Yangon--->Innlay

Yangon, Day 2

We actually made it to breakfast this morn, which was included with our room rate. It was very pleasant, stir fried thin rice noodles with veggies and garlic, a flat banana fritter, and a side of passion fruit, along with "birthday" instant coffee, and tea. With breakfast in our bellies, we set off on an expedition: Kan Daw Gyi Lake, then, Shwe Dagon Pagoda.

 The morning started out cloudy and overcast, but the sun soon poked it's head. Lake entry fee for foreigners: $2 We had already made it about halfway across the wooden bridge over Kan Daw Gyi Lake before the sun's rays started pounding down on us, and had to stop and buy water from the only vendor we saw. Small bottle of water, 600 kyat. I guzzled mine and disposed of the empty plastic bottle in one of the small black trash bins that were located all along the wooden bridge.

Across the lake was a large, immensely ostentatious palace, that was in the shape of a boat. The lake and surrounding areas were very peaceful, and even though the body of water looked small on out map, it turned out to be a nice long, leisurely walk, with some shade offered from nearby trees. From Kan Daw Gyi Lake, it didn't take us very long to walk to Shwe Dagon Pagoda, across the road, up the slope, up up up the steps, a donation to the shoe check girl, a 5100 kyat pagoda entry fee, a 10,000 kyat deposit to borrow a top that covered my shoulders & a long skirt to cover my legs, and finally, we entered the pagoda.

 All I've got to say is WOW. I've been to countless places of religious worship in my travels, and my lifetime, but Shwe Dagon Pagoda took my breath away. The gold gilded stupa, visible from miles away, was massive, surrounded by a veritable "village" of smaller shrines. The sky was relatively clear and made for a beautiful blue backdrop against the ornate roof tops.

We hailed a cab in front of the Pagoda back to 32nd Street (2,000 kyat), and walked around for a long while, in search of a decent looking place to have lunch. I saw a red awning from a distance, and it turned out to be a Cafe offering a nice mix of western and asian dishes, as well as a coffee menu, but no wifi. After lunch we asked our server about a bus to Ngapali on the western coast of Myanmar, and she thought we were inquiring where the local bus stop was. After clarifying, she physically walked us a few doors over to a bus ticket kiosk, but the next ride to Ngapali was Friday, 6 days from now. Hmm.

We wandered into an actual travel agency, just as they were closing up, and the man who was walking out of there told us that during rainy season, there isn't much transportstion to the coast, and shook his head at me as i entertained the idea of renting a car. After much aimless wandering, we found a lady at the top 32nd Street who sold bus tickets. She too, told us that no buses run to the coast in the wet season, and helped us in selecting a destination. Tomorrow afternoon, we will be on an overnight bus to Innlay, bus fare: 15,000 kyat (about $15) Alleged travel time: 12 hours

Being that neither one of us has ever heard of Innlay before, we thought it'd be an interesting stop. 

First night in Yangon

11:18 pm

The shower in our $30 per night guesthouse, dispenses room temperature water, which shocked me even though I was forewarned. It took a nice long shower for me to feel even remotely clean...Yangon is not the tidiest of cities, and that's being pretty generous. I don't know if it's a cultural thing, but so far we've been here for all of 6 hours, and all I've seen is rubbish piled on top of rubbish, and after the rain, especially, it's not such a pretty sight. The pavements are all uneven, with potholes, and could be disastrous if one weren't paying attention. The backs of our legs were splotched with black marks from walking through puddles. The cars and buses drive frantically, and come out of nowhere. Pedestrians definitely don't have the right of way.

There are all sorts of street vendors: food, produce, dried goods, clothing, etc. On every street corner, there was a stand with green, heart shaped leaves, a white powdery paste, and various herbs in the middle. I do believe they chew the leaves. There was also a fried chicken stand, with various cuts of the bird, and the outsides were cooked, but the middle parts were raw. Men and women alike wear a sarong like bottom, which is the traditional garb, but a lot of people also wear modern clothes. The people dress kind of like their city looks: traditional with bits of modern day influences scattered about.

Surrounding our guesthouse are a golden pagoda, a catholic cathedral, and a mosque. The majority of older buildings have floor to ceiling wooden paneled doors, which remind me of the older buildings in Luang Prabang. Most of the buildings in Yangon are brightly painted every color of the rainbow. I was told by another traveler, a boisterous Puerto Rican, to walk up to the 19th Street and check out the cafes there, so we had dinner at Kôsan Cafe on 19th Street, in Chinatown, and it wasn't bad, contrary to my prior experiences with Burmese cuisine.

And I enjoyed Myanmar lager more than any other beer i've tried in southeast asia. Mixed nuts, cauliflower salad, ramen (of the instant variety) noodles with chicken, corn, and egg, sauteed pork, steamed rice, honey toast with sauteed bananas, and icecream, a mojito, and 2 large beers cost 13100 kyat (about $14). I found it odd how strangely the icecream was scooped...After dinner, we tried to find a cool bar to have another drink, but there didn't seem to be much nightlife, so we ended up at Singapore Food Junction, which looked to be a collection of cafes, and where I ended up having to use the restroom.

The restrooms in Yangon, starting at the airport, have all been squatters. The only western style toilet i've seen is the one at our guesthouse! Wifi seems to be few and far between, and even our guesthouse doesn't offer it. I'm thinking this could be good for me; to just disconnect from the world for the duration of this trip. I regret not having brought a book to read, but i guess this'll be a good time to write. I had a lot of fun reverting back to childhood at Alibaba Arcade in the Singapore Food Junction. I didn't know it walking in, but the Arcade is also a poor man's casino, and we played a bit of Roulette, after a super fun motorbike race!! Wowo.

Burmese people seem to be very friendly and helpful thus far, and extremely happy to see tourists in their country. Our cab driver from the airport spoke excellent English, and pointed out all the sights we should see along the way, along with giving us pointers on how to efficiently budget our money. Cab ride from Yangon Airport to Downtown Yangon was roughly 20 km, and cost $10. So far, so good.

 Young nuns asking for donations near our hotel in Yangon.

    

Thursday, June 6, 2013, the journey from Koh Phangan to Koh Tao,Thailand

Transfer service to Thongsala ferry port in Ban Tai, in the southern portion of Koh Phangan arrived promptly at 9:50 a.m. and turned out to be the resort owner's pops. Transportation was a silver pickup truck converted into a สองแถว, or song taew, literally translated to "2 rows". The 2 foreigners were put in the back of the pickup truck along the 2 rows, with only a roof to guard them from the elements, while I had the fortune of sitting next to pops, up front, with crisp & cool a/c, and had the great pleasure of chatting him up on the lumpy bumpy ride to the pier. 

The voyage in a covered vehicle was no less rugged than the motorbike ride in the opposite direction; it was akin to riding a small, three legged pony most of the way, albeit there was now sheet metal surrounding me, and airbags. Pops told me there had been one too many fatal accidents involving foreigners on motorbikes, and pointed out the altars and flowers on the side of the road where the corpses had been found, as evidence. He told me that almost every day, there was a fallen foreigner and motorbike in the gravel, and that the island should open a first aid stand on the treacherous and ever winding mountain pass. Pops and his family have been running their resort in the northeastern part of the island for many generations, and he's clearly seen, first hand, all of the Koh Phangan shenanigans. He mentioned how the local police officers go undercover and lure in unknowing foreigners and sell them drugs, then promptly arrest them. 

Oh silly tourists, don't you know, psychedelics ++ can be found at any bar on Had Rin. I think if you're foolish enough to be duped by a Thai police officer, you actually should spent the night in lala land. I think it's already pretty well known how corrupt the justice system on Koh Phangan is anyhow, so it came as no surprise to me to hear confirmation from a local elder. 

He also went on to warn me of motorbike rental shops and how they scam customers into thinking damage was done to their rented bikes, and then demanding payment for alleged repairs. Or even worse, parked rented bikes are stolen BY the rental places, and then reported missing, so that the renter has no choice but to pay for the stolen bike! Pops warned me not to get on a motorbike to my hotel on Koh Tao (my next destination) because the roads on that island are even worse than on Koh Phangan, and he couldn't believe I made it on one to his resort in the first place. Duly noted. Thanks pops!

Random rants whilst island hopping in the Gulf of Thailand...

  I had intended to wake up at 5 a.m. and catch the sunrise, but failed miserably! Thongtapan Resort has the most comfy bed I've ever had the pleasure of sleeping in, in Asia. It's almost as comfy as the bed I gave away when I decided to become a nomad last July. Yawn...another leisurely awakening...my cottage is several hundred meters up the mountain, which makes hurrying virtually impossible, for fear of plummeting to my death. Granite does not make for a soft landing, by any standards. And quite frankly, I'm done hurrying, period.

 I went in search of The Yoga Studio, which is located near the neighbouring beach, Had Thong Nai Pan Yai. Didn't make it very far, as my stomach was yelling angrily at me. It was clearly time for a much awaited lunch. The Star Hut provided stellar service, a delicious meal of flash fried garlic pepper soft shell crab, and stir fried morning glory with tons of fresh garlic, fish sauce, and a healthy dose of red and green chilies. Yum! Revived, I set back on my yoga studio quest. Sigh, didn't make it very far as I spotted a place called "Better Than Sex". I'm not gunnna lie, the name did catch my attention, but it was the coffee drinks that drew me in. It's kind of a mission to find an espresso machine anywhere here. 

Like a few of the buildings on Koh Phangan, Better Than Sex (which is a pizza joint) is built right into the large granite boulders that surround the island. It's really a majestic sight for sore eyes! After my cappucino break, I set out once more, to find the yoga studio, and lo and behold, a fresh fruit shake stand! Call me perpetually distracted...A mango and pineapple shake please! I watched as the fruit was freshly sliced into the blender, along with some ice, hold the simple syrup! As I sipped on my fruit shake, the girl behind the stand and I chatted. As well as her fruit shake empire, she also holds cooking classes, and asked if i could translate some words from Thai to English for her. Some thai vegetables really don't have an English translation, as far as I know, especially the herbs. And the English call cilantro, coriander, which are 2 different things in America! Basil and Holy Basil? Um...Confusing, much? 

By the by, I never made it to the yoga place, which was another 30 minutes walking, past the fork, up the hill, through the forest. Next time!  :) For the rest of the afternoon I frolicked up and down the beach, and kept my peanut M&M's away from one of the resort pups. Dogs aren't allowed to have chocolate, silly!

  My only standing chore is doing my laundry. Those of you that have been on the road with me have seen me and chuckled: I take a plastic bag, that hopefully doesn't have any holes in it, throw the dirty laundry in, along with some water, and biodegradable surfactant. I prefer the brand "Essence", which leaves my clothes smelling amazing. The laundry gets to soak for at least 10 minutes and then I rub the clothes together as best as I can, wring 'em out, and then it's time for a rinse. Then another wring. With any luck, whichever guesthouse I'm staying at, has provided a clothes line and pins, or a rack of some sort, and the clothes get to hang there until dry.

If you're wondering why I don't just send my clothes out to be laundered, sometimes there simply isn't laundry service in the sticks, and the few times I have sent my clothes out to be washed, they came back smelling moldy, and/or with detergent stains, or some articles of clothing were missing OR I had gained a few pieces of someone else's laundry! Yikes! Travel tip: The water that comes out of taps on most Southeast Asian islands is reconstituted, and looks like clear water that has had a splash of tea mixed in, in case you were wondering. 

  Sometimes I miss having a washer and dryer, a car, and other things that facilitate every day living. But if you asked me to choose between having those luxuries, and parting with the life rejuvenating experiences I've had on my journey thus far, well, I think we all know the answer to that one. Live in love. There is no other way. 

Thai Airways versus Air Asia

It's really all about the details...

Air Asia is a hot mess, and Thai Airways is definitely not. For example, I had booked a flight at 8:50 p.m. not knowing my minivan from Pai to Chiangmai would only take 3 hours coming down the mountain...i waited in the nice, orderly line at CNX and asked the reservation agent could move me to standy by status for the next available flight. She handed me a slip of paper with a time and place to check back in, booth #23 at 16:45. i headed to burger king on the 2nd floor, then came back down, and sure enough, there was an available seat on the next flight.

The balance between good and evil.

Masjid Raya in Medan

An intersection near my hotel in Medan

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Fresh out of Polonia airport, and my first time setting foot on Indonesian soil...It was a little past 7pm and I had just finished checking into Garuda Citra Hotel on Sisingamangaraja in Medan. Had intended to grab a bite from one of the food stalls, and was walking towards Masjid Raya, when I felt my purse being yanked off of my shoulder. 

There were 2 derelicts on a motorbike, and the scumbag passenger was trying to make off with my bag! I was relentless, and would not let go. No one is taking my passport and wallet without a fight, said I. As a result, my belongings still remain in my possession, but I was thrown onto the ground when the thief finally let go; I must've rolled around several times given the number of bruises and scrapes on my shoulders, arms, back, hip, and ankles, and my head took a severe pounding on the concrete.

 My glasses had been knocked clear off my face, and someone found them and put them back on for me. Everything went fuzzy for a few minutes, and my right ear was ringing. Now that I can see straight, there are scrapes on my knuckles, and toes, as added bonuses. If I had been a cartoon, I'd have had stars and birds all around my head. Several people ran over to help me up and handed me water. One man, a cab driver, asked if i wanted to go to a hospital. I said, yes, and he helped me stay upright, as I kept staggering. 5 minutes later, we had arrived at a clinic, and a huge welt had already formed on the right side of my head, just above my ear, close to my temple. 

I felt like throwing up, and almost did in the back of the cab; the impact had knocked the wind right out of me, and I was completely disoriented. The wait to see the doctor was luckily,very brief, and I was seen in virtually no time. The doctor examined me, and cleaned my wounds with betadine, then prescribed some medicine, assuring me that my head would be fine, and I should just rest. I would have been happy sleeping on the clinic bed for the night, I was so so sad. He initially wanted to give me an injection but I requested pills. At that point, any additional pain would have been too much. 

One of the bruises on my hip from the incident

Bruised left foot from the incident

Afterward, the cab driver took me to the pharmacy, went in and filled my prescription for me, brought it back out, bought me water, fed me the pills, and drove me back to my hotel. He helped me to my room, and told the hotel staff what had happened, and left. A short while later I heard knocking on my door. It was the cab driver and 3 of the hotel staff. The cab driver had brought me some sweet pandan breads! I cannot begin to express how grateful I am, for the kindness of complete strangers. The world would be a much better place if everyone was molded after my cab driver. And from now on, I will carry only a small satchel. Lesson learned. 

The cab driver who scraped me off the pavement. My hero! I took him out to dinner and got lots of takeout for his family.

A few days after the incident, I pieced myself back together and made my way to Berastagi, which is about 62 kilometers south of Medan. Despite my badly bruised foot and hip, I managed to (slowly) hike Gunung Sibayak at 2,212 meters.

At the summit of Gunung Sibayak in Berastagi

Some lovely local girls in Berastagi who asked me to teach them English

In this day and age...

Half past 7 and i left my hotel, unchaperoned as always, in search of satay. i didn't have to look very far; Rex, which is a food court that is open only in the evenings, is right across from Hotel Medan where i'm staying...i just picked a random satay cart, and ordered 4 sate sapi skewers (beef satay) nasi, and te manis (sweet tea) and found a table right in the middle of the curb. there was a couple to my left, and 4 local men at the table to my right. i haven't seen any women out at night without a male chaperone. apparently the curfew for women in these parts is 10 p.m.                      

The whole time i've been seated, i hear laughing and catcalling from the table to my right. my te manis arrives, and i stir every single granule of sugar until each and every granule has dissolved into the black tea. more laughing and catcalling continues in the background... when i finally turn and glare at the obnoxious men, they point at the food which has arrived at their table and beckon me over. i shake my head and tell them i have not a clue what they're saying. laughing continues then dies down; being that there is food on their table now, they're not as boisterous. my 4 skewers arrive, and i basically snort them, and order 4 more. they were definitely asian sized skewers! a yummy coconut fish head-seafood stew accompanies my meal. i snort the next 4 skewers, then polish of my te manis. the table on my right has finished eating as well, and more catcalling commences.

i look over, and one of the men has his cell phone out and points to it then points at me. i ask for the check. and leave. this is definitely not a city that is accustomed to single female travelers. I was told on the way here by a group of Aceh women in the same bus, that even i, a foreigner, must not wear shorts or tank tops in Aceh, or my clothes would get snipped right off of me, or worse. The women spoke as much English as I speak Indonesian, so we used the universal language of sign.

i think it's peculiar, in a place where the women are so reserved, that the men are the polar opposite. Woman have a curfew of 10 pm. All females must wear traditional headdresses, and cover all flesh from the head down (leaving only the face exposed) but the men are allowed to dress as modern as they'd like. I understand that this is part of their religion, and tradition, but i can't imagine it's fun for these women to don so many layers of clothing in this preposterous heat and humidity, day in and day out, and somehow look as pristine and beautiful as they always seem to. Much respect.