Travel in Myanmar - the friendliest country in the world

Travel in Myanmar - the friendliest country in the world is a travelogue written by Line Hansen

A different morning in Myanmar

Slightly dazed, I wake up as the landing gear unfolds. God forbid early in the morning I land in Yangon, Myanmar, where I will meet Camilla - sister of one of my good friends - who is writing an anthropology thesis on the education system in Myanmar.

With her 183 cm and long light locks, I immediately spot her in the crowd among the half-tall and black-haired Burmese. Take the taxi through the morning rush hour.

In the small street kitchens along the roads, people sit on small pastel-colored plastic chairs and consume the day's first noodle soup. There is cross-sectional shopping in the small fruit and vegetable stalls. 

Women as men wear the traditional 'longyi' skirt in all sorts of colors and patterns, and many faces are completely or partially covered by 'thanaka'; a protective yellow ointment extracted from bark. Dogs roam restlessly, and a single rat sticks its head out from its hiding place.

Dark red remnants on the streets from the betel nut-chewing men. A bicycle taxi driver looks up sleep-deprived from his bed across the bike. 

From a small breakfast place, rice is distributed to the monks in the characteristic saffron-colored robes, which every morning collect alms in their black bamboo bowls.

Trucks are filled to the brim with people, vegetables or other goods, and people sometimes zigzag between each other and the traffic. My journey in Myanmar - formerly called Burma - is underway.

A trip to Myanmar is a sensuous experience

There is a wonderful mix of sounds, smells, moods, cheers and ballads in a wonderful palette of colors. "It's life," as my grandmother would have said. When authenticity and authenticity cannot be questioned.

Nothing is camouflaged or laundered for the sake of the tourists; no flashy entrances, 'camera fee' or "special price for you my friend". It IS life as it is right here - right now.

A bombardment of sensory impressions and questions fills my head, and Camilla does not get a chance to answer my questions adequately before a new one pushes on.

The contrast to the toothbrush-polished roads and nail-clipped lawns in solitary Ashgabat in Turkmenistan, where I came from is indescribable. I know well what I would choose if it got there.

New acquaintances on my trip in Myanmar

After a few days in Camilla's domestic chambers, I hop on a bus to Bagan. An area with more than 4.000 temples. A year ago, I was in the steakhouse watching the documentary Samsara with my traveling buddy Christian. Here, footage from Bagan was filmed from a hot air balloon hovering over the many temples at dawn. I was convinced it had to be computer animation, so amazing it looked.

After further research, however, I could ascertain that this place existed - and should definitely be experienced at some point. I hook up with a French girl and a guy from Alaska, and after 10 minutes we have a triple room booked. This backpacker life is a funny world.

The idea of ​​standing at Copenhagen Central Station and trying to find two random people to share a hotel room with seems distant and strange. But in this setting - three people with the same intentions and goals, the same rules of the game and not least the desire to save money on accommodation - there is nothing more natural than finding together in a small trio. Three people who have known each other for two minutes at 5 in the morning at a bus stop in the middle of Myanmar.

The taste of Myanmar

The temples are explored on a bike that is too small with only one functional gear to step on, and the limited capacity of the bike - or rider - does not make it easy on the sandy gravel roads. The pulse smokes in the air, and it just needed it.

The reward after a hard hot day at the Iron Goat is delicious food from Burmese street cuisine. A huge upgrade from Central Asia, where fresh vegetables were a rarity on the menu. However, the food is hardly as varied as in Thailand, for example, but always well-cooked, tasty and not least cheap: 5-15 kroner including soup / tea / water, which is always included.

We take a day trip to a spiritual shrine on top of Mount Popa. A super kitschy place filled with spiritual figures surrounded by banknotes, candles and lamps, aggressive monkeys and French tourist groups.

According to Burmese superstition, bad karma strikes one who wears black and red or swears or speaks ill of others on the mountain. I managed to deliver all three, and it was only a matter of time before 'Mr. bad karma 'would make a difference.

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Festival and ladyboys

On the way back we are lucky to bump into a festival in a small village. A giant procession of costumed children on horses march through the city. All people smile, wave and are very curious.

It's just before we inadvertently steal the spotlight from the karaoke singers ladyboy on the bed of a truck with accompanying symphony orchestra. However, the attention is not diminished by the fact that after a performance we break out in impulsive applause - this is obviously not done on these edges.

Before we take the night bus on in the evening, I will pick up my shorts, which are for repair at the tailor. Unfortunately, the pants are closed, so I have to move on without my 8 year old favorite travel shorts.

The next morning I forget my newly purchased hand-painted picture as we get off the bus and my pants subsequently crack. Then we're probably right, Mr. Bad Karma…

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Walk across the world's longest teak walkway

At 3 o'clock in the morning - much earlier than enlightened - we arrive in the city of Mandalay. A guy on a scooter has seen the trick in offering 'morning sightseeing tours' to the sleepy backpackers, who still have a few hours of waiting time for the connecting bus further east.

After a coffee and banana pancake, Mandalay is explored from the back seat by a scooter; first toothbrushing and washing of the Buddha at 4 o'clock in the morning in a temple, then boy monk, who collects alms of the day and finally the sunrise and walk over the world's longest teak tree walkway.

Camilla encounters the trip, and together we take the train further northeast towards the trekking-friendly mountains.

The main reason for taking the train is the passage via a 680 meter long train bridge built in 1901, which will lead us across a 106 meter deep gorge. Gisp!

As we approach the passage, the speed is greatly reduced to minimize the pressure on the bridge. The suspicious creaking sounds from the chassis and bridge are happily overshadowed by the picture-perfect view, which extends as far as the eye can see from both sides of the train.

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The meeting with the locals

Instead of taking one of the traditional boat trips on Lake Inle, I choose to take a cooking class, which I have been recommended by two German girls.

This involves a boat trip out to one of the local markets around the lake, where we shop with our guide, after which the trip continues south towards the boatman's house. Here we prepare the food with the family, and finally we consume it. Again a super authentic experience and away from the usual tourist trail.

We embark on a three-day trek with our young mood bomb by a guide, JoJo. A real spreading bass - full of farts and stories. The next few days we trot through beautiful diverse landscapes, but what really makes the trip unique are the small secluded villages we pass through.

Both nights we spend the night with local families, and everywhere we meet with tremendous hospitality, kindness and humility.

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It saved gold

I sit down to visit a Buddha cave filled with no less than 8000 Buddhas. The road there is long and arduous, but after two trucks, a minibus and a ride on the back of a motorcycle, I finally hit the destination.

The extra long transport time I had not calculated with, and I therefore have 30 minutes to run up the stairs, buy a ticket, find a toilet, visit the cave and run down again to then do the exact same procedure backwards so I can reach back and catch my night bus to carry me south.

Pyha, sometimes I forget that 80 km is not like 80 km on the E45 at home - I will remember that next time I complain about the view from the German autobahn. You can not have it all.

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An exciting farewell to my trip to Myanmar

The last days in Myanmar are spent in a small cozy town in the south. The road there will also be a bit of an experience, as I have to change buses at 4 o'clock at night, and there are two hours until the next bus leaves. A guy helps me with the ticket on and takes me to the back of his scooter to a tea shop nearby. From here I give the monks pancakes and rice as they pass by.

Departure in the next bus, where I get a seat down at the back with a lot of school children. They think it's a lot of fun with such a tourist, and the camera phones are snapped up.

My bags, which I have had in my bag since leaving Denmark, turn out to be extremely beneficial, as one after another throws up due to the winding roads. I adore my 'go-go' pills and ginger chewing gum, which I'm addicted to, screw up my iPod and stick my head out the window while the school kids throw half- and full-filled plastic bags out of the bus.

The beautiful view of the river from the roof terrace in my 'guesthouse' greatly compensates for the size of the room of almost 5 square meters. Just to give an idea of ​​the dimensions, I can with my four limbs reach all four walls at the same time…

There is a rather Buddhist vibe where I live, and one day after breakfast I fall into conversation with the manager. He tells the story of the time a monk came down to him from heaven. I do not exactly get less interested when he tells me that he has a photo of the monk hovering over a temple. Unfortunately, the image shows only a light dribble in the sky, which often occurs when taking pictures at night.

Anyways, the man is super inspiring and we get some good talk. He gives me a small book, which he recommends me read with the words: "Life is school - my mind is my friend".

The book captures me completely, and the next day is devoted to reading, banana shakes and the beautiful view. No plans, no sightseeing, no contact with people. Just me and my book. When you are on the go like that, it's great to have such a break once in a while.

I'm about to run out of clean underwear, and since I can not send any clothes to wash, I go down to the local market to buy panties. The man in the panties pulls out one granny panty after another. In my eagerness to explain to the dear man that it is g-string panties I am looking for, I get without further consideration said: "Ooohh you know, small, like ahhh sexy underwear".

I immediately regret my choice of words and feel awkward about fashion in the small market stall. The man lights up for a brief second, then disappears under the table and almost crawls into a closet. Proud and happy, he emerges from the cave with the most kinky lace panties with silk cords and other decorative tangle on. It seems very rare, they come out of the darkness, I can sense…

In my embarrassment, I now venture out into an explanation that it is shown just is a know too sexy. Wondering when I learn to consider my words before I speak?

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Have a good trip in Myanmar - the friendliest country in the world!