TIM: This is Myanmar

You know those trips where everything seems to be going your way - the weather, the timing, your luck with transport. Well this is not one of those stories...

I write this from Yangon Airport, having just rushed here after an overnight bus ride only to be denied a ticket to Bangkok. 10 hours to wait til the next flight, which is about as good a time as any to document the details of the trip. So here it goes...

After months of talking about it, I finally had a chance to go see Burma and set aside a full 28 days to do it right. Everyone I've met who's been raves about how it's their favorite country in Southeast Asia. I knew it wouldn't be without its challenges though. And really, it started off quite well. Less than an hour after landing in Bangkok, I find myself a travel buddy (Chaz) who's looking to get his Burmese visa the next morning. We manage to get same-day visas (this has to mean good things, right?!) and head to Chiang Mai on the beautifully scenic overnight train - a must if you head up to Northern Thailand. After playing with tigers and elephants we head southwest to Mae Sot, as we had chosen to cross into Myanmar by land.

The initial crossing takes no more than an hour, with little to note other than Chaz nearly yaking after I talk him into trying some local chew. Whoops? We walk out of the immigration office giddy, excited for what was to come until we realize the truck we had taken to the border has disappeared, our packs along with it. Shit. We book it down the road, in my head thinking I've managed about 10 minutes in the country before disaster strikes. The only Westerns around, drivers and shop owners call out and grab at us to get our attention. One such guy yells to Chaz repeatedly until he catches his attention. It's one of the guys from the back of the truck with us! There he is, sitting with our bags next to him. Hallelujah!

Chan, as his name turns out to be, is the best thing to happen to us in Burma. After directing us to a place to rest, he seeks out transport. Since the road through the mountains is so narrow, the direction of traffic alternates daily. Luckily, it happens to be a westward day and Chan finds us a nice van with some monks going all the way to Yangon (rather than stopping midway for the night).

5 or so hours into the drive (after Chan nonchalantly mentioned to Chaz "Last month, bus went over cliff [here]. Twenty people died. Very sad."), there's a problem. It seems to be the transmission. We hang out with the monks for 3 hours, starting to get quite hungry, and finally it is fixed. We drive a few minutes but again pull over. The drive apologizes, saying the van won't make it but a bus will take us the rest of the way.

Moving our bags onto an old bus already full of passengers, we are stuck in the front seats with a full view of the terrifying road in front of us. I begin to ask Chaz if he can recall any times in his life where he genuinely thought he was going to die...he glares at me and I withdraw the question. Too apropos. The bus stops again, and we are all instructed to get onto a tuk tuk. Looking to Chan, he explains it's for "people weighing." Huh? Chaz says something sarcastic about this being an adventure and Chan responds with "This is Myanmar." Touché. It turns out they need to weigh the bus, a process which I'm pretty sure should include the entire weight, human cargo included. Anyway we're driven a few kilometers and wait for 20 minutes on the side of the very dark road for the bus to return. Not like the beginning of a horror movie or anything...Rule #1 in Burma: Always use the bathroom when you get a chance, so going on the side of the road will have to do. We repeat the weighing process at 10PM with a dinner break and again at 1AM. At some point our bus blows a tire and we transfer to another bus. After 20 hours of travel, we roll into Yangon Bus Station at 3:30AM to a mass of taxi drivers vying for our business. Thank God for Chan (again) who negotiates a fair price for the drive and off we zip into the darkness of the far too early morning. The first hotel wants $80/night and we can't check in until 6AM. Uhhh where are we again?! Finally finding a suitable spot for $35/night, we bid goodbye to Chan and try to catch some zzz's.

Tuesday we wander around the city, the highlight of which is Shwedagon Paya, though a rainstorm prevents us from going back to see it at night. Since we had disobeyed Rule #2 of Burma (always have snacks and water) on the drive from the border, we have only eaten rice for over 24 hours. Yangon's major selling point is that it has food Westerners with stomachs unaccustomed to street food can handle. Regardless, one day is enough for the capital, so Wednesday we book tickets for Bagan via Mandalay. Back at the hotel to pack, Chan appears again, wondering how our time in Burma had been thus far. He takes us around for a few hours, helping Chaz pick out a sweet longyi that all the men wear, and treating us to lunch.

Our flight to Bagan is pleasant enough, meeting a few friendly Americans in the process. This time we are prepared, following not only Rules 1 and 2 but also 3 (always have a bottle of alcohol) and 4 (always have an extra bottle of alcohol). Once situated at a hotel in New Bagan, Chaz and I sit down for dinner, deciding to take a walk after we eat. By the end of the meal though, he's feeling a bit off so we return to our room. And so begins near death by food poisoning. The poor guy becomes violently ill, in part more than likely to a severe adverse reaction to the Cipro he takes to help alleviate the issue. Anyone who knows me knows I am terrified of throwing up. I blame it on not having puked since I was 8! I can't manage to stay in the room longer than to poke me head in every hour to ensure he's still alive. At one point, he tells me he thinks he'll need an IV before the night is through. Great - it's 2AM in this tiny town in Myanmar, and his health travel insurance doesn't kick in for another 3 days. As I attempt to not freak out, he comes out of the bathroom asking I'm alright. I feel like an asshole but all I can do is bring him a bucket, sit outside and google health facilities in a 100km radius. At 5AM, he wanders off to go find more beverages and 10 minutes later I go in searching for him in a mild panic, afraid he's collapsed on the street. Thankfully a shop girl had a few Sprites to sell him. By the next morning, it's clear he's not going to die but he'll need a day to recovery and to make relentless fun of me for my mild freakout.

On Friday we head out early, renting e-bikes to explore the temples of Bagan. The landscape reminds me of the American Southwest with dry, flat plains (and bearing down sun!). Though here there are 2,200 surviving temples of varying sizes from the 9th to 13th centuries. They are more impressive from afar and we especially enjoyed taking in the view from the tower (despite the FOUR DOLLAR Sprite Chaz desperately needed). We ride our bikes among the temples - a bizarre experience - seeing few tourists and thankfully few vendors. However apparently the e-bikes aren't quite as reliable as hoped, as 3 of the 4 we ride had problems, such that Chaz has to walk/awkwardly ride one back over an hour whilst still recovering from his death day.

After a day of temples, it's time to move on. A 35-minute flight to Heho and we're suddenly surrounded by green vegetation, cool breeze and even cooler climate. Our time at Inle Lake is by far the highlight of Burma. Taking a day-long boat trip around the lake, we stop by a local traveling market, see how just about everything is made (jewelry, silk & lotus weaving, knives, boats, cigars), visit the massive floating gardens and peak into a pagoda. We had heard about a monastery where between copying scriptures, they teach cats to jump through hoops. Inquiring about said monastery, we are informed that the newer generation of cats is very lazy. Thus Jumping Cat Monastery has cats, but they no longer jump. Oh Burma...

We spend one final day by the pool, deciding if we want to spend another few days in the country or just cut our losses. We had wanted to head to either the ruins of Mrauk U or the incredible beaches of Ngapali but because overland travel is severely restricted for foreigners (and the roads are pretty terrible in monsoon season), we would need to fly to both locations, despite being a stone's throw from the Mrauk U when in Bagan. Apparently the far southern beaches are more or less untouched but basically impossible to go to at the moment. The downside to traveling in a country that is only recent open to Westerners and still has some massive issues to sort out (that I won't begin to go into here). So instead we plan our escape to Bangkok. Hopping onto a night bus to Yangon, we start an 11-hour ride to the mellifluous sound of a gentleman puking in front of us. Though running into a few friends who had taken a separate bus to Yangon, we should count ourselves lucky as their passage through the mountains caused a chain of vomitters. Getting in around 6AM, we hurry to the airport to try to catch a flight to Bangkok leaving at 8:30AM. The booking agent is selling the ticket for $60 more than we'd seen on their site, so we try to book online but can't and 5 minutes later she deems it too late to buy.

Thus we are spending 10 hours in the airport with our Chilean friends, eating pastries and trying to hash out our feelings about the past 9 days in this country. There was comedy to be sure, like watching the women working the hotels insist upon carrying Chaz's 25 kilo bag for him. And there were some incredible temples both in Yangon and Bagan. There were gorgeous scenic drives and the people were all open and friendly with a great sense of humor. I was surprised by how modern Yangon was and seemingly well to do. Surprised by how many people spoke some English and by how developed tourism was given the country's only been open to Westerners for less than 3 years. But I guess I expected to love it like I loved Cambodia when I first visited. I don't. Not in the way I thought I would after all I'd heard. For the first 4-5 days I kept giving it the benefit of the doubt. I told myself "It'll turn around and surprise you by being awesome!". But after 7 days, I started wondering why I was sticking up for this country (to Chaz mainly). I wanted to love it and was disappointed I didn't. I don't mind challenges while traveling so long as they're balanced out with some pretty awesome experiences. At the end of the day, all you can do is laugh and say "TIM" - this is Myanmar.

Now it's a plane to Bangkok, a train and ferry to Koh Tao for a few days of diving and then meeting up with my cousin Giri to climb Mt. Kinabalu in Malaysia. That is once I finally get out of this goddamn airport...