Myanmar Part 5 - Hpa-an to Mawlamyine

Crashing thunder and pounding rain woke us in the middle of the night. It was spectacular! Every few seconds, a flash of bright lightening lit up the sky with an accompanying bang of shot-gun-like thunder. It reminded me of a Hollywood movie – you know the ones – where the thunderstorm’s light and sounds effects sound totally fake. This was so intense, with rain as heavy as water a pressure hose used on a car or windows. J and I got up and stood outside on the little porch of our cabin and enjoyed watching Mother Nature’s lightshow until it slowly passed over the mountains out of earshot.

Morning light crept in the thin blinds early. After the downpour overnight, I was expecting to see lakes of puddles everywhere, but it had all soaked into the dry earth (it was, after all, the end of dry season and the start of the wet). We had plenty of time to wonder around the hotel grounds after breakfast before Kyaw was due to pick us up. I ventured out over the road to take some photos of the field and distant mountains. Passing by in pick-up trucks were groups of young adults, singing and shouting, with music and some sort of announcement sounding out over loud speakers. I’m not sure what was going on, but I saw a dozen or so heading down the road, with the people waving to me as they went by.

We were ready and waiting when Kyaw arrived, smiling and chuckling as we greeted. First stop was Hpa-an town and the morning market. Leaving us to wonder around alone, Kyaw drove away after confirming a meeting spot in front of a small, red-rendered mosque. Before us, under colourful beach umbrellas, the market was in full swing. Turns out, we were there at ‘back to school’ time. Kids were picking through stationary; mums were measuring up cute green uniforms against children’s backs; teenagers were thumbing text books and checking each other out; shoes were tried on; bags filled with supplies; and stallholders were doing a steady trade.

Further along, the produce section was a riot of colour and smells – some smells not so great around the meat and fish section. It’s a little scary to think meat and seafood sit out in the heat without ice or refrigeration before being bought and prepared. Makes me feel even more relieved to be vegetarian. A smiling stall-holder offered me some potatoes when I paused to check out her dangerous looking chillies and fragrant fresh herbs. Returning her smile, I shock my head and declined. Other buyers rode their motorbikes almost into the stalls buying their daily needs. Near our meeting place, we bought some drinks, pausing in the shade to watch the town’s hustle and bustle. Just over was a well, you know, a village well where people came to collect water. A skinny man was working his but off hauling up heavy buckets to disperse to guys on motorbikes and rickshaws. And we complain about our water bills…

Down on the waterfront was Shwe Yinh Myaw pagoda. Circling the walls of the main temple were many colourful murals depicting stories from the life of Buddha, as well as stories about local saints and kings. An impressive gold Buddha presided over the main alter, quite unlike most of the other Buddhas we’d seen to date. Connected to the temple was a small stupa sitting right on the river bank. A group of teenage boys giggled as we walked past them, busy playing with their smart phones. I guess teenagers are pretty much the same world over. Below on the river, small narrow boats were ferrying passengers and goods to and fro. Rocky hills and distant mountains rose across the river, with many golden stupas shining in the morning sun.

Already, the day was stinking hot. Well over a hundred on the old scale. Sweat was dripping down my back as we returned to the car. Our next stop was Kaw Ka Taung cave temple. Along the road from the cave entrance, a golden robed Buddha with bowl in hand led a procession of monks on their morning alms collection. The line of life sized statues extended all the way along the road then around the bend and out of sight. The cave itself wasn’t overly large, with a line of identical small white Buddhas sitting around a main alter. Deep inside, down a dark, narrow rocky passage, we found a little meditation room with an ancient statue behind a little metal railing. There was only enough space for one seated meditator. I could just imagine a wandering ascetic staying here, practising calm-abiding, on the path to enlightenment.

Sadder cave was next, the one I was looking forward to (as well as dreading) the most. The reason I was dreading it was due to the bats, and what they leave behind. In Borneo a few years back, we visited a cave with lots of bats that also had millions of cockroaches. An experience I never wanted to repeat. However, Kyaw had assured me that there were no cockroaches and not many bats so I was feeling relieved. At the entrance, a pair of white elephants guarded the stairway to the cave; climbing them was a strenuous exertion in the oppressive heat.

Guiding the path into the cave, a row of a dozen identical, golden-robed Buddhas, stood holding their alms bowls. Above them were hundreds of small Buddhas carved into the cave wall and gilded in gold. Not far away, a large gold reclining Buddha lay beneath a canopy of many tiny, luminescent tiles that covered the walls, pillars, and sides. A few locals were praying, making offerings in this amazing place.

Prepared with torches, J and I made our way away from the dim light into the depths of the cave. Many stalactites and stalagmites hung throughout the cave. No light penetrated too far into the cave so our torches were quickly switched on. Even in the dark depths of the cave, there was no escape from the heat, and it felt even warmer inside. Light posts were in the process of being erected (or repaired) and electricity cables being strung, as the hand written sign at the entrance proclaimed (verbatim): “All the tourtst donation some money to repaiks the road ways inside the cave and milty pose” Looks like future visitors won’t need a torch at all. The path had many steps and rocky sections. Bats rustled overhead in a few areas, identified not only by the echolocation sounds they made, but by also by that distinctive (and unpleasant) smell of guano. And the squelch of it under foot when you stepped in it – yuk! Oh did I mention, you have to remove your shoes at the entrance and complete the journey through the cave bare foot?

Just before we reached the other side, a massive crystallized limestone column stood in the gloom, which sparkled in our spotlight. As we drew closer, the light from the cave exit grew brighter and brighter, with the rocky walls illuminated from the daylight outside. A rocky few steps led to the opening that looked out over a pretty outlook. A little lake reflected the small karst limestone outcrops in it its green waters. It was a bit like walking into a landscape painting.

Inside a glass box, a pure white marble (or maybe it could have been white jade as it didn’t have any flaws or veins) sat sentinel over the cave entrance. A small flight of stairs led down to the lake’s bank where we sat under the shade of a tree and enjoyed the view. Men and boys paddled around in narrow dug out canoes, possibly doing some fishing, but I’m thinking they were hoping to take visitors around the lake for a paying fare. The prospect of being out under that burning sun in the sweltering heat, coupled with the fact we didn’t have any money with us, meant we didn’t go. It looked so good too.  It appeared hat there was a cave under a rocky hill that the lake or river went through and under.

Back at the car park, Kyaw had parked beside some stalls selling sweets. Two young monks were bargaining with the vendor. As we approached, they were quick to say their “Hellos” and “Where are you from?”, keen to talk to us. I replied and asked them how old they were, but they didn’t understand so Kyaw had to translate. Giggling, they also let me take their photos before returning to their important business of purchasing lollies.

“No more caves now”, chuckled Kyaw, “we go Mawlamyine see some village on way.” No problem. We were simply happy to relax in the back, with the air-conditioning blasting after our hot morning.

Last stop for the day was a temple off the tourist trail, but I’m sure it will be soon (if it’s not already). Kawhnat pagoda (in Kawhnat village) is well over a hundred years old with a number of interesting religious buildings in its compound. An elderly local man met us at the entrance, who seemed very excited to see us and enthusiastically ushered us in. He spoke very little English so Kyaw translated for us once again.

On our right was the Theingyi ordination hall, written up as, “arguably, the most impressive ordination building in the country”. It certainly was remarkable. Crowned with a six-tiered, spired, golden roof, the building exterior was covered with multi-coloured, glass mosaic tiles. Intricate, gold painted, wood carvings hung over the many arched doorways. Silvery pillars held up the second storey roof between which were many little glass panes boarded with golden frames, like a stained glass window you’d find in a European church, but all one colour – green. It shimmered in the afternoon light. Our guide offered to have it opened up even though women are not permitted to enter. But I declined, wishing to respect the local custom.

Eagerly, our keen guide showed us into the next impressive building, the Dipinkara Wut, or East shrine. Surrounded by a corridor, the central shrine room contained two giant standing Buddhas, each carved out of a single piece of teak. Before them sat three monks in prayer. Along the top of the wall, hundreds of intricately carved teak figures depicted the lives of the Buddha. Traditional designs were painted in gold over red walls. The ceiling was amazing, divided into a rectangles decorated with more glass mosaic. At the centre of each rectangle was a figure, each in a different posture.

We were also shown through the Hna-kyeik-shi-su temple decorated with gorgeous gold painted walls, striking mosaic glass tiles, and elaborate teak carvings. Inside, the stunning nine-tiered pyathat or spired building housed an amazing mural of Buddhist stories, and numerous Buddhas of various sizes and styles, some golden, some white, sitting, laying and standing on a tiered platform.

From outside, the Mahamuni shrine looked very plain compared to its brilliant neighbours, with whitish cream rendered walls and plaster embellishments. Over the entrance was a stunning floral design teak carving and more floral carvings decorated the high walls inside. A traditional, large gold Buddha in bhumisparsha or ‘Earth witnessing’ posture sat in the centre of the large dome-roofed hall. More red and gold paintings adorned the ceiling held up by large pillars topped with more painted carvings.

Our guide explained all the features of the different buildings, as well as the golden stupa standing outside in a square surround by all these extraordinary structures. All the while Kyaw, relayed the information about the various states of repair and the restoration efforts the Kawhnat Gawpaka committee were undertaking. So much work had already been complete, and it was truly wonderful, but there was still so much more to do to repair the many other buildings in the compound. In one of the corridors, a stand was set up for administration where we were handed a printed guide of the Kawhnat pagoda compound and a notice asking to help preserve their treasures. Having been blown away by this amazing place, J and I gave a small donation, for which we were given an official receipt and much thanks. We were warmly farewelled and asked to come back soon to see their progress. I sure would love to return in a year or two to see how magnificent it will be fully restored.

From Kawhnat, it wasn’t too far to our stop for the next two nights, Mawlamyine. Cinderella Hotel was charming and we quickly unpacked, refreshed ourselves, and then headed off to explore. I also had a special mission to complete. Via TripAdvisor, I’d connected with a lovely woman from Brisbane who had visited Mawlamyine a few months earlier. Her and her husband had befriended a local family who had a food stall along the waterfront, across the road from the police station. She had taken some photos of the family, and she’d posted them to me at home to take back and give to the family.

Though the sun was low in the sky and night approaching, the outside temperature was still oven-like. It was only a few blocks to the waterfront, and we meandered along taking in the river view and quaint buildings along the road. I saw no sign of the food stalls reportedly set up each night on the footpath. But maybe it was too early. As we walked down Strand road towards the hotel of the same name, we were greeted by locals with many “mingalarbars” and smiles. Business for the day was finishing up and shops were shutting, trucks packed for transport, and people heading home with fresh food for dinner. Enjoying the afternoon sun (despite the heat), we made out way along the wide boulevard to the end of the road and the Attran Hotel. Time for a beer.

With a cold beer, and side order of French fries, J and I watched the sun set. A group of Americans arrived and quickly had the little restaurant jumping. Requesting cheese and toast, the local women were baffled, and brought them breakfast fare, which they thought was right, only to be told to bring something else. The group become a little impatient and demanding with the wait staff who were doing their best. It was a little embarrassing.

As night fell and the light quickly faded, we strolled back along the riverfront to see if we could find the food stalls. When we reached the police station, there was no sign of them. Let’s try further down. Sure enough, a few hundred metres along, there were lights and many motorbikes parking and leaving. A dozen or stalls were set up along the footpath, with a paved area behind them full of tables and chairs for diners to sit overlooking the water. Drawing closer, I took out the photos I had to try to identify the stall or faces of the family.

The stalls all looked very similar, with food laid out on trestle tables covered in plastic tablecloths. Hot coals cooked food, open BBQ style, sending wafts of delicious smells on the night breeze. Then I saw a young boy, and a woman with long hair. Hmm. Could this be them? We went to their stall where the boy asked if we would like something to eat in pretty good English. Taking the photos out of my bag, I asked him, “Is this you?” At first, I think he was in shock. His mother came over to see what was going on, and I handed over some of the other photos of her and her children. When she saw the photo of her baby daughter, she made rocking gestures, indicating it was hers. She was overjoyed to see the pictures. Through the translation of her son, I explained that I had brought them to her family from the friends they had made when they were there. They recalled them straight away. The father of the family came to see what we were all looking at, and as soon as he saw the photos, he broke into a laugh. “Sit. Sit”.

We found a table beside the fence that edged the river, where there was a little air movement to try to cool off. We were offered drinks and ordered beer. Watching from our table, we could see the mother showing the photos to everyone that passed by, beaming with pride. They looked over at us, and we smiled and waved happy to oblige. “Eat. Eat”, asked the boy. I replied “Ta ta Lut” (which is something like ‘I do not eat life’). The boy quickly said, “Oh, you’re vegetarian.” He then lead me up to show me all the vegetarian food they had. J and I feasted on tasty, freshly BBQ’ed potatoes, tofu, corn, okra (and chicken and goat for J).

Sitting in the dark night air (that was still stiflingly hot) with beers and delightful food, I had the feeling of the world being just that little bit smaller. A connection had come full circle; us, this family and the travellers back home. This is why I love travelling.

- K

Myanmar Part 4 - Kyaikto to Hpa-an / temples and caves

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 10^th 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 7^th 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