Friendship Bridge, spanning the Moei River, led to the Thai-Myanmar border. Once in Myawaddy, situated on the Myanmar side of the river, we found ourselves in a substantially more chaotic area. Amidst the dust, tuk-tuks, bicycle rickshaws and trucks, we obtained new SIM cards and changed a few dollars. Quite a feat, taking neither Linda nor I had any command of Burmese. The Myanmar Kyat had an exchange rate of 1,000 kyats to 1 USD, and it took purchasing a new wallet to store all the notes. Together with minivans, busses and what looked like an endless procession of motorbikes, two bewildered foreigners cycled out of Myawaddy.

The ride over the mountain was steep but came with spectacular views; mercifully, the weather was cloudy. Once over the high point, the road sped down to the small town of Kawkareik, where a room at the Smile World Guest House came at the exorbitant rate of $20! The place was a dump, but there was nothing better in town, and as Linda commented, the only one smiling was the owner.

A suanter into town revealed a beautiful Hindu temple and a lovely Buddhist one, but only a few eateries. Once seated at the only open restaurant, we were asked quizzically, “Myanmar?” and after indicating “Yes”, we waited in great anticipation to see what our order of “Myanmar” meant. Then, finally, the food arrived and consisted of rice and many small bowls filled with exotic dishes. Even trying our level best, such a substantial amount was served, it was impossible to finish what was served.

 

18 September – Kawakareik – Hpa-An – 92 km

On departing, priority was to find something to eat before heading to Hpa-An. Unfortunately, the roadside eateries didn’t reveal much besides the fruit that Linda bought. At the same time, I opted for a bag of fried snacks, consisting of samosas, puri, and deep-fried dough. I was sure it contained enough calories to see me through the next week!

To have said the road was slow going, bumpy, and potholed would’ve been an understatement. We bounced along past people working in rice fields and skilful fishermen casting nets. The congested road led us through small settlements where buses and trucks slowly manoeuvred along a narrow, potholed road. There was no other option than to follow suit and snake around the muddy holes as best we could.

Towards the end of the day, the route deteriorated further, becoming muddy or dusty as it made its way over the hills. Nonetheless, the scenery was sublime, and the roadside stalls sold an interesting array of dried and fried fish. The poor road conditions and humidity made it an exhausting ride. To our relief, Hpa-An came into view, where accommodation was substantially better than the previous night.

 

19 September – Hpa-An – Mawlamyine – 65 km

An early morning meander through the market revealed a scene that could’ve been in the days of Kipling. Men with tanned faces shaded by bamboo hats peddled sidecars in flip-flop feet. Others with heavy bags of rice on their backs shuffled to waiting trucks; boy monks collected food, and ladies with painted faces sold fruit and vegetables.

From Hpa-An, a short ride led to Mawlamyine, and the route significantly improved from the previous day. A short detour led to the surreal Kyauk Ka Lat Pagoda. The pagoda balanced precariously atop a limestone pinnacle at the centre of a manmade lake. From there our path led past ever-present, optimistic fishermen using all conceivable methods to catch something for the pot. The most successful were men snorkelling and spearing with a rudimentary spear made of bamboo, between the rice paddies. Finally, we pedalled past small rural hamlets where bare-bum kids played beside the highway and chickens pecked in the dirt.

At a river, the road abruptly came to an end. Luckily, a tiny wooden boat ferried us across from where a minor way led to Mawlamyine—formerly known as Moulmein, and famous for its pagoda-adorned Mawlamyine Ridge.

The Sandalwood Hotel was our abode of choice and, once offloaded, each wandered off in their own direction. I walked along the waterfront past old, crumbling colonial-era buildings and meandered through Mawlamyine’s chaotic market area. It could’ve been 1826! Finally, I strolled along to the Kyaik-Thanlan pagoda, erected in 875 A. D. and said to house a hair relic of the Buddha. Afterwards, I met up with Linda and walked to the Mahamuni Pagoda and the waterfront for a meal.

 

20 September - Mawlamyine

Being a fascinating and unusual place, the next day was spent in Mawlamyine. A stroll through the morning market indicated the importance of chewing paan and using traditional makeup. Even though traditional makeup is used in many ancient societies worldwide, it’s rarely used in everyday life, as in Myanmar. As in Myanmar, about every woman uses face paint. I thought it delightful that both men and women were still wearing the traditional sarong.

A tea house made an excellent place to watch the world go by. The clientele was primarily longyi-clad men with red, paan-stained teeth, sipping sweet milk tea, chatting with friends, or reading the paper. Then, off to see the enormous reclining Buddha about 20 kilometres south of Mawlamyine. Finally, the evening was spent walking along the promenade and drinking beer at a local joint—an excellent way to end the day.

 

21 September – Mawlamyine – Thaton – 70 km

Included in the room rate was breakfast, after which our path headed in the direction of Thaton. The route ran past numerous temples, and golden, stupa-adorned mountaintops. A short detour led to a nearby waterfall, once again, with a stupa at the top. After walking up the stairs and snapping a few pics of the plains below, we returned to the bikes for the ride to Thaton.

Situated on the Tenasserim plains, the route was flat and cycling enjoyable. Arrival in Thaton was early, and a basic guesthouse made good enough digs. Unfortunately, there wasn’t much to do in Thaton but walk to the Shwe Sar Yan Pagoda. It wasn’t the most spectacular Burmese temple but still a pleasant enough way to spend a few minutes. The amble to our establishment was past a roadside restaurant with tables on the pavement, which made a perfect place to watch the daily life of Thaton go by while having supper.

 

22 September – Thaton – Kyaikto – 70 km

A good road ran to Kyaikto, where the conveniently located Happy Guest House lured us in. Once the bikes were offloaded and following a shower and lunch, Linda and I headed to the Golden Rock. The famous Golden Rock of Myanmar, or “Kyaiktiyo Pagoda”, is situated atop a mountain. Reaching it first involved hailing a motorbike taxi to where large trucks ran up the mountain. The truck could take about 40 people and, once filled, it headed up the steep mountain pass. Due to the severity of the gradient, no other vehicles were allowed up the pass. Hanging on for dear life, the truck (what felt like) recklessly sped up the mountain. On top was a small community and no less than three hotels. The fog rolled in, and, in no time at all, one could hardly see anything at all. Still, we made our way to the rock, precariously balanced on top of a cliff. Then, a no less scary bus ride returned to the starting point.

 

23 September – Kyaikto – Bago –119 km

A lavish breakfast consisted of fried noodles and eggs, just the thing needed to see us through the day. Rural roads took us past tiny settlements where time appeared to have stood still. Our path slowly deteriorated, turning into a small footpath and, eventually, came to a complete halt. The only option was to return to the main road, making it a longer day than anticipated.

On reaching Bago, Linda located the Amara Gold Hotel, which was more than adequate. With its outdoor rooms, it made easy loading and offloading of bikes.

 

24 September – Bago – Yangon – 81 km

From Bago to Yangon, there was no option to take rural paths; all one could do was stick to the motorway heading into Yangon. As usual, the road was busy and, as one neared the city, the heavier the traffic became. Still, we miraculously made it to our destination unscathed.

Yangon is an old city founded at least a thousand years ago by the Mon people. According to legend, the city’s most famous landmark, the Shwedagon Pagoda, was founded during the time of the Buddha. Since then, the town has developed around the pagoda. Yangon is a fascinating city, where Buddhist monks walk the streets barefoot, men wear traditional longyi clothing, and bicycle rickshaws remain a popular form of transport. Graced with an ensemble of old colonial British rule buildings, coupled with its riverside location, made it a fascinating place to linger. The Sakura Tower, with its rooftop bar and restaurant, was a great place to share a drink and snap a few pics of the city. Supper was at the aptly named Vista Bar with a magnificent view of the impressive and beautifully lit Shwedagon Pagoda.

 

25 September – Yangon

The following day was spent in Yangon as there was a multitude of things to see and do.

 

26 September - Yangon – Okkan - 101 km

Again, there was no other option but to follow the main road, making getting out of Yangon a nightmare. The main road didn’t make exciting riding, but, eventually the road spat us out in the countryside, exactly where we wanted to be and amongst familiar rice fields. Our route continued past lone monks and fishermen. Men in lungis, under bamboo hats, peddled bicycles with sidecars, and women with painted faces sold wares from woven baskets balanced on their heads. Parents sat on their haunches outside schools waiting to collect their little ones, and, as always, the path led past numerous Buddhist temples, some more lavish than others. Rudimentary houses and small food stalls lined our route. Kids sporting umbrellas returned from school as we made our way past forgotten graveyards.

A light lunch was from a roadside stop. Shortly afterwards, Linda and I rolled into Okken, which sported comfortable lodging. The staff was incredibly accommodating, and I had the feeling that not many foreigners overnighted in Okkan.

 

27 September – Okkan – Gyobingauk - 93 km

Following breakfast, we biked on to Gyobingauk. The ride was an effortless one, mostly past rice paddies and temples. We meandered through rural areas and past teeny hamlets and a multituede of roadside vendors. There wasn’t much to see in Gyobingauk and overnighting was purely due to its location midway between Okkan and Pyay.

 

28 September – Gyobingauk – Pyay – 90 km

The way to Pyay was flat and in good condition, making effortless pedalling. The area was a rural one where people fished with rudimentary nets and paid their respects at temples. In Pyay we bedded down at the upmarket Hotel Irrawaddy right on the Irrawaddy River. A considerable discount provided a double room at $25, a bargain compared to other places.

 

29 September – Pyay

There was indeed something very romantic about Myanmar. I don’t know if it’s due to the vibrant colours, the hazy sunrises and sunsets, the ladies with painted faces, or the men with conical hats cycling bicycles with sidecars. Maybe it was a combination of all these beautiful images. Waking to the chanting of monks, drifting across from the immensely impressive Shwesandaw Paya, one couldn’t help but fall in love with Myanmar. Perched atop a central hill, Pyay’s Shwesandaw Paya is slightly taller than Yangon’s Shwedagon Paya and dates from 589 BC.

 

30 September – Pyay – Aunglan - 75 km

Departing Paya was amidst lady monks (nuns) collecting food, who seemed more jovial than their male counterparts. The road was rough but flat as we made our way past beautiful scenes of rice fields with blue skies and colourful temples. Halfway through the day, the vegetation changed and became similar to the Pampas in Argentina. Like there, the area was a cattle-farming one.

Men on oxcarts called cheerful greeted, as ladies in conical hats worked the fields. The road followed the Irrawaddy River and, from time to time, ran flush next to it and, at other times, headed inland. Finally, Aunglan signalled the end of the day’s ride.

 

1 October - Aunglan – Magway – 140 km

The stretch between Aunglan and Magway became a tiring and slow day of biking along a bumpy road with many steep little hills. The oppressing heat made exhausting riding. Nevertheless, we slowly churned our way up the hills, only crawling into Magway reasonably late.

 

2 October - Magway – Chauk – 120 km

With tired legs we cycled the 120 kilometres to Chauk. The road led slightly uphill for the first 90 kilometres and then a steady downhill took us to Chauk where a brand-new establishment at $30 was available. We couldn’t be happier.

 

3 October - Chauk – Bagan – 45 km

A short and effortless ride along a rural road ran to Bagan. The way into Bagan was along many ancient temples, and one couldn’t help but snap a few pics.

 

4–5 October - Bagan

It’s said Bagan was the capital of the first Myanmar Empire, it’s situated on the bank of the Ayeyarwady River and coveres an area of 42 sq. km. The town was built around 849 AD and became a city of great importance in the mid-9th century under King Anawrahta, who unified Burma under Theravada Buddhism. Over the next 250 years, Bagan’s rulers and their wealthy subjects constructed over 10,000 religious monuments in the Bagan plains. In 1287, nearly all were destroyed by the Mongols during their wide-ranging conquests.

Today, over 2,200 temples and pagodas still survive, and I’m not exaggerating if I say there are temples everywhere. The people of Bagan live and work amongst these ruins; cattle graze, kids play in the dusty roads and people still worship at these old temples. Bagan is indeed a magical place, especially at sunrise and sunset.

Eventually, time came to move on, and a boat trip up the Irrawaddy River connected Bagan with Mandalay. The boat ride avoided a two-day bicycle ride along a rough road to Mandalay. The trip further allowed enjoying the mighty Irrawaddy River, the country’s backbone.

 

6 October - Mandalay

Making the tiny gold leaf sheets worshippers use at temples is an industry that has existed in Myanmar since ancient times. Walking the streets of Mandalay, I came upon an alley where a rhythmic pounding could be heard. On closer inspection, I found muscled gold beaters beating small packages with big hammers. I subsequently learned that refined pieces of gold are liquefied and turned into thin, flat gold sheets. Each piece was put between two layers of bamboo paper and pounded with 6-lb hammers for about 30 minutes. This resulted in a small, flat part of gold leaf mainly used as offerings at pagodas.

It felt like around every corner was an ancient monastery. These were beautiful wooden buildings dating to the 1800s. The Shwenandaw Monastery was one of the country’s most significant examples of traditional 19th-century wooden monastery buildings. Carved from teak, the monastery was located outside the Mandalay Royal Palace and, I understood, was part of the palace. I read that when the capital moved to Mandalay, the building was dismantled, transported to Mandalay, and rebuilt as part of the new all-teak Royal Palace in 1857.

No less impressive was the adjacent Kuthodaw Pagoda, situated on a 5.2-hectare site. It contains the entire Theravāda Buddhist scripture. The scripture was carved on 729 marble stelae known as the ‘World’s Biggest Book’. The complex was created between 1860 and 1868 by Myanmar’s penultimate king, King Mindon (1853–1878). The Kuthodaw Pagoda is on UNESCO’s ‘Memory of the World register.

My next stop was at the equally impressive Why Shwe In Bin Monastery. The monastery was built in traditional Burmese fashion and was constructed in 1895 by Chinese merchants. During my visit, 35 monks lived there, and I heard them chanting as I roamed the grounds.

At the puppet factory, I was astounded by the workers’ skills and expertise. All the puppets and clothing were handmade. I could carry on and on about the fantastic work done there.

My last stop was at the U Bein Bridge, said the world’s longest teak footbridge. The bridge spanned Taungthaman Lake and seemed a popular spot. That said, I didn’t see any other Caucasians exploring the area. The bridge and the fishermen would make fantastic pictures at sunset, but I was, sadly, too early.

 

7 October – Mandalay – Thabyewa, Tha Phay Wa – 142 km

From Mandalay, a short 76 kilometres route led to Kume, our planned destination, which made a leisurely start, first stopping at the U Bein Bridge as Linda missed it the previous day. The ride was effortless, but the two guesthouses (contrary to what was confirmed the previous night) didn’t allow foreigners. There was nothing to do about the situation but continue to Meiktila, 75 kilometres further.

Being well-rested, biking was easy, albeit far. Then, dark clouds started forming, and following a loud crack of thunder, it started bucketing down. A mad scramble followed in packing away our electronics, after which we proceeded with rain beating down. Eventually, the storm dissipated, and a mild tailwind made pleasurable riding.

Seventeen kilometres from Meiktila, Linda suddenly pulled off the road, and I wondered what the problem was but then realised she spotted a guesthouse. The rooms were a mere $10 and came with air-con and a hot water shower; we couldn’t be happier.

 

8 October - Thabywea – Meiktila – 17 km + Inle Lake – 173 km (by bus)

During the evening, the route was discussed, and there seemed little of importance along the main road. Instead, taking a bus to Inle Lake and spending our last few days in Myanmar at the lake sounded far more exciting.

A short cycle took us to Meiktila bus station from where minivans ran to Nyaung Shwe, the gateway town to the lake area. Judging by the condition of our minivan, it was doubtful whether it would be capable of making it over the steep pass. But, miraculously, it made it to Nyaung Shwe with only stopping twice to do quick repair jobs.

The driver dropped us outside Inle Inn, with extremely comfortable accommodation at $18. Already late by then, only enough time remained to enjoy a quick meal at the Indian restaurant.

 

9-10 October – Inle Lake, Nyaung Shwe

I was up early as I arranged a boat to take me out on the lake to see the sunrise and maybe get a glimpse of the fishermen. These iconic fishermen of Inle Lake, known as the “Leg-Rowing fishermen” of Myanmar, steered their boats with one leg. They stood on one leg, wrapping their other leg around an oar, leaving one hand free to fish.

I was unlucky with the sunrise as the sky was completely overcast. Still, it remained fun trying to photograph the fishermen. Not an easy task in low light and on a moving boat.

 

11-12 October – Inle Lake

Our hanging around the lake wasn’t purely because of its laidback atmosphere but also to experience the Phaung Daw U Pagoda Festival.

The Phaung Daw U Pagoda Festival is held annually for 18 days. It’s one of the most famous festivals in Myanmar. Phaung Daw U Pagoda was best known in the Inle Lake region and housed five small, gilded images of Buddha. These images were covered in gold leaf to such an extent that their original forms could no longer be identified.

A large boat with a Golden Hintha (Hamsa) Bird creation was constructed and formed part of the festival. On this boat, the Buddha images toured around Inle Lake from village to village, taking 18 days to do so. The leg-rowers of Inle Lake, dressed in shiny colourful costumes, towed the decorated barge.

Myanmar is a multi-tribe country with about 135 ethnic tribes. I understood that the oldest of these tribes is the Padaung long-neck tribe. Surprisingly, they kept many unique customs and rituals, including wearing many necklaces to ensure longer necks. Legend has it a tribe leader dreamt a tiger would attack the community and break their necks when his daughter gave birth. He thus made all children wear necklaces. It’s said the practice dates to the 11th century. However, the long-neck look is not achieved because the neck is stretched. Instead, the weight of the weighty rings pushes the shoulders down, creating an illusion that the neck is longer. Although women still wear these necklaces, nearly all are decorative and removable.

 

13-14 October - Inle Lake – Mywaddy (Myanmar/Thailand border) by bus

So much fun was had at Inle Lake; we had to rush off to the border to get out before our visas expired. Tickets were arranged on the night bus, and rumoured a direct bus to the border.

The coach left shortly past 16h00, but it only made 30 kilometres before coming to a halt. All watched in anticipation when the toolbox came out. An hour later, the verdict was that the bus was “kaput”, and a new coach was ordered to transport us the rest of the way. The bus ride was a long ride without a toilet. If someone needed to use the bathroom, one could ask the bus driver to stop, and all would pile out and do the necessary. It thus turned out to be long past midday before reaching the border town of Myawaddy.

Linda and I packed the bicycles and biked to the Immigration Office, where one was stamped out. Waving Myanmar goodbye we headed to the Thai immigration to get our entry stamps and then returned to the First Hotel in Mae Sot. A meal and beer were precisely what we needed.

 

 

THAILAND (18)

 

15 October - Mae Sot – Bangkok by bus

We emerged leisurely and decided to spend the day in Mae Sot and take the night bus to Bangkok. This allowed us the entire day to relax and do whatever we wanted. I bought myself a new mobile phone as my old one had seen better days.

The ride to the bus stop was in the dark, a scary experience. The bus left at 20h00 and 4h30 when we reached Bangkok bus station. Albeit still pitch dark, we saddled up and headed into the city via a busy road, making it a hair-raising experience. Reasonable people might’ve had coffee and waited until daylight, but not us! We headed out in the dark and, mercifully, made it to our guesthouse in one piece.

 

16-17 October – Bangkok

I could not sleep, even though I hadn’t slept all night. Ultimately, I gave up, sauntered around the Khao San Road area, and took the bicycle to Bok-Bok Bike for a service. Linda packed her bags as her flight to the Philippines was at midday and with that came to an end, another enjoyable ride in Southeast Asia.