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Asia Azerbaijan Azerbaijan trip 2019

Arrival in Baku

I don’t think I even knew what or where Azerbaijan was until I went to Georgia and checked out the region in my plans. It sounded interesting and I was drawn to the pictures of historic mosques and the walled old city of Baku with super modern architecture rising in the background. It has not disappointed.

A bit of trivia: Azerbaijan is located here:

It is officially the Republic of Azerbaijan and is located in the Caucasus region at the furthest edge of western Asia between Russia, Armenia, Georgia, and Iran. The Caspian Sea lies to the east. It has at various times been a part of different regional empires, often going back and forth from Iranian and Russian control. It was briefly independent in 1918 before it was absorbed into the Soviet Union, where it stayed until the fall. There are portions in the south that are still disputed territories, but we won’t talk about those.

The approximately 10million people here speak Russian and Azeri. The currency is the Manat. Baku is the capital. They have oil.

I arrived from Moscow in the afternoon. I had gotten my visa online ahead of time. (The evisa system https://evisa.gov.az/en/ is very easy to use if you follow the instructions.) Security and immigration were simple and I exited the super modern airport.

There are shuttle buses and taxis (official and not) from the airport. There are also cars you can prebook online to pick you up. They have uber as well. I decided to hire an official taxi from the rank, as I didn’t feel like haggling. They gave me a general price but said the ride would be based on the meter, plus a small fee for going into the old city. The official taxis here are black British style and the drivers wear suits and ties. Smoking is allowed in the front seat but not in the back. My driver never was able to find my hotel, but I was certain that we were close and that I could find it on foot (which I did in a couple minutes). He told me the price was exactly 50 manat, which was about 15-20 manat past ridiculous, but my Russian does not include the words for con artist, so i paid the money. If I were doing it again, I would have taken an unofficial taxi and haggled for a flat fee.

I am staying at “Floors The Housing Space” which is in the old, walled city. The location is awesome. Easy to find (except for con artist taxi drivers), just 30 seconds away from a metro station and walking distance to most sites. It is pretty cheap and has a nice rooftop area. The staff are friendly (though, with my limited language skills, who can say). It is a bit weird though. The decor is quite stylish, which makes sense when you realize that the main business is not as a hostel, but as a bar / shisha lounge. On the second floor they have a small dorm room and two private rooms, but all other areas, including one area on the second floor are used for the bar / shisha lounge. So at night loads of people are coming and going – loudly. At midnight when I walked from my room to the bathroom in my pjs to wash up, there were people hanging out, smoking and drinking. Loud music carried on long after I fell asleep. I think I am the only guest staying there. Weird, but fine.

That first afternoon I explored the old city and took a walk to the sea. The old city is very enjoyable for strolling. Lots of restaurants and crafts shops, ice cream vendors, roving fruit sellers, shisha bars. Also residential areas. The structures are old, some about 1000 years old or so, including fortresses, a palace, mosques, and baths.

Old city Baku with Flame Towers in the background

It does all feel quite cleaned up. It is not as crumbly as old Tbilisi or as labyrinthine as a medina. I like it, but I might like it better if it was a bit rougher.

Poet head sculpture right next to my hostel

I visited the palace, which is now a small museum, but otherwise just poked around.

Around the old city is the regular city, which, in the centre anyway, feels very European.

There are lots of park areas with fountains and benches, carousels, and snack sellers.

It is super hot here. About 35 degrees on the first day. And humid. I see other women walking around, faces powder dry, makeup impeccable. Me? My face poured sweat, my hair stuck to me, i looked like a mess. Arriving after ~30 hours of travel didn’t help.

The lack of sleep and jet lag caught up to me. I walked to the sea, where there is a wide promenade. I sat down, back against a post, looking across the sea, trying to make out Turkmenistan in the distance, and fell asleep.

I don’t think I was out for too long, but on awaking, I knew it was time to rest, so I walked more in search of a cigar lounge I had seen online. Eventually I found it. C. Gars. I got a Partagas P2 and settled in for some quiet, indoor smoking.

After that, the sun was going down and I returned to my hotel for a small rest before going out again at 9ish for diner and a hookah. They don’t have a lot of vegetarian food here, but what I have had has been excellent. That first night I had lentil soup, fresh bread, and a baked dish of eggplant, tomato, potato, and plums.

After, i had a hookah at an outdoor cafe. It was late and I was tired, but the weather was so perfect, that it sustained me.

In that first day, which was really an afternoon, I felt like I had seen much of what I wanted to see and I was not sure what I would do the next day, but I am definitely glad I had more time.

Azerbaijan trip 2019 England Europe United Kingdom

London Layover

I decided to go to Azerbaijan because I had about 10 days of holiday to use and I had loved a previous trip to neighbouring Georgia so much that I thought it was time I returned to the Caucasus.

There really is no quick way to Azerbaijan, so I flew from Vancouver to London, from London to Moscow, and Moscow to Baku. Mercifully, I had a nine hour layover in London. Any shorter and I would have been at the airport. So I went into London for the afternoon. I wanted to walk a different area from the past few times I was there, so I decided to walk the South Bank of the Thames.

I took the Heathrow Express to Paddington and then the tube to Westminster.

Big Ben’s tower was covered in scaffolding but I caught an over the shoulder look at the parliament buildings as I crossed the bridge. Turning onto the boardwalk, I suddenly thought I had made a terrible mistake. It was so crowded. Like shoulder-to-shoulder, shuffling along crowded. But I didn’t have a bunch of time, so I didn’t want to waste time changing gears and map consulting, so I pressed through. Fortunately it got better.

The worst of the crowds were at the beginning the walk, around the London Eye, Dungeon and Aquarium, then they thinned out. I can’t think of many things i would like to do less than go on the London Eye. Packed i to sealed glass pods with a bunch of sweaty strangers as you move slowly in a circle. My biggest gripe is the slow speed, followed by being sealed up in glass (in the heat), followed by the sweaty strangers. It occurred to me though that I would enjoy a ferris wheel if it was open at the top so you could have a breeze, and there were tables with seating for two in each, then you could order cocktails from your phone and pick then up at the bottom as you circled by. Cigar friendly, of course. This is a great idea. Get on it, someone.

Anyway, once the crowds lessened, it was a perfect walk. There were buskers, a skate park, a book market, street art, and wonderful views.

I got a burrito from a food truck and just strolled along.

I didn’t have time to visit any of the attractions, but just the fact that on one short walk I walked past all the stuff on the street that I did, but could have just popped in to see world class art at the Tate or visited Shakespeare’s Globe Theatre, is amazing.

I waled to the London Bridge, catching glimpses of St. Paul’s, the Shard, the millennium bridge, and the Tower of London on the way.

I walked to A nearby Tube station and went to Green Park, where I popped in to the excellent tobacconist James J. Fox and enjoyed a Montecristo Linea 1935 in their upstairs lounge.

Leaving there, I strolled a bit more before returning to the airport, with plenty of time.

It was a perfectly pleasant afternoon and nicely broke up the long flights to Baku.

Central America / Caribbean Cuba

Weekend in Havana

A long weekend in Havana sounded perfect. I had been before, in 2014 I think, and I loved it. Mostly for the cigars, but it is a great destination in its own right – though if it wasn’t for the cigars I wouldn’t have gone back. I had already seen the sights I wanted to see in Havana, so a weekend sounded like a perfect opportunity to just hang out with no pressure to see or do anything in particular.

I left Vancouver on a Thursday evening, changed planes in Mexico City and landed in Havana at about 2:00pm on Friday. I arrived at the airport in Havana and, once through immigration, found myself doing the usual haggling with taxi drivers. They all wanted 40 or 35 CUCs, which I knew was too much. After making my counter offers, I was left rideless. I smoked a cigarillo, deciding how long to wait before upping my offering price, but then a guy who was picking up other passengers and also going to the National Hotel offered to take me for 10 CUC. Bingo.

I held the sign with the name of the family we were waiting for. When the family of four (two older couples) emerged, I suddenly found myself being asked to pose for pictures with them. I get that they were excited to travel to Cuba, but the airport pickup photos seemed excessive. I found out on the ride in that two of them were born in Cuba but left 40 years ago, moved to Puerto Rico and hadn’t seen their families since.

I arrived at the Hotel National giddy. With heat and humidity, with the excitement of being in Havana, and with the sight of that gorgeous patio facing the sea. Before even going to my room I bought a box of 10 Partagas torpedos and smoked a cigar on a wicker sofa outside.

My room was ordinary, but the Hotel Nacionale is a dream. It is this grand historical hotel that has so many stories that they do historical tours everyday of just the hotel.

From the hotel I walked mostly along the Malecon to old Havana, taking detours for street art and architecture. It wasn’t a long walk but I was dripping with sweat by the time I arrived.

I spent the rest of the day time hours walking around the old city revisiting streets and squares I have been to in the past.

Much of it was as I remembered but there were also new and refurbished buildings.

It’s such a touristy city but it still feels authentic. People live there and operate businesses. There was a new cool cafe that had opened, but next to it was still the same shack where locals paid a pittance to shoot bebe guns at beer cans.

I wandered aimlessly over that day and the next, taking time out to smoke cigars at the private room at the Partagas store and in At the La Casa in Miramar.

One of the best things that happened was walking through old Havana I heard loud Duke Ellington music and I thought, “That’s a place I need to be.” I figured it would be a bar or restaurant but when i found the door through which the blared I discovered that I had in fact walked in to a man’s humble living room.

He was older. 70 maybe. Sitting in a wooden chair in a pretty empty room next too a record player and a stack of records. I apologized a d said something about liking the music, but as I went to leave, he beckoned me in and pulled up a chair. He spoke no English and I speak only the most basic of Spanish but we hung out for the better part of an hour. He showed me his records – classic jazz and crooners. I played with his kitten and snapped my fingers along to Dexter Gordon. He played songs and I sung along to Ella Fitzgerald and Frank Sinatra. He put on an old Ray Charles album and got up to dance. He started twisting with enthusiasm. I felt suddenly awkward. Dancing with a stranger in his living room open to a busy pedestrian street is outside of my comfort zone, but I wasn’t going to sit there. That would be more awkward. So I danced. We danced for three songs and then I thanked him and left. It was a great experience. A brief connection.

I didn’t want to invade his hime by taking pictures of him, but I did take one of his kitten…and his foot.

I chilled out at my hotel in the evening, smoking cigars outside and in my room (just because I could). At about 11 pm I walked to the Fox and the Crow, nearby jazz bar and watched amazing jazz until nearly 1 am in an tiny underground bar.

And that was just one day.

The next day I did more of the same. Smoking, walking, reading, listing to buskers, drinking virgin piña coladas. It was perfect. I was actually happy to leave after two full days. I had what I wanted to do, soaked up the sun and the atmosphere; smoked more cigars than I can count. And then I was home.

I think that 2 days would not nearly be enough for a first visit to Havana, but for a second trip, for me, it was perfect. I’m sure I’ll go back for another two days of cuban cigar heaven.

Asia China Hong Kong

Hong Kong Layover (I didn’t like it, but it’s not Hong Kong’s fault)

I was excited when I found that I could schedule a day layover in Hong Kong on my flight back from Myanmar. I had never been to Hong Kong and never really had much desire, so it seemed like a great opportunity to get a taste and decide if I want to go back for more in the future. Now that I have been…I think I’m good. I would be happy to go back for another layover, but I won’t be planning to travel there as an endpoint. But let me be clear, there is nothing wrong with Hong Kong; it’s all me. And weather. (But mostly me.)

What was wrong with Hong Kong? Nothing really, it just didn’t impress, excite or intrigue me. I have traveled enough for this to not be a surprise. I was also failed to be excited by Shanghai, Taipei, and Seoul. All nice cities, but I prefer New Delhi, Istanbul, Bogota, and Tbilisi. Plus, and this is in no way Hong Kong’s fault, the weather was awful. It poured rain biblically. I was caught in it for a good hour before I found a shop selling umbrellas and I don’t think I recovered. The skies were grey and although the rain did not put a stop to my planned wandering, it did make it less pleasant. The final thing that was wrong – and is all my fault – is that I was tired. It was the final day of my travels and I had slept for maybe 2 hours. So factor all of that in.

It was cool to arrive in Hong Kong. This place that in my lifetime was a sovereign country, and then wasn’t. It is the namesake of one of my favourite Siouxsie and the Banshees songs. It seems like it could be opulent and seedy. I was excited to check it out.

The train from the airport was quick and serviceable and from there I transferred to a subway and began my planned strolls in what is the financial / business district. Cuff-links and suits. Tall buildings. Orderly streets. Dull looking cafes. (I already mentioned the rain.) I walked around around a bit. It was nice, but nothing really captured my attention.

I walked into a hilly, green park, which was objectively lovely and it was pleasant that it was so close to the financial hub, but the rain made anything other than a brief pass through unappealing.

I decided it was time to check out the other side of Victoria Harbour. I took the Star Ferry across. That I liked. Buying a thick, well worn, plastic token and riding the vintage boat to the other side of the harbour. The goal was in part to get a view of that classic Hong Kong skyline, which I did, obscured though it was by cloud and rain.

I walked for a while on the other side, on the boardwalk, which must be lovely on a sunny day, but I was deterred after an hour and took the boat back across, catching the first glimpses of blue sky.

I really liked the boat and the boardwalk. I have to say though that reminded me a lot of Vancouver on a larger scale.

From there I walked through other parts of the city. The rain eased up. I walked through very fancy shopping districts that, honestly, could have been in any major metropolis. I was on the hunt for an interesting neighbourhood. Something with character; maybe a market or some murals.

Maybe I just didn’t pick my route well, but I ended up walking through areas that were more interesting, with big ugly/appealing high rises and older streets that felt more seedy, but they also felt a bit like Chinatown districts in other cities. They were fine, but not captivating.

One bonus though was stumbling across a street presentation of Chinese dragons and drums.

I hunkered down in an appealing dive that advertised vegetarian noodle soup. I pointed at the sign with a smile and enjoyed a steaming bowl of tasty broth, veggies, tofu, and noodles. I was half way through my bowl when the waitress brought a side plate of 4 chicken wings. Had i been able to speak more words in Cantonese than thank you and hello (as I was only going to be there for a day I made no effort to learn more) I might have said, “Oh, i’m sorry, I didn’t order these.” But I couldn’t say that so I just ignored the plate of meat. When I paid for my meal and got up to leave, the server yelled at me, gesturing towards the wings. I have no idea why. I said “I’m sorry” and held my hands out, palms up, in that way that universally is supposed to suggest ‘I have nothing else to offer’ or something and left. Not a great interaction, but the soup was good.

After that I walked around more, but I didn’t see much of interest and eventually I just accepted that I was tired and wet and went back to the airport.

So my day in Hong Kong wasn’t bad, it just wasn’t that interesting. I know I could have planned an activity or gone to a major attraction like Tian Tan Buddha or gone to a museum or gallery, but I usually prefer to explore a city the first day by just walking the streets. I read up on the city ahead of time and planned a route, but maybe it just wasn’t the right one for me. I would definitely like to to back for another layover and see another area (ideally on more sleep and a sunny day), but for now, my takeaway is that Hong Kong seems like it would be a great place to live, but, for me, was not an exciting place to visit.
(Sorry.)

Asia Myanmar (Burma)

Saying Goodbye to Yangon

I returned to Yangon from Bagan, my trip nearly at an end. I had one and a half remaining days in Yangon before flying to Hong Kong. I had already seen everything I wanted to see in Yangon, so I figured I would just hang out and relax a little before the very long journey home and harsh transition from airport directly to office. I was happy to be back in Yangon. Bagan was magical and Mandalay was fine, but I really like Yangon. I find it so pleasant just to be there.

I stayed at the Backpacker Bed & Breakfast, which was a nice hostel in the centre. It was exactly what I wanted: Lots of travellers to chat with on a pleasant rooftop and very inexpensive. I met people both leaving and about the enter month long meditation retreats, which only reaffirmed my lack of desire to try such a thing. I met solo travelers and duos of all ages. Mostly women. All really nice. I shared my dorm with three pleasant French girls who spoke very little English but were clean and quiet. All good.

After hanging around for a while I went for a walk through Chinatown. I liked the walk particularly because in Yangon the streets are so enjoyable – full of food vendors, pretty buildings, color, and life – but Chinatown as a destination is sort of underwhelming.

But I did stumble across some good street markets and enjoyed the walk.

I stopped for a bowl of soup from a street vendor. I love the street soup in Myanmar. It is fantastic. I had already ordered soup from street vendors there a number of times, so I felt pretty confident. I knew how and what to order, I knew how it would be served (broth and noodles and spices all separate), and I knew roughly what it should cost (about 70c). I sat there, I smiled at the people sitting next to me, I felt superior to tourists who walked by with the obvious look of curiosity and intimidation on their faces about how to order from these unmarked stalls where English was not spoken (intimidation I had felt a week prior). I loaded my soup up with chili sauce and powder and began to eat. I was slurping up the delicious broth and noodles when I slurped too hard apparently because spicy hot broth forced itself into my nasal passages and out my nose. Suddenly my nose was on fire, my eyes watered uncontrollably and slammed shut. I was blind and my face was on fire. I fumbled for one of the rolls of toilet paper they had on the counter to use for napkins but dropped it and it rolled down the hill. I fumbled for another, but dropped it in my soup, which it promptly absorbed. I finally had to blow my nose and wipe my face in my scarf. I tried be cool, even as my face still burned from my nasal soup ingestion, but, had I been able to see, I’m sure everyone at the booth was snickering at me as I walked away. Once the pain subsided, I did think it was hilarious. I was still hungry though so I went to another small street stall a safe distance away and, successfully (and more humbly), had a whole bowl of incident-free shan noodle soup.

I headed back to the big market near the train station, browsed for a bit and then tried a Bumese cigar (not a cheroot, but an actual cigar). It was black and moist and not bad tasting but full of things that I am not sure were tobacco. It had a weird screaming eagle band on it. I didn’t mind it but didn’t bother to bring any back. I smoked it sitting at the ‘No. Coffee in Myanmar’ stand in the market, which did indeed have great coffee as well as a fan. It was a perfect place to avoid the heat and watch market activities.

After that, a bit more walking, and back to my hostel.

One thing that I think is amazing here, and really speaks to the kindness of people, is that most businesses have water pitchers and vessels outside with a tin cup. The purpose? To provide water to people because it is hot and water is vital. No one should have to pay to drink water or suffer from thirst, so they just provide it. I availed myself of this offering many times and was thankful for it.

Back at the hostel I reconnected with a guy I had met earlier in the day; a young fellow from South Africa traveling solo. We decided to check out a rooftop bar that promised to be sort of a club. It had the appropriate setting, music, lights, pricey cover charge, etc, but there was almost no one there. So we just sat and chatted and I had a cigar. Not the party he was hoping for, but I was totally fine with it, not being that keen on clubs to begin with.

The next day was more walking then I decided to see a movie. There was an American horror movie playing called Prodigy and there was air conditioning, so that was good enough for me. Interestingly, they played the national anthem before the movie started and everyone was required to stand in the tiny (maybe 30 seat) theatre. The movie was decent. The popcorn was appalling.

After my movie, I met up with my South African friend and we went to see the world’s largest Buddha, which, as it turns out is not the world’s largest (that is in Myanmar but not Yangon), but it was really big. We then meandered our way to the Shwedagon Pagoda as my friend wanted to watch the sunset and meditate at the pagoda. We didn’t make it there for the sunset, but we watched that from a pretty park next to a lake and ate ice cream.

When we got to the pagoda, I said my goodbye – I had been before and wasn’t interested in meditating, plus, I had a 1am flight to Hong Kong to pack for. I took a taxi back to the hostel.

Myanmar was pretty great. I liked it more than the other countries I have seen in South East Asia. It just had such an easy, friendly vibe, the travel was hassle free, and it was full of beautiful sights. I would even return. But the moment I had little time to reflect because I was on to a day in Hong Kong.

Asia Myanmar (Burma)

Bagan on Two Wheels

I had spent my first day in Bagan seeing the main temples on a tuk tuk. That was a perfect introduction. I basically saw everything I needed to see, complete with sunrise. Had that been my only day seeing Bagan it would have been fine. But a second day was perfect. For my second day I decided to strike out solo on an ebike.

I knew prior to going to Bagan that ebikes were a common way to see the temples, but I couldn’t find any concrete evidence of what an ebike in Myanmar was. Most people told me it would be a regular bicycle but with a motor that you could turn on to help go up hills. That sounded ok. I ride a bicycle. But they were wrong. This is what an ebike is in Bagan:

It is an electric scooter – like an electric Vespa. It is nothing like a bicycle and everything like a motorcycle or motor scooter. This may not seem like a big deal, but for me it was. I don’t drive. I’ve never tried it. Never had a license. Never experienced control of a motorized vehicle. I’d never used a key to start anything. I was in a wheelchair briefly after a bad accident and even that was manual and not electric. So the idea of controlling a key operated, electric vehicle on two wheels was crazy.

Of course I tried it.

The guy at my hotel spent an agonizing 10 minutes trying to explain to me how to operate it. It was hard to get a handle on the speed and turns, but I got it eventually, and rented a scooter for the day, which cost the equivalent of about $5 Canadian. Helmets not provided.

The scooter was…amazing. It went quite fast; up to 80 km/hour, though I stayed at around half that. The experience was one of the greatest I have had. I felt so free. I went so fast, zipping along the paved road with cars and other vehicles (ok, they were going faster). I could cover so much ground and go wherever I wanted. I felt like I finally understood all of those 1950s rock songs about cars. I had found the open road and it felt like home. I started to fantasize about returning to Canada and getting my motorcycle license, joining a gang, and getting a tough nickname…at that point I nearly wiped out, so I decided to focus on the task at hand.

I went up and down the two main roads, stopping where I liked. Whenever I saw a temple in the distance that I wanted to check out, I simply left the road and bounced along the sand or a rocky path. This allowed me to see a lot of smaller temples, many of which were free of visitors. I also visited a small market and some paths around villages.

I went to one temple cluster and a man there was sweeping, which was, at it turns out, his job. Sweeping sand off of temples that sat in the middle of an expanse of sand. He spoke a little English and showed me a flight of narrow stairs up to the top of one of the temples. I climbed up and sat in the shade of the stupa, smoking a Burmese cheroot.

The man came to join me and we chatted a bit. He asked me about Christmas. His daughter was born on Christmas but he didn’t know much about it. I tried to explain about Santa, which sounds so crazy when you really think about it.

I stopped for lunch at a restaurant that was really just a collection of plastic tables and chairs and a bunch of portable cooking equipment. Great food. Unbelievably inexpensive.

I went back to one of the bigger temples I had seen the day before as it had a bunch of stalls selling crafts and textiles. I bought a scarf and watched a woman with multiple neck-elongating brass rings around her neck weaving fabric.

Eventually I was exhausted and went back to my room for a rest before meeting the Italian man I had met on the boat from Mandalay. He picked my up on his ebike and we went to New Bagan for dinner but only after finding the perfect temple from which to watch the sunset. He knew there was one perfect spot and we drove around asking people until he found it – it was the same one I had stood on the previous morning to watch the sunrise. I suppose there is some balance to that.

I finished the evening back at my hotel, sitting along the Irrawaddy River, enjoying a cigar until I began to doze.

The next morning I caught a super early flight to Yangon and began slowly making my way home.

Asia Myanmar (Burma)

On the Temple Trail in Bagan

Bagan is the reason most people travel to Myanmar and I was no exception. Over 2000 temples dating back to the 11th C dotted over a small area. It is flat, so in any direction the skyline is punctuated with stupas, some glittering and others stone, rising up to the sky. They are everywhere and the area isn’t particularly built up, so it is easy to feel like you are off on your own on, discovering an ancient civilization.

There are two Bagans: Old and New. The Old Bagan is in the archeological zone and the New Bagan is a small city, where most of the hostels, hotels, and commercial stuff is. I decided to stay in Old Bagan because I liked the idea that I was steps away from the wonders I traveled there to see. I will say though that there are only a handful of hotels in Old Bagan, they are a bit expensive (by Myanmar standards), and there is nothing to do in the evening, so as a solo traveler it may not have been the best choice, but my hotel was so lovely that I didn’t mind.

I stayed at the Bagan Thande Hotel, which is really like a collection of cottages on beautiful treed grounds along the river. The room wasn’t special but the setting was. The night I checked in, I sat at the outdoor bar and restaurant and smoked cigars in the dark, while live music was played. Very nice.

But that first night I also had to make plans for the next day to see the temples. One has options for visiting the temples. You can walk to some, but they are spread out so some sort of conveyance is needed. The options are: taxi, tuk tuk, bicycle, ebike, and horse drawn carts. A taxi would be dull. A horse cart would be slow and bumpy. Bikes would be fun, but hot and exhausting. And I was initially nervous about the ebike, so I went with the tuk tuk. It was a good option. I didn’t really have to decide what to see; the driver just took me on a 10 hour trip around to see all of the best temples.

We started at 5:30am so I could climb up one of the temples to see the sun rise. A lot of other people had the same idea, so there was about 20 of us standing in the dark, cameras ready, watching the sky lighten. People are annoying, but I had some excellent 60s lounge exotica music that i listened to on my headphones, which set the mood. (Ultra Lounge Mondo Exotica to be precise. Cheesy and awesome.) I felt like handing out breath mints to the other sunrise chasers. A lot of bad breath first thing in the morning it seems. But that did nothing to dampen the beauty of watching the sky turn orange and seeing the temples revealed.

Wonderfully, as the sun came up, about 20 hot air balloons rose into the air, adding a certain whimsical aspect.

It was wonderful. But it got better.

The temples are incredible. They are big and small, gold, white, ochre, and stone. Each with Buddhas inside and some with elaborate interior paintings. Some were very busy with tourists and people praying. Others I had all to myself. Some were just off the main, paved road, and others were reached only down sandy and rocky paths.

They are all a bit similar, but I found each so enthralling that I didn’t tire of them. I loved the architecture and the decoration, the incense and offerings. They felt sacred, even when hosting dozens of camera happy visitors. (Me included.)

I’ll let the photos speak for themselves.

We also visited a market in New Bagan…or maybe it was in Nyaung U (a small, nearby town). It was a really good market. Handicrafts, vegetables, candy, meat, and fish. I walked every row and walked away with a traditional tattoo device (basically a long, ornate, metal stabby thing) and a marionette head that is so creepy i’m not sure i can keep it in my home.

I walked down one row and came across an area where men and women were sorting the fermented tea leaves that form the basis for many of the delicious salads in Myanmar. They do eat tea here and it is great when mixed with sesame, ginger, garlic. I said to them how much I liked laphet thoke (pronounced la-pay toe), the main tea leaf salad. Or rather I said “Laphet thoke?” And when they smiled and nodded, I gave a thumbs up. My attempt at making a connection. I didn’t exactly learn much Burmese ahead of time. At that moment, a teenage girl eating a plate of tea leaf salad while working, stood up, brought her plate over to me, and popped her spoonful of tea leaves into my mouth. Now that’s hospitality.

More market wandering and then I was back on the temple trail.

My day was supposed to end with me watching the sun set from a temple but I was exhausted. Plus, I mean, I saw the sun rise. A sun set is basically the same thing in reverse, so I returned to my hotel in the gloaming and fell asleep while smoking a cigar in a chair by the river. An amazing day. The next would bring more temples as I set out on my own.

Asia Myanmar (Burma)

Boat to Bagan

As I had already taken the train in Myanmar (from Yangon to Mandalay) I decided to go from Mandalay to Bagan by boat. There are a few options and the prices and vessels are all quite similar. You leave Mandalay at 5:30 am or so and arrive in Bagan about 11 hours later. Many of the trips also involve stopping at a village along the way. I took the Alliance Myanmar boat and that was its itinerary.

The boat ride was pleasant. On the main level were very comfortable seats and air conditioning. On the top level was a bar and covered table seating and an area in the sun with reclining chairs.

It went by quickly. There was the initial excitement of watching the sun rise over the Irrawaddy River, then breakfast.

After that i smoked a cigar and watched dilapidated vessels sail by, as well as small fishing boats and a lot of boats set up to look for gold in the river. People waved at us as we passed.

Near Mandalay and Bagan, the landscape was heavily adorned with stupas and Buddhas. In between it was flat and dry.

The stop at the village was a nice interlude. The village grew peanuts, which they shelled and offered to us raw and boiled. They made hats, which were for sale. Mostly, we were shown around. Everyone was so friendly. I’m guessing (i hope) they get some money from the boat company; we were told not to give money to anyone unless buying something.

We arrived in Bagan, right on schedule, just as the sun was setting. I took a taxi to my hotel. En route I could see the silhouettes of dozens of temples that I would explore the next day.

Asia Myanmar (Burma)

A Picturesque Bridge & Bothersome Pervert

My second day in Mandalay I started by taking a tuk tuk to the U Bein bridge, which is on the outskirts of the city. The drive was pleasant and the bridge picturesque, with a cluster of outside drink vendors and souvenir hawkers at one end.

The bridge is apparently the oldest and the (once?) longest teakwood bridge in the world. That is such an oddly specific category that it failed to impress me. Honestly, one could skip the bridge. It is quite pretty, but not amazing. Still, I am glad I went. The scenery was lovely and the drive was nice.

I had the driver take me back to my hotel after, but stopped along the way when a temple of note popped up roadside and generally snapped some puctures from the tuk tuk.

I went to the Zegyo market, or at least part of it (it is massive) and poked around and walked the streets around the market, which were bustling with commerce.

In the afternoon i did a walking version / variation of a suggested bicycle route in the Lonely Planet. This was a good walk as it took me through some more interesting neighbourhoods had I had seen the previous day in Mandalay. There was a really pretty path along a small river with small houses on one side and people doing laundry or having beers by the river.

The only downside to this walk was one guy who fan ahead of me on a part of the path that had the river on one side and only a high fence on the other. I saw him facing into the trees and I assumed he was peeing, but as I passed, I saw through my peripheral vision that he turned to face me and was masturbating. Moaning and whatnot. I ignored him and walked by. He ran ahead of me and did the same thing. Again, I ignored him. After that second time, he ran up behind me and said “Hey!” I turned around and he was standing there in the middle of the road, dick out, in his hand. Like he thought I hadn’t noticed him before. He took a step towards me and I walked towards him, yelling, “You get the fuck away from me or I’ll cut your fucking throat!” As I said that last bit, I motioned with my thumb across my neck. He obviously got the message and ran away. I carried on with my walk, initially annoyed that this pervert interrupted my stroll and forced me to unleash upon him with with vitriolic death threat (albeit an empty one – I didn’t even have a weapon). But I quickly put it behind me.

I crossed the river and walked up to and along the bank of the Irrawaddy River, to a tallish hotel with a rooftop bar, where I escaped the sun for a while with a cigar and a virgin piña colada.

I took a tuk tuk back to the hotel (it had been a long walk and I had no interest in doing it in reverse).

I spent the evening on the rooftop of my hotel reading and smoking. Ready to get up super early to catch a boat to Bagan.

Asia Myanmar (Burma)

Mandalay day one

Mandalay does not make a great first impression. Stepping out from the train station, it didn’t have the charm of Yangon. The buildings are newer and unattractive. There are a lot of wide, busy roads. The traffic is orderly, but motorcycles are allowed here (unlike Yangon) so it is busier. It just didn’t have charm that I saw.

I decided to walk from the train station to my hotel. Maybe 25 blocks, but it felt longer as the walk was just not that scenic and the blocks were long. I did see the moat and walls around the palace, but they were several lanes of traffic away.

As I got nearer to my hotel, I did pass a street that had a lively market and street side food vendors started appearing, but I still wasn’t that taken with it.

My hotel was decent though. The Hotel Aurora. I picked it because it had a good location and a rooftop restaurant. My room was so nice, with a fluffy bed, excellent shower and loads of free toiletries (all of which are now in my bag). I know those things may seem commonplace, but I usually slum it a bit more, so I was happy. I checked in early and took a moto taxi to the palace.

The Mandaly Palace is a big central palace complex dating to the mid 1800s. It is a fine place to visit, but many of the buildings are identical, so I didn’t feel the need to stay long.

I took a tuk tuk to the base of Mandalay Hill, which is a long climb up 700+ stairs, past and through temples, stupas, etc. It is am exhausting but picturesque journey. Annoyingly you have to take shoes and socks off a lot on the climb as you pass through sacred sites (that’s what i get for wearing boots), but it is all quite pleasant aside from my boot unlacing and scrambling over sun-scorched tiles.

The top gives views out over the city.

When finished, I took an outdoor elevator down about four floors to a parking lot where my tuk tuk was waiting.

I had him drop me off back at the palace and I walked from there.

Here is what I realized about Mandalay on the first day: 1) things are really spread out, so walking, while possible, is a long and hot business; 2) moto, tuk tuk, bicycle, and car taxis are everywhere but you have to haggle to get good price; 3) there are an ASTONISHING about of pagodas, temples, and stupas here. They are everywhere. Imagine that every cafe in Seattle or Vancouver was replaced with a gilded, ornate temple. It’s a little overwhelming.

From the palace i walked down a quieter street and happened upon a cafe by a marionette theatre, where I bought a ticket for the evening performance. I also met the puppet master, a thin and old-looking 89 year old man. Any references to the 1980s horror classic were lost in translation.

I had lunch at a sidewalk stand (another glorious bowl of noodle soup for less than $1), walked some more, and spent the evening prior to the puppets on the rooftop of my hotel chatting with a Dutch couple traveling south east Asia for six months.

I took a tuk tuk to the theatre. The show was good. It had a band playing traditional music and they did various marionette scenes of dance and animal antics.

After the show I did not want to walk the ~20 blocks back to the hotel so I took a “taxi”. Most of the other audience members had pre-arranged their transport so the cars and tuk tuks out front were taken. But there was another option: A man with a rickety bicycle to which was attached a side car. He said he would charge 2000 kyat. (That’s a little less than $2 cdn.) Done. I hopped into side car and off we went. Slowly. The man riding the bike was old. He may have been as young as mid-60s, but he looked about 80. But he peddled me all the way to my hotel through traffic. I must admit to feeling a little uncomfortable having not only a human being, but a senior citizen, cycle me home. The longer we rode, the higher grew the tip I felt obliged to pay, until, when he dropped me off, it had reached 5000 kyat. I felt he deserved it and it absolved me of my awkwardness.

The rickshaw man who ferried me home from the theatre

And that was day one in Mandalay. I went to bed with no idea of my plans for the next day.

Wandering North

Tag: solo travel

Arrival in Baku

London Layover

Weekend in Havana

Hong Kong Layover (I didn’t like it, but it’s not Hong Kong’s fault)

Saying Goodbye to Yangon

Bagan on Two Wheels

On the Temple Trail in Bagan

Boat to Bagan

A Picturesque Bridge & Bothersome Pervert

Mandalay day one