Waking early, I awoke to a
stunning view as I opened the curtain. Mist clung to the valleys with haze painting
the rolling hills hundreds of shades of grey/blue. A simple breakfast followed,
bathed in morning sun shining in through the large windows of the Mountain Top Hotel’s
dining room. The coffee was pretty good and we took our time enjoying the view.
It took almost no time to pack as we only had the bare necessities with us.
After taking a nice, hot shower (it was pretty cool up on the mountain) we
headed off to walk down to the truck stop to catch a ride back to Kinpun to
meet our driver Kyaw.
Browsing the stalls along the
way, we enjoyed the early light as we wondered out of the ‘town’ area, stopping
to check out some little stupas and lookouts before the road before us took a
sharp turn – downwards. From a gentle slope, the road quickly became a very
steep decline towards the Yatetaung bus station. Ok, so I found it hard going,
and I was going down hill! The old knees just don’t work the way they used to.
In fact, I actually cope with up-hills climbs better. At least we weren’t
huffing and puffing as we laboured up, just merely creaking and groaning as our
joints ground down (thank goodness for that truck ride up yesterday – now that
I walked it, I truly appreciated how lucky we had been!).
Acute, 180 degree corners
followed short straight(ish) stretches, as the road wound round and round down
the mountain. A few hundreds metres down, we heard a sort of pounding noise,
rhythmic, with an accompanying kind-of clapping sound. We looked up the hill
wondering what on Earth was making this unexpected racket. Then, around the
corner came the first of many porters, carrying tourists down the mountain. Four
men carried a make-ship sedan chair, one on each corner, connected to two large
bamboo poles, upon which a passenger was seated. With the rider holding on for
love of life, the whole party jolted their way down at quite a pace. Creating
that thumping sound, the pole carriers marched together in sync; their thongs
slapping down hard on the asphalt. Only when we neared the bottom did we see
any porters carrying passengers up. Let me just say; they didn’t move at the
same cracking speed as the ones we saw descending…
Dotted all the way along the
steep road were stalls selling drinks, snacks, and footwear. Children ran out
as we passed by. Many “Mingalarbars” and smiles were exchanged as we greeted
the locals preparing for their day. The procession of pilgrims making their way
to the sacred rock was only just starting for the day. At one of the many sharp
bends, three small kids, maybe three or four years old had made their own fun.
Using flattened old plastic bottles, they made their way up to the top of the
bend, sat on their improvised toboggans, and slid down the steep slope with
much yelling and laughter.
Half and hour or so later, we
arrived at the truck stop, not before visiting a small temple along the way,
where we paid a donation to use their ‘short cut’ and see their golden Buddha
statue. Porters were relaxing under trees, either after ferrying passengers
down, or possibly waiting for a paying fare back up. People were eating at one
of a couple of little food stands. Children ran around while parents relaxed idly.
A tin roof covered the trucks. Until there were enough passengers, the trucks
did not depart – read that as they pack as many people in as possible until
there isn’t a spare square inch left to sit. J and I wondered around, checked
out the stalls, and discovered the truck would go at around 9am. So nothing to
do but garb a cool drink, sit in the shade and watch the comings and goings.
Many people made their way down (and up) the full ascent to (and from) the
Kinpun base station. A friendly local told us it was only 2 hours walk – down!
How long would it be up? I didn’t want to know…
Finally, we squeezed onto a truck
with fifty or more others for the return roller coaster ride down the mountain.
I’m not sure which way was worse, up or down, but it sure was a hell of a ride.
The truck stopped before the undercover bus stop and we all disembarked on the
side of the road. Our happy driver Kyaw had his car waiting and waved to us as
we arrived. “How was it? Good Hotel? Nice dinner? Enough breakfast?” Responding
with his chuckling laugh, we informed him of our night and how much we loved
it, as we headed off toward Hpa-an.
Half
way between Kyaikto and Mawlamyine is the previous capital of the Mon
kingdom, Thaton. Kyaw asked if were interested in seeing a (as he put it) ‘more
famous’ temple. Sure, why not! We loved experiences off the beaten path. When
Kyaw pulled up at the temple entrance, and us two westerners got out of the
car, a few locals looked a little shocked. I am sure they don’t get too many
tourists in their town. The town itself was a mostly typical large-ish town,
with a gold-roofed, white clock tower standing near the centre of town. Shops
and stalls lined the surrounding roads with a few eating places in between. 
Shwe Zayan Paya dates back to the
10th century where successive kings have built and extended the
central stupa over millennia. Removing our shoes, we wondered through one of
the less grand side gates into the temple grounds where we were instantly
confronted by the incredible heat. Sure it was hot in Yangon, but woe! It was
extremely hot here! Shining bright under the late morning sun, the gold stupa
was huge, not quite as large as Shwe Dagon or Shwe Mawdaw, but not far off. A
number of smaller stupas and temple buildings dotted the grounds. In one grand
alter room, over a dozen large seated, standing and reclining Buddhas, draped
in golden robes, lined the side and rear walls providing an holy entourage to a
larger seated Buddha.
To the side, an interesting,
white, rounded, bell-like stupa sat surrounded by hundreds of pigeons, which
took flight in a great feathery, flappy, black cloud as we drew close. Further
around, another newer square-based stupa housed more Buddas. Behind this new
structure, some simple, ancient looking, stone or faded brick small temples
stood neglected and crumbling. J and would have gone over to investigate them
further. But with bare feet, and the scorching hot, stony concrete path between
us and them, we were not interested in burning the soles of our feet off.
We spent a half an hour looking
through the various buildings, mostly having the entire place to ourselves.
Clearly the locals were more sensible than us in the almost unbearable heat,
staying somewhere cooler away from the biting sun. Returning to where were
dropped, Kyaw had the car waiting, with the air conditioning running, waiting
for us. Thankfully, a drink vendor was also there with an esky full of cold
drinks.
Driving out of the busy town, we
relaxed in the rear seats after the hot excursion, and I took out my notes and
LP guide to read up on the sights around Hpa-an. Kyaw had mentioned a few
sights he was planning to take us to and we trusted him to figure out the best
itinerary for our few days. “Now, we see some cave temple. In morning, Hpa-an
market. No far now”.
The scenery as we drove through
the countryside was beautiful. Golden stupas dotted the hills. Karst limestone
mountain ranges rose from flat, green farmland. Roads carried an assortment of
tractors and jalopies taking crops to market, or goods and passengers back
home. Small towns with simple shops flashed past at regular intervals. Locals
going about their busy days.
Our first stop was Bayint Nyi or
Begyinni cave temple and hot springs. From the car park area, you wouldn’t know
there was anything to see in what seemed to be in the middle of a field. Once
you walked a few metres down the little path, flanked on both sides by thick bushes,
you came upon a gorgeous temple and monastery set on little lake at the base of
a sheer limestone cliff. A young monk was bent over doing some washing who
stood up as we approached, staring at the outsiders. Initial guarded looks gave
way to smiles and a wave once we exchanged greetings. He beckoned us to head up
the path to the cave temple.
Climbing a little hill we made
our way up the stony path. A few huts stood on one side near the monastery, and
many small, golden stupas lined the other side below the rock wall. Between the
buildings, the elevation provided a lovely view of the green countryside.
The cave was only a hundred
metres along. Inside, hundreds of new-ish looking, Buddhas sat around the
perimeter of the cavern. With white plaster faces, red lipstick mouths, golden
robes and crowns, they were pretty much identical, sitting on golden lotus
thrones on top of concrete bases.
From no-where, a group of children arrived,
laughing and giggling, running around. Their guardians also followed and began
their adulations, while the kids decided to interact with us. A few of the
older ones must have been learning English as they said some hesitant hellos,
asked us our names, where we were from, how long we had been there, how long
were we staying. Each of our responses prompted a round of giggles from the
group. When we said we were from Australia, there was a small discussion amongst
the group, followed by cries of “Kangaroo!” with accompanying hopping gestures.
We all laughed together and they followed us around the cave. Unexpectedly, one of them produced a mobile
phone – a smart phone no less – and started taking photos of us. J and I posed
for a few shots, and I took my own photos of them.
When we left, they followed and
ran around us on the path continuing the fun interaction, before called back by
the adults. Back at the lake, a few young men were bathing in the clear water.
I then noticed the line of maroon robes hung out like bedsheets and figure
these guys were probably residents of the monastery. J and I walked back to the
car quickly, wanting to give the monks privacy. Not only that, it was simply
boiling hot and we were keen to return to Kyaw’s air-conditioned car.
By now, it was a bit after two,
and we were ready for some lunch. We had lunch in a little local restaurant in
a small town. Simple stir-fried noodles with veggies, along with a Myanmar beer
each, cost about 6000 kyats. I wish I had noted the town and restaurant names
abut didn’t. They certainly don’t receive too many western tourists judging by
the way a few of the local children stared at us. But, as usual, a warm
greeting quickly drew friendly smiles.
After lunch we visited Kaw-goon (or
Kawgun) and Ya-The-Byan (or Yathapypyan or Yathei Pyan) temple-caves (note that the names in brackets are
other known ‘western’ names, while the former are the names as written at the
sites). Both caves were built by the same King dating back the 7th
century. Kaw-goon had hundreds of tile-like little clay Buddhas and carvings
all over the rocky wall of the grotto. A row of Buddhas with a beautifully,
newly tiled pathway, lead you up a few steps to the small cave.
Inside, a large reclining Buddha lay
in the deepest part of the cave, with a retinue of more golden-robed Buddhas lining
the sides of the cave. The smoke from the incense offerings hung under the roof
producing an ethereal effect. Much of the exterior was undergoing restoration
and large wooden bamboo scaffolds partly obscured some of the carvings on the
side of the cave. 
As we were leaving, a few young children approached us with
much giggling and “hello”-ing. Following us back to the car, they shyly tried
out the few English words they knew, running around excitedly, shouting to each
other and laughing. I took their photos and they enjoyed seeing themselves on
the small screen.
At Ya-The-Byan cave-temple, we came
upon a small group of locals performing their prayers in front of a alter of
many Buddhas at the entrance of the cave. We climbed the steps to the temple,
where a line of standing Buddhas greeted us. A few more of the small clay
Buddha tiles lined some of the walls. We walked past a row of serene,
white-washed Buddhas, as we explored deep in the cave. A large gold stupa sat
not far from the cave entrance.
Further in, smaller stupas rested on higher
rock ledges, and a series of steps lead up to the cave roof aside crystallised
rock formations hanging from the walls. Many holes in the cave walls let in
sunlight as we ascended. Looking out from the top, a lovely view of the
surrounding mountains and farmland unfolded before us. Sweaty and hot, we returned
to the cave entrance, where the locals were relaxing in the shade of the overhanging
rock. Seeing us, one of the men smiled at us and said “Too hot, too hot”, making
fan gestures. We departed after a few giggles and “Mingalabars” and “bye-byes”.
Late afternoon sun lit up the
fields as we drove out back towards Mt Zwegabin, a great craggy mountain that
was a prominent silhouette on the Hpa-an landscape. Kyaw wanted to show us
another sight: the Lumbini Buddha Garden. On the approach road, you see a
decorated gate marking the entrance with a seated Buddha on either side. But
once through the gate, the road becomes a divided avenue lined by hundreds and
thousands of identical seated Buddhas.
The Buddhas are arranged in countless rows
and columns. Some face the entrance, others face inwards. Some have red posted
and golden roofed canopies, others are left exposed to the elements. All those
Buddhas make an amazing site. The rows of Buddhas continued far from view into
the forests towards the base of the mountain, where Kyaw told us there was a monastery.
I asked him why some Buddhas had shelters and others didn’t. He told me that
locals donated to the monastery with the mission to build a cover for all the
Buddhas, as well as build even more Buddhas. Apparently they cost a mere US
$500 (or there abouts). Kyaw went on to say that there were nearly 3000 Buddhas
now, with plans to have 10,000 in the future. What a site that would make!
Last stop before sunset was the bazaar
but stunning rock temple of Kyauk Kalap. From the car park, you could see the
rock stack, which was on a little islet in the centre of a small lake. Many
people were also visiting, including the first western tourists we’d seen all
day. Stalls were set up along the road and car park, and many locals were
eating and drinking, unwinding in the afternoon shade . A long bridge lead to
the temple and monastery. Below, in the lake, hungry fish – some of them quite large
– swarmed to the surface with huge mouths open, gulping the rice or popped corn
the locals had thrown in as a offering of sorts.
The island itself was tiny with a
few very basic buildings where the monks lived and studied. Shady trees covered
the isle, along with a few frangipani trees and thick bushes. The main path
lead up to the skinny rock pillar with some steep steps spiralling up to a small
pagoda near the top. Along the way, we passed through a little shrine area as
well as a tiled ledge with a small stupa. At the top, a elderly monk was seated
cross-legged in a meditative state. A local couple were kneeling before him
reciting mantras, The monk then blessed them and they turned to leave. We exchanged
smiles as they left, the monk returning to his silent contemplation. 
From the top, the view of the
surrounding mountains and countryside in the golden late afternoon light was magnificent.
We explored the island, walking down to the lake shore. As we wondered back to
the bridge, we met some monks playing a game that is half way between soccer
and volleyball; the players kick or head-but the ball over a net without
touching it with their hands or letting it bounce. Later I found out it’s
called chinlone. Lots of smiles and “Mingalbars” followed as we passed by, kicking
the ball back when it strayed in our direction.
Though sunset was an hour away,
we were exhausted and ready to chill out, cool off, and relax with a beer.
Returning to the car, Kyaw asked whether we wanted to see sunset, but we let
him know we had had a wonderful day, but we wanted to get to the hotel. Thankfully
the Hotel Zwekabin wasn’t too far and we bade farewell to Kyaw, with
plans to meet him at 8:30am the next morning to continue our journey. The setting of the hotel was simply gorgeous
at the base of a limestone karst hill. After checking in and freshening up in
our lovely (and large) room, J & I headed to the outdoor restaurant area
where we enjoyed a cold beer as the sun set, before an ample meal. In the warm
night air, we reflected on the amazing day we had enjoyed, truly unforgettable,
and looked forward to more amazing sights, people and places tomorrow.
- K
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