I left Mawlamyine on the morning of the 1st by boat up the wide Salween heading to the Karen town of Hpa-an. Ferries used to run this route, but have just recently died off as the roads have been improved and new bridges built. Local people prefer to take faster buses. The hotel I stayed in, however, has a boat almost every day, if enough tourists are interested. Nine of us were interested on that morning, with each paying about $8.50, more than four times the bus fare. But the journey upriver was very pleasant and scenic. We sat in comfortable plastic chairs, two across in the narrow boat, with a covering to protect us from the sun. We left about 8:30, hugging the riverbanks to avoid the swifter current in the middle of the river. The scenery at first was mainly flat, with pagodas on top of hills in the distance. We passed several riverside villages without electricity. There wasn't a lot of other boat traffic, but there was some, both fishermen in small boats and larger cargo boats. It took us about five hours, with a half an hour or so stop about midway, to make our way to Hpa-an, only 35 or 40 miles upriver. The last part was particularly scenic, with lots of steep sided craggy hills on both sides of the river. They rise almost straight up out of the flat landscape. Just east of Hpa-an is the particularly impressive massif of Mount Zwegabin, rising to 2372 feet.
Hpa-an (the H signifies there is an aspiration, or a puff of air, before the p) is a small town and the capital of Kayin (or Karen) State. Several of us checked into a cheap ($6 a room for a single) but pretty good backpacker hotel run by the Soe Brothers, a local Karen family. I was hungry and ate a big late lunch about 3 and then walked to the river. A pagoda with a golden zedi, or stupa, stands right on the riverbank. I walked a little north and watched all the activity at a boat landing. Small boats were passing from a village across the wide river, while others were going up and down the river. A few larger wooden boats passed by. Up and down the river were great views of those craggy, steep sided hills. Eventually, I walked into the pagoda and watched the sunset over the wide river from a terrace. Quite a few townsfolk were also there for the end of the day. The river was still full of boat traffic. I sat for a while and watched all the activity, including a cigarette smoking, red robed monk. Another monk sat down next to me and chatted away in Burmese or Karen or whatever he spoke.
Other than the pagoda and the river, there is not much to see in Hpa-an itself, so the next morning I joined with seven others for a tour the Soe Brothers put together of sites in the hinterland. We were driven around in a sort of carriage powered by a converted motorcycle and it was comfortable enough. We headed downriver a few miles to the bridge over the river, crossed it, and reached a cave, the Kawgun Cave, in one of the steep sided crags on the other side of the river. This cave reached several stories high, with thousands of little clay Buddhas attached to the walls and ceiling of the cave, dating back hundreds of years, at least to the 14th century, I think, but maybe older. Below are much newer and larger statues of Buddha.
From there we drove through rice fields and past more steep sided rocky hills to another cave, the Yathaypyan Cave, similar to Kawgun but with fewer Buddhas. However, in Yathaypyan you can walk through it for about ten minutes to an opening overlooking a pond or river. Unfortunately, however, you are required not to wear shoes to enter the cave. Thus I trod barefoot through the rocky, up and down, dark passage through the cave to the opening at the end. Inevitably, I stubbed my little toe on a jagged rock on the floor. It bled profusely, but I was able to wash it when I got out. I tore off a big piece of skin and was worried about keeping it clean, but it has healed well.
We recrossed the river and headed towards towering Mount Zwegabin, stopping at Kyauk Kalap, a towering pinacle of steep rock with a pagoda on top. You can go up stairs part way, but are not allowed up the bamboo ladders to the very top. Surrounded by a pond, it has great views of Zwegabin and the rice fields and other hills around it.
About 12 we had a lunch stop and then made our way south along a maze of little roads to Saddar Cave. It has some Buddhas and pagodas at its mouth, but then there is a very high ceilinged passage, several stories high and equally wide, through which you can pass to an exit after maybe a fifteen minute walk. This time I carried my sandals with me through the part of the cave with Buddhas and pagodas and then put them on once we reached the rough floored dark passage. Fortunately, someone turned on lights than ran through the passage, making it much easier to pass. There were bats hanging above, and bat guano on the floor. It was a bit slippery at places. At the exit is a little lake with craggy hills all around. Boatmen (and women) wait there to ferry you back to the entrance for a fee, paddling you across the lake to a low overhang that is the entrance to a water filled low cave with an exit on the other side. Emerging, you are paddled and polled past rice fields and craggy hills. Much of the watery course seems to be fenced off into fish ponds. Quite a nice journey. From there we headed back to town, about an hour's journey in the late afternoon. Back in town several of us went to the pagoda on the river to enjoy the sunset and all the activity on the river and in the pagoda.
The next morning I walked to Hpa-an's colorful morning market to search for quail eggs. I didn't find any, but I did find a big bag of peanuts and soon after 7 took a motorcycle taxi about ten miles east to the start of the footpath up to the top of Mount Zwegabin. It felt cool zipping along on a motorcycle in the early morning air. We passed through a sort of canyon between Zwegabin and the craggy hill to the south. At the foot of Zwegabin are, reputedly, 1021 Buddha statues, spread out over several acres. I motorcycled and then walked past a good many of them and then began the steep climb up to the top, a climb of about 2200 feet according to my altimeter. I climbed up the west side, shaded in the early morning and with lots of trees. The stairs and paths, more stairs than paths, were irregular but not bad. About halfway up I reached a spot where I had a good view to the east and stopped for a while to eat some peanuts and drink water. From there on the views just kept getting better, down the steep slopes and out over the plains filled with steep, craggy hills. I reached the top after a little more than two hours, with my altimeter pretty close to the 2372 foot reputed elevation of the mountain. Three other tourists had preceded me to the top and there were monks up there, too. A golden stupa on a platform, with a monastery all around, dominates the top. The views are fantastic, especially to the north, where a further ridge has four more golden zedis (stupas), with Hpa-an and the Salween beyond. The air was fresh and cool up there, too, and I sat and relaxed and ate more peanuts as I enjoyed the views. I could pick out many of the places I had visited the day before.
After about 45 minutes, I started down. I could have happily spent several hours up there, but I wanted to get down before it became too hot. It took me about an hour and a half to walk down, much hotter than the trip up, and eventually plodding down all those stairs became pretty wearying. I spotted a couple of monkeys on the way down and passed other tourists coming up. I got down about noon, drank a liter of water, and then took a motorcycle taxi back to Hpa-an. On the way I marveled at how steep and high the mountain seemed as we sped by its western flank. In town I changed some dollars into kyat at a bank at the rate of 977 to 1 and then had a big lunch.
About 3 I took a boat across the wide Salween to a little village at the base of another steep sided rocky hill, called Hpan Pu. I walked through the village to the base of the hill, right along the river, and on the way spotted a wiry middle aged man high up a sugar palm tree. He had ascended on bamboo ladders attached to the slim ttunk and was pouring palm wine that had collected in bamboo containers into his own bamboo container hanging on a strap around his chest. He climbed down and offered me a taste, motioning with his finger that I should dip my finger into it. I did so and licked my finger and got a taste of the toddy, very sweet and tasty and not too alcoholic. It gets much more alcoholic with time. I watched him climb another tree to repeat the process and he offered me another taste when he climbed down, which I was happy to accept. It is quite tasty.
I started the climb up Hpan Pu, with stairs and paths much rougher than at Zwegabin and climbed about 400 feet before reaching a spot where a landslide had obliterated the path. I tried to cross, but the rocks and dirt kept sliding and I decided against going further. Hpan Pu is much lower than Zwegabin, so I wasn't much below the top. Three other tourists came up and we sat together to enjoy the fantastic views of the river and town and the countryside beyond, especially Mount Zwegabin. We stayed until sunset and then made our way down and to the river, where we took a boat across just before dark.
The next morning I again walked to the market early, before 7, and spent about an hour looking around. All the women had the yellow thanakha on their faces, and some wore conical hats. Vegetables and fruit and flowers were on sale, and much else, including cooked food. There were plenty of butchers. I saw a basin full of duck heads and many defeathered chickens with their lower legs and claws still attached. One guy brought in a fish that looked like a catfish and must have been at least five feet long. It was quickly chopped up, with a little crowd watching. The market was crowded and messy, but the people were very friendly and very polite.
About 10 I left on a bus headed north to Kyaikto, back in Mon State. The bus was fairly modern, but with poorly functioning air conditioning and a distracting video. Plus I had a big guy snoring right behind me. My favorite part of the slapsticky video, which often elicited chuckles from my fellow passengers, was a scene where a young women played a violin to a soundtrack of the theme from Titanic, but played on a clarinet. We passed through flat countryside for the most part, with some rice but much of it uncultivated. There were groves of rubber trees.
We reached Kyaikto about 1 o'clock and I boarded a pick up for the short, maybe 20 minute, ride to the small town on Kinpun, where I checked into a hotel. Kinpun is the base for visiting Mount Kyaiktiyo, the Golden Rock, and I should have taken the truck up to see it that afternoon, but I had bad information on how long it took to get up there, so I didn't go. I did have lunch and watched the trucks full of pilgrims coming and going. Burmese can stay the night up there in hostels, but foreigners must stay in expensive hotels if they want to spend the night up there. Towards nightfall lots of pilgrims who had come down the mountain were leaving Kinpun in very crowded pick ups, with many sitting on the roofs of the covered back portions. All seemed in a very good mood. There were thousands and thousands of pilgrims.
The next morning soon after 7 I did leave on one of the crowded trucks up the mountain. The trucks were similar to the ones I had taken near Mawlamyine, but better. The seats were padded, though still very narrow, and some trucks, including mine, had metal backs to the seats. I also got a seat in the front row, with more leg room. You board by climbing up stairs to platforms in a big shed and then climbing over the metal rails of the big trucks. We were all packed tightly and I was the only foreigner on the truck. It took us about an hour to climb through the hills to Kyaiktiyo, rising from about 300 feet elevation at Kinpun to about 3600 at Kyaiktiyo. ("Ky," by the way, is pronounced something like a "ch.") From the truck terminus it was only about a ten minute walk to the Golden Rock. My guidebook had said it was a 45 minute ride on the truck followed by a 45 minute to one hour walk to the top, but obviously there is now a road all the way.
There is quite a large complex on the top, and at the edge is a huge, precariously balanced, gold covered boulder with a golden stupa on top. It is considered one of the holiest shrines in Burma, which accounts for all the tourists. A hair of the Buddha encased in the stupa is supposed to keep the boulder properly balanced. The morning was sunny, with wonderful views of the surrounding hills. I spent about an hour walking around, enjoying the views of the countryside below and the pilgrims around the Golden Rock. Only men can cross onto the terrace right next to the boulder, where most affix splotches of gold from little patches of paper, the little squares of paper constantly fluttering down after they are discarded. There are several different terraces with interesting views of the rock, and the pilgrims are interesting to watch. At the very top of the mountain is a tree or two with statues all around. A red robed monk sat meditating among them.
I enjoyed walking around and watching everything, but as it became warmer in mid morning the number of pilgrims diminished. I had planned to spend the day up there, but thought about descending and heading further north. Eventually, I decided to hang around and took a walk to a couple of nearby, lower hilltops, passing the pilgrim hostels and shops along the way. The walk wasn't all that interesting but for a couple of shops that had some interesting little bottles of perhaps liquor, or medicine, or both. They contained some weird vegetation in the liquid. There was some very odd food, too. At one spot, a guy with a branch of some sort of wood chopped off about an inch portion, maybe a half inch thick, scraped the side with his axe, and gave it to me to smell. It smelled very strongly of menthol, reminding me of Vicks Vaporub. I handed it back, but he made clear it was a present. The little piece of wood continued to smell for quite a while. I watched some young men playing chinlon, the game similar to volleyball but where you can use any part of your body other than your arms and hands to touch the ball. They were very skilful at kicking, kneeing and headbutting the wicker-like ball. I've also seen guys playing it in a circle, without a net.
I walked back and had lunch about noon at one of the many little restaurants and then sat there until about 3 reading and watching all the pilgrims come through. Some were dressed like hill people. It had clouded up by midday, but was sunny again in the late afternoon. I walked around some more and watched the pilgrims. A lot more pilgrims, and a lot more tourists, arrived towards the end of the afternoon. The sun set into the clouds to the west, imparting a wonderful glow to the Golden Rock just before the sun set. Once the sun got low I could see the Sittoung River to the west. The last truck down is supposed to leave at six. I got to the truck about 20 minutes before and we left just before 6. It took us only about a half hour to get down, under a crescent moon and Venus in the sky, the truck's light illuminating the forest on the way down.
About 9 the next morning I left Kinpun on a very comfortable bus, with functioning air conditioning, bound for Bago to the west. The buses in Burma certainly have improved since I was here 20 years ago. Back then public transportation was so uncomfortable that backpackers generally banded together to hire vans to see the country, which worked out very well. I saw more rubber drying on poles along the way. We crossed the Sittoung River on an old railroad bridge with the roadways later built on either side on the tracks and entered the Burmese heartland. Burma, or Myanmar as it is now officially known, is composed of seven states based on ethnicity and seven divisions where ethnic Bamars (70% of the country's population) predominate. The districts generally cover the long central valley of the Irrawaddy (now spelled Ayeyarwady) River while the states are on the mountainous border regions of the country, although it looks like there is more national territory in the states than in the districts.
After a lunch stop in Waw about 11, we arrived in Bago, formerly known as Pegu, about noon. This was a well known port to Europeans since the 16th century, I think, but the city was destroyed in the 18th century in the struggle between Bamars and Mons and despite some rebuilding never regained its past glory. I checked into a hotel on the main drag, the road to Yangon cutting through the center of town, and then took a motorcycle tour around the city sights. Bago has about 200,000 people, though it seemed smaller to me. We headed first to the Shwemawdaw Paya, another golden stupa, this one the highest in Burma at 376 feet. The gold glared in the midday sun. This stupa has collapsed and been repaired many times over the centuries. A 1930 earthquake completely leveled it, and alongside the present stupa is the big, brick, upper portion of the stupa destroyed in a 1917 earthquake. I slowly walked around it, with temples all around and a few worshipers there at midday.
From there we drove to a monastery housing a 20 foot long python, supposedly the reincarnation of a previous abbot that found its way to the monastery from somewhere in the north. It was sleeping on a bench with a guy sitting next to it. I was told it eats either 11 pounds or 11 kilos of chicken every week or so. I was also told it is 125 years old. It is quite thick, maybe almost a foot at the thickest. There are a few photos of old monks with it draped around their necks.
We next visited a monastery said to have about 600 monks and I saw about 200 young ones studying in a big hall. Our next stops were big Buddhas, four standing ones of maybe 40 feet and a reclining one about 250 feet long, all recently built. Next was Mahazedi Paya, built in the 16th century, destroyed in the 1757 sacking of Bago, leveled again in the 1930 earthquake, and rebuilt in 1982 with a white base and a gold spire. I climbed up the lower portion, ascending about 90 feet and over a hundred stairs, for great views of the town, including the reclining Buddha and the golden Shwemawdaw Paya. Nearby was another stupa that you could enter to see 64 Buddhas side by side in the circular chamber. Our last stop was at the Shwethalyaung Buddha, a reclining Buddha 180 feet long housed in a large shed. It, too, had been destroyed in the 1757 sacking and was not rebuilt until 1881.
By about 4:30 I was back at the hotel and took a walk around the town center for about an hour. Just a block or two from the main street there was some very substandard housing in what looked like a very decrepit old building. I also ventured over to the decrepit old train station to check about trains to Yangon, and then returned to my hotel through a street market. The hotel's electricity came on about 6 and I even had air conditioning in my room. I had dinner in a restaurant with a menu featuring "Goat Fighting Balls," which I think are testicles. You could get them dry, cabob (a kebab of testicles, I suppose), sweet, with mustard, with beans, and with cauliflower. You could also get goat brains. I can't remember what I had for dinner that night, but I know it wasn't anything from a goat.
Hpa-an (the H signifies there is an aspiration, or a puff of air, before the p) is a small town and the capital of Kayin (or Karen) State. Several of us checked into a cheap ($6 a room for a single) but pretty good backpacker hotel run by the Soe Brothers, a local Karen family. I was hungry and ate a big late lunch about 3 and then walked to the river. A pagoda with a golden zedi, or stupa, stands right on the riverbank. I walked a little north and watched all the activity at a boat landing. Small boats were passing from a village across the wide river, while others were going up and down the river. A few larger wooden boats passed by. Up and down the river were great views of those craggy, steep sided hills. Eventually, I walked into the pagoda and watched the sunset over the wide river from a terrace. Quite a few townsfolk were also there for the end of the day. The river was still full of boat traffic. I sat for a while and watched all the activity, including a cigarette smoking, red robed monk. Another monk sat down next to me and chatted away in Burmese or Karen or whatever he spoke.
Other than the pagoda and the river, there is not much to see in Hpa-an itself, so the next morning I joined with seven others for a tour the Soe Brothers put together of sites in the hinterland. We were driven around in a sort of carriage powered by a converted motorcycle and it was comfortable enough. We headed downriver a few miles to the bridge over the river, crossed it, and reached a cave, the Kawgun Cave, in one of the steep sided crags on the other side of the river. This cave reached several stories high, with thousands of little clay Buddhas attached to the walls and ceiling of the cave, dating back hundreds of years, at least to the 14th century, I think, but maybe older. Below are much newer and larger statues of Buddha.
From there we drove through rice fields and past more steep sided rocky hills to another cave, the Yathaypyan Cave, similar to Kawgun but with fewer Buddhas. However, in Yathaypyan you can walk through it for about ten minutes to an opening overlooking a pond or river. Unfortunately, however, you are required not to wear shoes to enter the cave. Thus I trod barefoot through the rocky, up and down, dark passage through the cave to the opening at the end. Inevitably, I stubbed my little toe on a jagged rock on the floor. It bled profusely, but I was able to wash it when I got out. I tore off a big piece of skin and was worried about keeping it clean, but it has healed well.
We recrossed the river and headed towards towering Mount Zwegabin, stopping at Kyauk Kalap, a towering pinacle of steep rock with a pagoda on top. You can go up stairs part way, but are not allowed up the bamboo ladders to the very top. Surrounded by a pond, it has great views of Zwegabin and the rice fields and other hills around it.
About 12 we had a lunch stop and then made our way south along a maze of little roads to Saddar Cave. It has some Buddhas and pagodas at its mouth, but then there is a very high ceilinged passage, several stories high and equally wide, through which you can pass to an exit after maybe a fifteen minute walk. This time I carried my sandals with me through the part of the cave with Buddhas and pagodas and then put them on once we reached the rough floored dark passage. Fortunately, someone turned on lights than ran through the passage, making it much easier to pass. There were bats hanging above, and bat guano on the floor. It was a bit slippery at places. At the exit is a little lake with craggy hills all around. Boatmen (and women) wait there to ferry you back to the entrance for a fee, paddling you across the lake to a low overhang that is the entrance to a water filled low cave with an exit on the other side. Emerging, you are paddled and polled past rice fields and craggy hills. Much of the watery course seems to be fenced off into fish ponds. Quite a nice journey. From there we headed back to town, about an hour's journey in the late afternoon. Back in town several of us went to the pagoda on the river to enjoy the sunset and all the activity on the river and in the pagoda.
The next morning I walked to Hpa-an's colorful morning market to search for quail eggs. I didn't find any, but I did find a big bag of peanuts and soon after 7 took a motorcycle taxi about ten miles east to the start of the footpath up to the top of Mount Zwegabin. It felt cool zipping along on a motorcycle in the early morning air. We passed through a sort of canyon between Zwegabin and the craggy hill to the south. At the foot of Zwegabin are, reputedly, 1021 Buddha statues, spread out over several acres. I motorcycled and then walked past a good many of them and then began the steep climb up to the top, a climb of about 2200 feet according to my altimeter. I climbed up the west side, shaded in the early morning and with lots of trees. The stairs and paths, more stairs than paths, were irregular but not bad. About halfway up I reached a spot where I had a good view to the east and stopped for a while to eat some peanuts and drink water. From there on the views just kept getting better, down the steep slopes and out over the plains filled with steep, craggy hills. I reached the top after a little more than two hours, with my altimeter pretty close to the 2372 foot reputed elevation of the mountain. Three other tourists had preceded me to the top and there were monks up there, too. A golden stupa on a platform, with a monastery all around, dominates the top. The views are fantastic, especially to the north, where a further ridge has four more golden zedis (stupas), with Hpa-an and the Salween beyond. The air was fresh and cool up there, too, and I sat and relaxed and ate more peanuts as I enjoyed the views. I could pick out many of the places I had visited the day before.
After about 45 minutes, I started down. I could have happily spent several hours up there, but I wanted to get down before it became too hot. It took me about an hour and a half to walk down, much hotter than the trip up, and eventually plodding down all those stairs became pretty wearying. I spotted a couple of monkeys on the way down and passed other tourists coming up. I got down about noon, drank a liter of water, and then took a motorcycle taxi back to Hpa-an. On the way I marveled at how steep and high the mountain seemed as we sped by its western flank. In town I changed some dollars into kyat at a bank at the rate of 977 to 1 and then had a big lunch.
About 3 I took a boat across the wide Salween to a little village at the base of another steep sided rocky hill, called Hpan Pu. I walked through the village to the base of the hill, right along the river, and on the way spotted a wiry middle aged man high up a sugar palm tree. He had ascended on bamboo ladders attached to the slim ttunk and was pouring palm wine that had collected in bamboo containers into his own bamboo container hanging on a strap around his chest. He climbed down and offered me a taste, motioning with his finger that I should dip my finger into it. I did so and licked my finger and got a taste of the toddy, very sweet and tasty and not too alcoholic. It gets much more alcoholic with time. I watched him climb another tree to repeat the process and he offered me another taste when he climbed down, which I was happy to accept. It is quite tasty.
I started the climb up Hpan Pu, with stairs and paths much rougher than at Zwegabin and climbed about 400 feet before reaching a spot where a landslide had obliterated the path. I tried to cross, but the rocks and dirt kept sliding and I decided against going further. Hpan Pu is much lower than Zwegabin, so I wasn't much below the top. Three other tourists came up and we sat together to enjoy the fantastic views of the river and town and the countryside beyond, especially Mount Zwegabin. We stayed until sunset and then made our way down and to the river, where we took a boat across just before dark.
The next morning I again walked to the market early, before 7, and spent about an hour looking around. All the women had the yellow thanakha on their faces, and some wore conical hats. Vegetables and fruit and flowers were on sale, and much else, including cooked food. There were plenty of butchers. I saw a basin full of duck heads and many defeathered chickens with their lower legs and claws still attached. One guy brought in a fish that looked like a catfish and must have been at least five feet long. It was quickly chopped up, with a little crowd watching. The market was crowded and messy, but the people were very friendly and very polite.
About 10 I left on a bus headed north to Kyaikto, back in Mon State. The bus was fairly modern, but with poorly functioning air conditioning and a distracting video. Plus I had a big guy snoring right behind me. My favorite part of the slapsticky video, which often elicited chuckles from my fellow passengers, was a scene where a young women played a violin to a soundtrack of the theme from Titanic, but played on a clarinet. We passed through flat countryside for the most part, with some rice but much of it uncultivated. There were groves of rubber trees.
We reached Kyaikto about 1 o'clock and I boarded a pick up for the short, maybe 20 minute, ride to the small town on Kinpun, where I checked into a hotel. Kinpun is the base for visiting Mount Kyaiktiyo, the Golden Rock, and I should have taken the truck up to see it that afternoon, but I had bad information on how long it took to get up there, so I didn't go. I did have lunch and watched the trucks full of pilgrims coming and going. Burmese can stay the night up there in hostels, but foreigners must stay in expensive hotels if they want to spend the night up there. Towards nightfall lots of pilgrims who had come down the mountain were leaving Kinpun in very crowded pick ups, with many sitting on the roofs of the covered back portions. All seemed in a very good mood. There were thousands and thousands of pilgrims.
The next morning soon after 7 I did leave on one of the crowded trucks up the mountain. The trucks were similar to the ones I had taken near Mawlamyine, but better. The seats were padded, though still very narrow, and some trucks, including mine, had metal backs to the seats. I also got a seat in the front row, with more leg room. You board by climbing up stairs to platforms in a big shed and then climbing over the metal rails of the big trucks. We were all packed tightly and I was the only foreigner on the truck. It took us about an hour to climb through the hills to Kyaiktiyo, rising from about 300 feet elevation at Kinpun to about 3600 at Kyaiktiyo. ("Ky," by the way, is pronounced something like a "ch.") From the truck terminus it was only about a ten minute walk to the Golden Rock. My guidebook had said it was a 45 minute ride on the truck followed by a 45 minute to one hour walk to the top, but obviously there is now a road all the way.
There is quite a large complex on the top, and at the edge is a huge, precariously balanced, gold covered boulder with a golden stupa on top. It is considered one of the holiest shrines in Burma, which accounts for all the tourists. A hair of the Buddha encased in the stupa is supposed to keep the boulder properly balanced. The morning was sunny, with wonderful views of the surrounding hills. I spent about an hour walking around, enjoying the views of the countryside below and the pilgrims around the Golden Rock. Only men can cross onto the terrace right next to the boulder, where most affix splotches of gold from little patches of paper, the little squares of paper constantly fluttering down after they are discarded. There are several different terraces with interesting views of the rock, and the pilgrims are interesting to watch. At the very top of the mountain is a tree or two with statues all around. A red robed monk sat meditating among them.
I enjoyed walking around and watching everything, but as it became warmer in mid morning the number of pilgrims diminished. I had planned to spend the day up there, but thought about descending and heading further north. Eventually, I decided to hang around and took a walk to a couple of nearby, lower hilltops, passing the pilgrim hostels and shops along the way. The walk wasn't all that interesting but for a couple of shops that had some interesting little bottles of perhaps liquor, or medicine, or both. They contained some weird vegetation in the liquid. There was some very odd food, too. At one spot, a guy with a branch of some sort of wood chopped off about an inch portion, maybe a half inch thick, scraped the side with his axe, and gave it to me to smell. It smelled very strongly of menthol, reminding me of Vicks Vaporub. I handed it back, but he made clear it was a present. The little piece of wood continued to smell for quite a while. I watched some young men playing chinlon, the game similar to volleyball but where you can use any part of your body other than your arms and hands to touch the ball. They were very skilful at kicking, kneeing and headbutting the wicker-like ball. I've also seen guys playing it in a circle, without a net.
I walked back and had lunch about noon at one of the many little restaurants and then sat there until about 3 reading and watching all the pilgrims come through. Some were dressed like hill people. It had clouded up by midday, but was sunny again in the late afternoon. I walked around some more and watched the pilgrims. A lot more pilgrims, and a lot more tourists, arrived towards the end of the afternoon. The sun set into the clouds to the west, imparting a wonderful glow to the Golden Rock just before the sun set. Once the sun got low I could see the Sittoung River to the west. The last truck down is supposed to leave at six. I got to the truck about 20 minutes before and we left just before 6. It took us only about a half hour to get down, under a crescent moon and Venus in the sky, the truck's light illuminating the forest on the way down.
About 9 the next morning I left Kinpun on a very comfortable bus, with functioning air conditioning, bound for Bago to the west. The buses in Burma certainly have improved since I was here 20 years ago. Back then public transportation was so uncomfortable that backpackers generally banded together to hire vans to see the country, which worked out very well. I saw more rubber drying on poles along the way. We crossed the Sittoung River on an old railroad bridge with the roadways later built on either side on the tracks and entered the Burmese heartland. Burma, or Myanmar as it is now officially known, is composed of seven states based on ethnicity and seven divisions where ethnic Bamars (70% of the country's population) predominate. The districts generally cover the long central valley of the Irrawaddy (now spelled Ayeyarwady) River while the states are on the mountainous border regions of the country, although it looks like there is more national territory in the states than in the districts.
After a lunch stop in Waw about 11, we arrived in Bago, formerly known as Pegu, about noon. This was a well known port to Europeans since the 16th century, I think, but the city was destroyed in the 18th century in the struggle between Bamars and Mons and despite some rebuilding never regained its past glory. I checked into a hotel on the main drag, the road to Yangon cutting through the center of town, and then took a motorcycle tour around the city sights. Bago has about 200,000 people, though it seemed smaller to me. We headed first to the Shwemawdaw Paya, another golden stupa, this one the highest in Burma at 376 feet. The gold glared in the midday sun. This stupa has collapsed and been repaired many times over the centuries. A 1930 earthquake completely leveled it, and alongside the present stupa is the big, brick, upper portion of the stupa destroyed in a 1917 earthquake. I slowly walked around it, with temples all around and a few worshipers there at midday.
From there we drove to a monastery housing a 20 foot long python, supposedly the reincarnation of a previous abbot that found its way to the monastery from somewhere in the north. It was sleeping on a bench with a guy sitting next to it. I was told it eats either 11 pounds or 11 kilos of chicken every week or so. I was also told it is 125 years old. It is quite thick, maybe almost a foot at the thickest. There are a few photos of old monks with it draped around their necks.
We next visited a monastery said to have about 600 monks and I saw about 200 young ones studying in a big hall. Our next stops were big Buddhas, four standing ones of maybe 40 feet and a reclining one about 250 feet long, all recently built. Next was Mahazedi Paya, built in the 16th century, destroyed in the 1757 sacking of Bago, leveled again in the 1930 earthquake, and rebuilt in 1982 with a white base and a gold spire. I climbed up the lower portion, ascending about 90 feet and over a hundred stairs, for great views of the town, including the reclining Buddha and the golden Shwemawdaw Paya. Nearby was another stupa that you could enter to see 64 Buddhas side by side in the circular chamber. Our last stop was at the Shwethalyaung Buddha, a reclining Buddha 180 feet long housed in a large shed. It, too, had been destroyed in the 1757 sacking and was not rebuilt until 1881.
By about 4:30 I was back at the hotel and took a walk around the town center for about an hour. Just a block or two from the main street there was some very substandard housing in what looked like a very decrepit old building. I also ventured over to the decrepit old train station to check about trains to Yangon, and then returned to my hotel through a street market. The hotel's electricity came on about 6 and I even had air conditioning in my room. I had dinner in a restaurant with a menu featuring "Goat Fighting Balls," which I think are testicles. You could get them dry, cabob (a kebab of testicles, I suppose), sweet, with mustard, with beans, and with cauliflower. You could also get goat brains. I can't remember what I had for dinner that night, but I know it wasn't anything from a goat.
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