We shared a car with Liz and Matt; Nanda drove us to the airport, and we got on our short flight to Mandalay without mishap. We found a cabbie to take us in for the government regulated rate of 12,000 Kyat. He was very sweet and spoke a bit of English and was a decent enough driver. It took us about 45 minutes to drive to the other side of town and our hotel. Mandalay is a good bit more organized and less ramshackle than Yangon, and the traffic is not nearly as nuts, despite the omnipresence of motorbikes. The rule of the road is a little nerve wracking at first: motorbikes only look left, at oncoming traffic, when they enter the roadway, assuming that people in their lane will always make way for them. And it seems to work. Insofar as they successfully dodge cars, scooters, bikes, pedestrians, dogs, and chickens.
Mandalay Hill Resort was a bit of a disappointment after the Bagan Thande. A comfortable, but uniform “international” hotel with some Chinese glitz. The room was comfortable but pretty standard. We unpacked, strolled the grounds and had a cup of coffee and a snack before heading out for the walk up Mandalay Hill. This was our welcome to the less salubrious side of Myanmar. It is a long walk up—45 minutes and 1700 steps—on some pretty filthy walkways. And of course we had to leave our shoes at the bottom and walk barefoot. We dodged dogs and vendors the whole way up, skipping the various more or less tawdry shrines that marked each level and turning of the covered walkway. The highlight of the walk was a dog attack: Andrew snapped a photo of a little cur, who snarled and barked enough to make him jump. It turned out that it was a bitch with a litter of pups nearby. She did set the “dog tone” for the rest of the trip, though, with many, many rabies jokes. The top of Mandalay Hill is a large platform with the obligatory pagoda. We walked around taking pictures and admiring the expansive view: the area around Mandalay is flat as a pancake, and we could see many, many miles of the big river. On reaching the bottom again, we were relieved to find that the soles of our feet hadn’t rotted away.
Our driver from that morning picked us up at 4 for the drive to Sagaing, one of the most remarkable monastic districts in the country. Coming out of the city we drove on what must have been a fairly narrow isthmus between the river and a huge lake—the lake crossed by the U Bein bridge. As we drove through this very verdant countryside, we saw enormous piles of watermelons. It turns out that they were bound for China, but cost 700-1200 Kyat here. A related story: the fried crayfish that one often sees as street food has a “Chinese” aspect. They are caught on the Delta to the south and trucked north. But the Chinese buyers will only take live ones, and the dead ones are sold off here at a discount to street vendors (and presumably others). There is massive resentment toward China and the Chinese here—despite the fact that 30-40% of Mandalay’s population is Chinese (we also met many ethnically Chinese citizens in Kyaint Tong). Our cabbie from the first day in Mandalay had said “we send them teak and they send us plastic.”
We crossed into Sagaing across the newer of the two bridges: the older one dates from Colonial times. We passed by the Lion’s Gate, which is the beginning of the system of long covered walkways that wind among the dozens of pagodas and monasteries that dot the hillsides. The road immediately turned steeply upward, with hairpin turn after hairpin turn, and our driver’s car was having trouble regaining momentum if he had to slow down. Simple solution: he no longer slowed down, weaving in and out between cars, motorbikes, pedestrians, and the random dog. With our hair on end, we reached the parking area for the huge pagoda at the top, Soon U Pon Nya Shin. There is a gorgeous terrace surrounding the gilded, glowing stupa, paved in luminous light blue and green tiles.
And the hills all around are studded with temples, stupas, and monasteries.
We walked all around and then took it easy as the sun set over the hills.
On one side was the huge academy, the “university” for particularly gifted monks; on the other, the main Sagaing ridgeline with dozens of religious structures. Sue learned the name of the Frangipani tree, which blooms before it leafs out. Perhaps related to magnolia. We watched the lights twinkle on and were amazed again at the Christmas tree lights that adorn the holiest of structures.
In the twilight, I took one of my favorite photos: a woman singing her devotion to the Buddha, presumably from the sutras.
The ride down was much less eventful.
We had the driver take us to the Green Elephant, a well-known place near the Royal Palace and Moat. We had a pleasant dinner under the trees in the courtyard. Dinner was tasty enough—but Andrew was a little sick that night—the only “event” of the entire trip. The highlight of the day was the display of Andrew’s negotiating skills. The drivers in front of the restaurant wanted 5000 Kyat for the seven minute drive to the hotel, and wouldn’t come down. So we started walking, since Andrew was sure we were being taken. Quite a while later, we stopped in front of a restaurant filled with locals, flagged a cab…and payed 5000 Kyat for the ride home.
We had no guide for the next day, but Sue, with her formidable preparation, had a number for a travel agent in Mandalay. It later turned out that this was Mi Mi, the wife of Tun Tun, who would become our guide and friend in the years to come. Sue called her at 8:30 at night, and by 9 PM we had a guide and driver. We all immediately collapsed into bed at the hotel: we may catch up on our sleep by the end of the trip.