November 30, 2016

Koh Lanta via Railay - Thailand

The overnight train from Bangkok to Surat Thani was what I expected. Nice, comfortable, and I got some decent sleep. At Surant Thani it was a 2+ hour bus ride to Krabi Town where I’d figure out what to do next.

Upon arriving in Surant Thani everyone with a ticket for an onward bus was hustled into a couple of small restaurants. Oh, I get it, the tour company operating the bus wants everyone to eat at their restaurant before departing. If you didn’t order something you were asked to go to the bus and wait.

The bus departed about an hour after arriving. It was a nice bus but the driver was surly. About an hour and a half into the ride I asked the driver if there would be a restroom stop as several people needed one. A couple of minutes later he pulled to the side of the open road. It was too public for me to urinate but one guy from Europe really appreciated me saying something and had no problem going as cars whizzed by. Everyone else just held it except for the driver who decided he needed to go as well. He pissed behind the bus..

Near Krabi town the bus took a back way down a narrow road and dropped everyone at a business that arranges tours. The intention was to get people to book an onward ticket or reservation with them. What a racket. The drop was disorienting. I was told town center was 5 km away and that it would cost another 50 Bhat to get a ride there. One backpacker demanded to be taken to town for free and was kind of making a scene. I just went ahead and paid the extra $1.60 or so because I didn’t really know where I was.

Krabi town center was less than a mile away and that is where I was dropped. The town did not appeal to me at all but I needed to eat. I walked into a cheap eats place and ordered fish and chips which were not very good. I renamed Krabi town, Krappy town, and started to look for a way out. I had already intended to go to Railay beach and saw in my guide book that it was really close. It’s located on a peninsula that is only reachable by boat.

The boat dock was easy to find. While waiting for the boat I met a couple of young women from Germany who complained how they kept running into Germans. The Germans are everywhere. They had also just traveled from Myanmar and talked about how everyone gets sick there.

The boat ride was what I expected but a little wet. Mixed overcast skies with gusty winds detracted from the beauty. The boat dropped us at floating pier that was rolling with the waves of high tide. I proceeded towards land.

The setting for Railay’s beaches is undoubtedly beautiful if not spectacular. Exposed limestone karst cliffs with colors of gray, rust, and white rise up to form steep hills covered with thick tropical forest. The Peninsula forms two main beaches. One on the east and one on the west. The east side is windward and a little rocky. The west side is calm and sandy. Along both beaches are resorts. The short five minute walk through the woods between both beaches in lined with restaurants, bars, and patrolled by a bandit monkeys that might grab your leg until you let go of your fruit shake.

Yes, it’s beautiful but aside of natural beauty Railay lacks real character. It entirely caters to the western tourists like gringos at a Mexican resort. By time I arrived at Railay I was a bit wired from the travel and figured it would be best to just get a place for the night. The west side was far too expensive. The East side is expensive but considerably less so. Fine for a night or two. The cheap backpacker places were located at some other hippy beach that I’d have to wait for low tide to access or hire a boat. Hippy funky can be both good and/or not so good. I didn’t want to mess with that so I checked out three places. I chose a worn bungalow in a very nice setting but wound up paying twice what I would have expected. Good for a night.

I had a beer but didn’t find it appealing. I ordered a Pad Thai for an early dinner but it wasn’t very good. Probably because I asked for no MSG. I walked around. I went for a swim in the lovely hotel pool set below a cliff but the water was cold. The sunset on the west beach was nice and the fruit shake I had while watching was very good. I found a bar for conversation but the happy hour Mojito I ordered was absolutely terrible and I don’t think it had hardly any alcohol which ironically was probably a good thing.

Earlier that day, upon arriving in Railay, I met an African American backpacker from the States. I mention African American because I rarely see someone black from the USA backpacking around Asia, especially alone. He was a really cool guy and had been hopping Islands for the past few weeks. He seemed to be very good at finding the gems on each Island and was great for getting advice. He said no matter the place you can always find some cool spots because most tourist just want to drink and lay on the beach. I told him I really wasn’t feeling Railay. He advised I head south to Koh Lanta and Caliope. Although he hadn’t been to either Island he had heard good things. I had originally intended to do some rock climbing on Railay as it’s world known but also a bit of a scene. I decided to pass since I haven’t climbed in years and I’d probably just pull a muscle in my back or something.

Krabi and Raily thus far feel a little like reverse culture shock. I think by time I left Myanmar I was just getting the feel a more foreign and more adventurous experience. There is nothing secret or adventurous in my opinion when it comes to Thailand. It’s all been discovered and western tourists, mostly Europeans, come in crowds of crowds. I must admit it’s for a good reason but tourism can dilute authenticity. I need to find my place in the sun. It might take a few days but when I do I’ll plant myself for a bit. Railay wasn’t feeling like the place. At least at the moment.

Without much hesitation, after one night, I purchased a boat ticket to Koh Lanta first thing in the morning. Because of the sheer beauty of Railey I sensed my departure was premature but I really felt like moving on. I waited on the West side beach while others showed up. From there it was a wet landing for a long tail boat to be shuttled to a larger boat for Koh Lanta. The Koh Lanta ferry was packed and stacked with travelers and backpacks. The view of Railay was more impressive from the boat and I could see several other beaches aside of East and West. Again, I felt my departure was a bit too soon but I was still happy to be going. I entertained the thought of possibly returning later.

As the boat left Railey I took a seat inside by the window. The waters were calm and the ride smooth. I bought a beer from a guy walking around with a bucket full. This time the beer tasted right, I felt like my old self, the old self that’s traveled Asia in the past. With no real plan, no place to stay, and not a worry in the world I felt completely relaxed and in my element. I really enjoyed the two hour ride.

The boat dock at Koh Lanta is a racket. They expect everyone, mainly foreigners, to pay a 10 Bhat cleaning fee which certainly does not go towards cleaning. I guess the boat dock cleaning fee is a common government scam in Thailand. Everyone is funneled through a narrow exit lined with aggressive hawkers and touts. “Where you going? You need Taxi ?” I ignored the touts and cleverly got around not paying the 10 Bhat fee because the guys taking money were so overwhelmed. I figured I’d cleanse my Karma by leaving the 10 Bhat fee as part of a tip when I had lunch. Tips are not normally expected in Thailand aside of more upscale restaurants etc.

I took a sharp right out of the dock and shook the remaining touts in a couple of blocks. I found a nice peaceful restaurant built over the water and enjoyed a good curry and drink for less than $4. Over lunch I consulted my Lonely Planet guide to Thailand’s beaches and Islands and figured Klong Nin would be a good beach to start. I consulted with a couple of travel agents as to what I’d expect to pay for transportation to get there and was told 150 to 200 Bhat for a motor bike tuk tuk. It’s basically a motor bike with a covered side car.

It pays to do a little inquiring before hiring a tuk tuk as all rates are negotiable. A young Muslim woman with pink tuk tuk asked me where I was going. I told her. She said 300 Bhat. I said 150. She made a funny face and I said 175. She said it was far to go with a tuk tuk but 200. I said Ok.

Heading out of the main town of Ban Sala Dan was not very nice but at least I felt like I was in a foreign environment again. A few more miles and things looked better. A turn to the right and things looked much better. She asked where I was staying and I told her I didn’t know. She said there were many places and dropped me at the perfect spot to start my search.

To my right the beach was blocked by restaurants and hotels. Simple mid-range and budget type places with character. Pretty much what I was looking for. To the left were more hotels, shops, etc… So, I started inquiring. Just about every place had availability because the real tourist season doesn’t start until mid December. There was a better value to be had on the left side of the road but I wanted to be by the beach on the right side.

After about an hour or so I arrived at what I wanted. For 800 bhat, about $23 USD, I have a top level room on a two story building with a view, fan, a/c, shower and toilet. It’s simple, nice, clean, and just steps from a sandy beach. This is the Thailand I was expecting. Accommodation by the beach for $20 to $30. Meals for $4 to $5. An hour Massage (legitimate) on the beach for $10 to $15. Drinks for $1 to $5. Motor Bike rental, all day, $5 to $6. And, if you need anything, transportation, etc. it can be arranged by a travel agent at the hotel for as cheap you can find anywhere.

Koh Lanta is a real island with real people. The economy is tourist based but much more real and authentic than Railey. It’s also noticeably Muslim. Thailand is a Buddhist country but the Southern portion near Malaysia is largely Muslim. Many women are covered and wear a head covering with only the face exposed. The first thing I think of is how uncomfortable it must be in the tropical heat and humidity. It’s quite a contrast seeing a bikini clad European next to a local traditional Muslim woman working at a beach resort.

As for Khlong Nin beach? It’s a nice beach, not bad. I wouldn’t call it spectacular compared to some of the other places I’ve been but it’s a great place to chill. Swimming is good and the water is clean however there is a bit of a shore break at high tide so low tide is better for a dip. However, you still need to be a little mindful as the waves come in sets and break a little hard. Better to swim out beyond the breaks between sets and watch the swells. Yesterday I got pretty relaxed in the water and got hammered by a rouge wave when I wasn’t paying attention. The upside I suppose is that it totally cleaned out my sinuses. Whatever remnant of the cold I got in Burma is totally gone.

I’ve been on the move ever since leaving Inle Lake in Myanmar so today I’ll just hang out at the beach. It’s very quiet. Not many tourists. The waves are coming in pretty strong with high tide and crashing with a rhythmic cadence. The skies are overcast. They say the sun may come out later but today its doesn’t really matter as far as I'm concerned…

November 28, 2016

Bangkok Stopover


I’ve more or less given up coffee and alcohol due to various reasons. Since I’ve been feeling more like myself these days I decided to order a coffee at a coffee shop in Bangkok overlooking a busy street by the BTS Skytrain. All I saw on the menu was espresso this and that. I just wanted a small weak cup with a lot of milk. Communication was not very good as I tried to convey that I didn’t want anything strong, etc. So, what did I get? I’m not sure. A glass with a small bit of hot milk on the bottom and a bunch of ice cubes made of coffee with a small carafe of milk on the side. The question is this. Are the ice cubes espresso or drip coffee? Partway thru the glass I am beginning to think espresso. I think I better stop.
Bangkok is modern and fast paced. A world away from Yangon, Myanmar. Myanmar, minus bad internet and cell phones, is more like Asia was in the 1980’s. Right now I’m in the Sukhumvit area which hosts plenty of variety. The old and new combine nicely for traditional street eats, chic shopping centers, fancy hotels or backpacker hostels. A lot of expats live in the area so if you need any of your western cravings satisfied they can be easily found in the way of foods and such.
Last night I stayed at a hostel I’ve stayed at in the past. I took a single room for the night which was wonderfully quiet. It was the best night’s sleep I’ve had so far on this trip. I easily found my way from the old airport to the hostel via bus and skytrain. The subway and skytrain system are great in Bangkok. That combined with a little walking or short taxi ride makes just about anything in the city very accessible. I’ve gotten re-acquainted with Bangkok and really like the feel of the city. Yesterday evening I visited a rooftop bar on the 48th floor of the Marriot which is about a five minute walk from the hostel. The view is spectacular.
My flight from Yangon was on time and easy. I almost got in a little trouble re-entering Thailand. The immigration officer was on his game and didn’t like my full passport. I have two blank pages in the back but he was keen to know that they are not to be used for visa’s. Most immigration officers would not catch it as a third page, not to be used for visa’s, had been filled. The officer was stern. I explained that this would be the last trip with the passport and that I’d be flying home to the States in a couple of weeks. He accepted my explanation but was firm in telling me that I would not be allowed back into Thailand without a new passport. There was just enough space on one proper page for an entry and exit stamp. I was issued a variation of the normal thirty day visa with a restriction code.
I had been warned by another diligent immigration officer in New Zealand last winter but forgot until it was about time for me to leave on this trip. I gambled that I would be ok and ultimately I am but if I had any intention of visiting another country before going home I’d be hung up with the U.S. consulate for a while in Bangkok. Instead, I’ll apply for a renewal as soon as I get home.
Today I’ve just been taking it easy. Tonight I’ll take the train down south which I’m really looking forward to. The first stop will be Krabi where I’ll likely stay a couple of nights before hoping boats to various Islands for a couple of weeks.

November 26, 2016

Inle Lake - Last Stop - Two Weeks In Myanmar












Two weeks in Myanmar is barely enough time. You really need at least three or four, however, after two weeks I am ready to return to Thailand. By developing/third world standards Myanmar is easy to travel. The people are nice and for the most part very honest. Theft and scams are at a minimum. Touts are not overbearing as the people are quite polite about it and not too pushy. However, Myanmar remains a very poor country. The poorest in Southeast Asia

While traveling through places like Bagan and Inle Lake it’s easy to travel in a bubble as tourism is well established. Food and lodging can be found at a higher standard. Outside of few select tourist spots you can’t help but notice the poverty and all that goes with it. In that regard traveling becomes a little tiring unless you are totally up for it. The noise, pollution, garbage, language difficulties, and person sitting behind you on a packed bus with a bad cough become wearing. Throw in a likely bout of travelers diarrhea and/or a cold and it becomes a bit exhausting.
For the most part Myanmar is what I expected and well worth the trip. It’s been interesting for me to return to such an environment to see how I’d like it. I’d say during the years of 2009 to 2011 I probably would have been inclined to stay longer because I had more of an interest in the kind of experience that a country like Myanmar offers but now my interest seem to be swaying the other direction. The train trip from Yangon to Bagan, the temples of Bagan and the trek from Kalaw to Inle Lake were all great experiences but enough for now.

My last day in Myanmar was spent on a long tail boat upon Inle Lake with four other backpacker travelers. It was easy to find a group. I just went down to the boat dock which was located across from a budget hotel/hostel where I met a guy from France with a guy from New Zealand and two girls from Indonesia. A boat for the entire day cost around $14 USD and we split the cost which made it very cheap.

The ride around the lake and it’s channels was quite beautiful as we passed traditional fishermen and floating gardens but the stops at different shops and so forth was a bit canned with premium priced souvenirs for unsuspecting tourists. Of course they claim just about everything is made locally or by themselves but you never really know for sure. One shop did host a couple of long neck women, the only ones I saw as there aren’t many left, who were weaving scarves. In retrospect I kind of wish I’d bought a scarf as they were kind of unique and I believe the ones being sold were actually made by them. You have to be careful that the souvenirs are authentic to Myanmar and not Chinese knockoffs. A local business man can send an authentic curio to a factory in China and have them bang out a thousand or more for the next tourist season.

The two nights of luxury in a $30 hotel room was followed by a ride in a back of a truck for 30 minutes to a road intersection with a makeshift bus station where I stood in the dark for another half hour waiting for a VIP bus.

I needed to get back to Yangon to catch my flight back to Bangkok. The VIP bus was nice and modern. The seats were wide and lean far back but the arctic air conditioning made it a bit uncomfortable. Throw in bad winding mountain roads, a hint of motion sickness, the obligatory coughing person in the seat behind and the 11 hour ride doesn’t feel so VIP. The ticket cost around $23 USD and included a snack, throw away toothbrush and disposable wet towel.


The bus station in Yangon is a nightmare. It’s not bad when you arrive in the city and simply hop into a taxi but good luck if trying to find your bus out of the city. I was really glad I had taken the train out of Yangon which is very easy. The Bus arrived at 6 am and I decided to hop a taxi with three French backpackers directly to the airport. My flight to Bangkok was not scheduled to leave until nearly 1 pm but I knew there was an earlier flight at 8:30 am on the same airline. I also knew there were seats available.

I arrived at the airport with the French at 6:30 am and cued up in line. I was persistent and polite as I went to 1, 2, and 3 lines. No success. Not possible. I would have to wait until my scheduled flight at 12:55. In some countries I might have been able to bribe my way onto an earlier flight but that doesn’t appear to be the way it works in Myanmar.

Anyway, I’ll still arrive in Bangkok at a reasonable time where I’m already booked into a single room at a quiet peaceful hostel I’ve stayed at before. I’ll have all day to rest before catching a sleeper berth on a night train Monday to Krabi in the south of Thailand. The air conditioned overnight sleeper trains in Thailand are very nice and clean. An attendant makes your bed for you in the evening.

Although Thailand has it’s share of poor, especially in the rural areas, I don’t really consider it to be a third world country anymore. It’s a very easy and very comfortable place to travel. A great place for a vacation which is exactly what I intend it to be. Beaches, islands, snorkeling and a little rock climbing is what I plan to do.

As for the moment, I am sitting at a KFC at Yangon International Airport feeling a little shaky after all day on a boat followed by a bumpy eleven hour bus ride with little sleep. The minor cold I picked up is well on its way out but it’s leaving me with a hint of a cough. Nothing that an ocean breeze can’t cure.

November 25, 2016

Kalaw to Inle Lake - A Walk In The Hills
















It was nice to walk right out of the hotel with pack upon back and join a group of 4 others and local guide without having to think about a bus, taxi, etc. The next three days would take us on a walk over hills and through villages upon mixed paths of narrow trail and rural road. At the end of the walk we would hop a long tail boat up a river and across Inle lake to the town of Nyuangshwe.

I originally expected our guide to be the Sikh who owned the guest house that I had arranged the trek with. By the morning of the walk the group had grown to eleven. So, true to his word, the Sikh by the name of Robin, had said he did not like to walk with groups of more than five or six. He thus broke the group in two and hired another guide whose group I walked with. This arrangement proved to work out very well. In the evening we met up with Robins group for dinner and lodging.

Lodging was very basic. A pad with blanket. The first night was on the floor of the second story in a two story building. The second night was on a elevated platform made of Bamboo on the ground floor of a two story building. Each night we had a cook who cooked over open fire as they have done forever.

Our route did well to keep us up on higher ridges after crossing or skirting valleys. Our guide spoke good English and regularly showed us local plants and such. Since he knew many of the people in the villages there was a lot of interaction with locals. We would stop to talk with people harvesting crops and took a couple of breaks at a village monastery to have tea with a monk.

The hill people are agricultural and very poor but they seem to have what they basically need. For the most part they appear to be happy. Although life is hard I can’t say it’s complicated like it is in more developed countries. It’s quite simple. Food, shelter, and the help of family and friends is all you really need but physically it’s hard.

Just about all of the farming is done by hand or cow drawn plow. I only saw one farmer using a gas operated machine to till soil. All of the harvesting of rice, ginger, red pepper, etc. was being done hunched over and by hand. The monetary end result is a pittance considering all of the labor. One thing that has really made an impression on me during this trip is hard work and how it’s defined.

I work hard at what I do in the States but it’s by no means the same as what you see in developing countries. My work is not literal back breaking work. I do ok with what I make as a single person but by American standards it’s not a lot. However, I can still afford to hop on a plane and travel to places like Myanmar where I can live like a rich man staying in nice hotels for $25 or $30, if I so choose, without a problem. Or, I can join a guide with a small group for an all inclusive three day trek through the hills for around $40 USD. In Myanmar I just happen to be wealthy by relative terms because of the country I come from. They say that ten percent of the world’s population holds ninety percent of the world’s wealth. Well, as modest as my life and income may be in the states I think it’s obvious that I’m am very lucky to be a part of the 10%.  No matter how hard someone works in a developing country it’s extremely difficult to get ahead and nearly impossible if they don’t have an education and/or cannot speak English.

The walking/hiking was nice with rolling and varied terrain. Plenty of views filled with the day to day life of rural Myanmar culture. Although the villages remain quite primitive and basic by today’s standards the level of sanitation has improved thanks to non-government organizations. Our guide said that in the past people just used the toilet in the forest or pretty much anywhere. Now, they have properly designated squat toilet pits that everyone seems to be good about using. Also, each town has what is supposed to be a good well for water but I wouldn’t recommend drinking any untreated water in Myanmar. Myanmar has proven to be a country where you need to be careful about the food and water. It seems like just about everyone new to the country gets something. Usually travelers diarrhea.

By the end of the third day I was ready to be done. Although the level of sanitation has improved in the hill villages it did not prevent a cold bug from going around our group. During the evening it was a group of eleven. At the start of the trek the Swiss man who I had booked the trek with showed up with a cold. By the end of the walk five or six had the cold including myself. I think it was exacerbated by wood smoke from cooking. All of the cooking is done over a wood fire indoors with the only venting being open doors or windows.

Fortunately, the cold is not the kind that knocks you out. It’s the kind that just makes you a little tired and unmotivated. Luckily, I didn’t come down with it until the second day and it didn’t detract from the overall experience too much.

At the end of the trek we had lunch and boarded long tail boats for about an hour ride up river to Inle Lake and Nyaungshwe. Upon arrival Robin led us to a hotel where our extra gear, that wasn’t needed for the trek, had been shuttled. I took a look at aroom that was available for $15. It was ok but not particularly clean. With a wide arrange of hotels I figured I’d look elsewhere, however, I wasn’t feeling great with a runny nose.

As I walked on I saw a large nice looking five story hotel rising above the dust, noise, and speeding motor scooters. I rounded a corner past a fat dead rat laying in an ally. A little further I wandered in to take a look. They had a single on the top floor with a view for $35. I offered $30 and they readily accepted. Probably should have offered $25. Anyway, $30 gets me a very nice and clean room with an included east meets west breakfast buffet. The view is of town, the lake in the distance, and a pagoda with lights that flash like a disco at night. Just a few extra dollars and the standard can really go up, however, for Southeast Asia I still think Myanmar is kind of expensive. Most of all my room is super quiet which isn’t always easy to find Asia. 

I don’t know if it’s just because I'm getting older but I don’t mind paying a little extra for something nicer as long as it’s a good value. I figure I’m going to rough it plenty enough without trying and no feel compelled to pinch my pennies and suffer like a twenty year old college student. I don’t have to. It’s just not necessary if it’s not necessary. At fifty one I think it’s safe to say I’ve graduated.

The town of Nyaungshwe is quite pleasant and well set up for tourism. The main attraction is Inle lake which is really quite beautiful and set up in a broad mountain valley. The mornings are quite cold and can get down to freezing at night with the daytime temps being just about perfect. What’s also nice about the lake and area I hiked through is that it’s above the Malaria and Dengue which is more of a problem during the rainy season. Not so much during the dry season which it is now. Since it’s a flat valley it’s good for biking. You can rent a bike for a dollar a day.
As for me it’s two nights in Nyaungshwe then a night bus back to Yangon to catch a flight to Bangkok. Two week is too little time for Myanmar. I could easily go another week but the beaches and islands of Southern Thailand are calling.

November 20, 2016

On To Kalaw, Burma

After viewing the sunset on my final night in Began I turned in the scooter and got to formulating a plan for the rest of my time in Burma. I was over thinking when I ran into an Australian brother and sister who I had met the previous day and who had also happened to be on the Mt Popa day trip. We decided to get dinner together.

The sister seemed to be a pretty seasoned traveler and I expressed my indecision as to what to do next. She was brilliant in helping me sort it out and could relate to my predicament. I really wanted to take the boat up the Ayeyarwady but I didn’t really want to spend time in Mandalay. From there I wanted to see Inle Lake but I needed to consider how transport can be lengthy and un predictable in a third world country. I need not forget a real passion and interest for me is hiking. It was really more obvious than I was realizing. Why not go straight to Kalaw? From there hikes or treks as they call it can be arranged through hill tribe villages to Inle Lake. From Inle Lake I could arrange for a bus to Yangon where I’ll catch a flight back to Bangkok. Perfect. However, for whatever reason, I still had a strong desire to boat up the Ayeryarwady. Sometime after 9 pm I made a final decision and bought a minivan ticket to Kalaw.

The minivan picked me up at 7:30 am then stopped by the hostel to pick up a Swiss man and a couple from Holland. After that we drove all over the place picking up some local people and stuff to be put on the roof. We made a stop at what seemed like someone’s home then then finally left Bagan where we drove to another village and picked up some more people and stuff. The van was full with the driver’s helper riding on the roof. Finally, we got going for real.

The gentleman sitting next to me was forty five and from Switzerland. A well seasoned traveler with the intentions of doing the same kind of hike I wanted to do. We talked along the way and decided we would look into making arrangements together. The van rolled on.
We crossed wide long valley with the occasional dirty poor town for quite awhile before we could see hills in the distance. The hills got bigger and closer. Finally, we began to climb, and climb, and climb, slowly.
It was a long van ride that took most of the day. I was happy to see that Kalaw was a much nicer place than some of the villages passed on the way up. It’s set in a lovely high valley. The air is crisp and cool. Aside of dusty streets it’s a pretty clean place. As they say the crap flows downhill. Kalaw is at the top of the hill so to speak. With a number of hotels and plenty of daylight left I decided check out options for accommodation. Most all of the accommodation I looked at was ok but the hotel on top a of hill overlooking the village was by far the best in opinion. They only had one night available but I decided to take it. Thirty dollars for a very nice and quiet European standard hotel with breakfast and view. Luxury.
In the process of looking for a place I met up with the Swiss Guy whose last name is “Boss” but whose first name is not easy to remember. I just call him Boss. I also met up with the owner of a guest house who happens to be a guide who grew up in the in the village and has been leading treks for 20 years. Within a couple of hours I had a place for the night and a guide for a 3 day hike to Inle Lake that will leave at 9 am on Tuesday.
That evening Boss and I went for dinner at a Nepalese restaurant. Kalaw kind of reminds me of a Himalayan hill village. A lot of the people living in Kalaw have descended from migrants who came over from India and Nepal to work for the British in the 1940’s. Mostly for the railroad. Our trekking guide is a Sikh who was born in the Kalaw but his father moved here from northern India.
So, I arrived in Kawlaw on Sunday. Today is Monday. I’ve decided to just hang out and enjoy the village for the day. Tomorrow I’ll start the Trek to Inle Lake. So far there with be four of us and the guide. Our guide says he limits his groups to 5 or 6.
On another note. The internet has been pretty bad in Burma and the last post took me a few hours due to technical issues otherwise I probably would have posted more with photos by now. When I get back to Thailand, internet access should be fine.

Around Bagan & Mt Popa










By time I found accommodation in Bagan I really wasn’t feeling well and I think I was running a low-grade fever with the need for a toilet more than usual. I had no problem going to bed at 6 pm and didn’t get up until 6 am. Fortunately I was feeling much better the next morning and I was up for doing something. My appetite came back. Thankfully, whatever illness I had turned out to be a 24 hour bug.
I by chance made a very good choice of hotels. My spacious room was set back in nice traditional Burmese style courtyard. The staff consisted of mostly all young local girls who smiled a lot and spoke just enough English. The included breakfast was good.
Bagan is set on a flat plane next to the Ayeyarwady river filled with Buddhist temples dating back to different periods. There are said to be upwards of 3,000 in number. Dirt roads and trails weave all over the place which make for good access and exploration. Some temples remain untouched and overgrown while others have seen improvements and restoration. The best way to see the temples is to rent an electric scooter for less than five dollars a day and get lost. So, that’s what I did for two days.
November through January is the dry season and the time that most tourists visit Bagan. The local people are all very nice, friendly, and welcoming. At the larger and more popular temples many vendors sell souvenirs and such. Some are quite persistent without being too pushy and know when to back off.
At one of the lesser popular temples there was a young gentleman selling sand paintings on canvas. He greeted me, asked where I was from, and if I would look at his paintings. I kind of brushed him off but he was persistent in a nice way. As I was about to leave he asked if I wanted to go the top of the temple for a view. I went ahead and took him up on the offer and he began to show me around like a tour guide. The view was great and one I would have missed had he not shown me a somewhat hidden stairway.
After the tour we were back to the paintings. He claimed the paintings were done by him and his family which I seriously doubt. I am not sure how they are produced but vendors all over the temple plane were selling them. They were colorful and interesting but I don’t like picking much stuff while traveling with a backpack. Although I didn’t not want to buy a painting I was deep into the realm of feeling obligated so I gave the guy a tip which he had no problem taking, however, his expression showed that he really preferred I’d buy a painting.
I got a lot of use out of the Chinese made electric scooters I rented. They don’t have a lot of power but I was amazed how a battery could go all day. They are fairly durable and handle bumpy dirt roads and single track trail just fine with a top speed of 25 or 30 mph. The is the option of renting bikes but the scooters are just a lot more efficient because there is so much ground to cover.
After two days of rolling around on a scooter and roaming around temples. I signed up for a day trip to Mt Popa. Mt Popa is a temple built on top of a point on the slopes of an old overgrown volcano. I signed up with a small group arraned with a hostel in New Bagan called Ostello Bello. The hostel is apparently owned by some Italians and is a magnet for young backpackers in their 20’s. It’s quite a scene and set up very well for the young traveler, however, $25 to $30 for a dorm bed in Southeast Asia, is a crazy high considering you can have nice a nice hotel room at the same cost. I guess it’s safety in numbers, a comfort thing, or that everything is done up to a Western European standard that attracts the crowds. For me, I found the hostel to be totally unappealing but easy for hopping on a budget tour.
There were seven of us in the minivan for the ride to Mt Popa. I sat up front with the driver who spoke good English with an accent that was heavy but not too heavy so we could engage in reasonably good conversation. Burma is a very poor country and I was curious as to what was a average wage for a days work. In general, it comes out to be between three to six dollars a day. Someone working at a hotel might make 100 dollars salary for a month in the low season but might get a bonus in the tourist season and make $150 a month. Of course, you work every day. With drivers, guides, and vendors it can vary during the tourist season based on tips and/or how much is sold. As we passed a road crew I asked how much a worker might make. The kid boiling tar in barrels over a wood fire might make three or four bucks a day. The women in flip flops laying down stones by hand or throwing chip over tar all day long make about three or four bucks a day. The men make a dollar or two more a day for the same job.
On the way to Mt Popa we stopped at a roadside place I assume is set up for tourist to see a mill press driven by cow make peanut oil, a woman make tamarind sweets and a local moonshine still where whisky was being made from a mix of palm kernel and rice.
Eventually we made it to Mt Popa. It sits impressively atop a point with a small busy tightly packed village at its base. Our driver dropped us at the bottom of the point where we could access the 777 steps to the top. I wandered off to buy a bottle of water and immediately lost the group but for the next hour and a half we were on our own anyway.
The walk up the temple starts from a busy dirty dirt street and ascends a short flight of steps to a pathway through tightly packed souvenir vendors which creates a tunnel. At the end of the tunnel you come to a another busy entrance and the start of the stairs to the top. As with all the temples in Burma you have to take your shoes off and socks are not allowed. It’s not so bad at the temples of Bagan but Mt Popo was very busy and the beginning steps were dirty with small monkeys running about. I paused to assess the best approach.
I decided not to leave my shoes at the bottom. Too many people. Although Burmese seem very honest and theft doesn’t seem to be much of an issue I thought it best to carry my shoes. So, off with the shoes and socks. I made sure my pack was properly zipped and I had a good hand on everything because of the monkeys. The first couple of flights were kind of gross with bits of dried smashed monkey poop but not far above that were actual stairway cleaners. Why they couldn’t start a little lower I don’t know because once I started pass the cleaners the steps were ok. The cleaners asked for money. I gave one a small amount. Up the steps I climbed with the crowds.
Along the way were colorfully decorated rooms to the side with a golden Buddha. There seemed to be a real money them with the Buddha’s decorated with bills, flashing lights like you would see on a Christmas tree, donation boxes, and cleaners asking for money. Up top the Buddha’s got a little bigger with more donation boxes and a couple of people with desks accepting donations. There was one area that even had the names of individuals painted on plaques with their donation like Bob Smith from California $20. I am not sure of the real significance of the temple but it appears to be a very important place with lots of visitors. Intentional or not there’s a real money theme. Most of all the view if fabulous.
Ispent a little while enjoying the view then made my way down. Careful not to step on the dried monkey poop. By time I got to the bottom my feet were pretty filthy. Going barefoot in the temples of Bagan didn’t bother me at all but something about Popa and it’s monkeys didn’t feel so clean. I happened to have some paper napkins and a small bottle of hand sanitizer. With that I cleaned my feet before putting my shoes back on which felt much better.
After exiting the temple I met up met up with the group back at the van. The driver had to find a creative path to get us out of the village before heading  back to Bagan.
Ispent 4 nights in Bagan with three days to check out the sights. On my last evening in Bagan I whizzed off on a scooter to find a nice temple to watch the sunset from. After that I would need to decided what to do next. Head up the Ayeyarwady by boat to Mandalay or skip the big city and head to the hills for some hiking. With only a week left it would be difficult to do everything. I found myself wallowing in indecision, trying to figure out how to cram it all in, with all options being good. Too many choices not enough time.

November 18, 2016

Yangon To Bagan By Train


The train ride from Yangon to Bagan was like going back in time. The railroad is leftover from the days of British rule and has seen minimal if any updating over the years. My ticket for an upper class sleeper with no air conditioning cost around $14 USD for a ride of a little over 450 miles that is supposed to take about 17 hours.

The train departs from the original Yangon station built by the British back in the day. I found my train on platform four. Just a few hard seat coaches and one sleeper. I also met a few other adventurous backpackers looking to experience the real Burma. The train is not the most popular travel option because it’s antiquated technology is not always the fastest or the most reliable. Old rails and worn out bushings make for a rough ridge as the train sways back and forth hour after hour. For not much more you can take an air conditioned tourist bus that only takes about 8 or 9 hours. Or, you can take regular bus for less.

The attendant assigned to the sleeper coach showed me to a 4 bunk berth. The door was difficult to slide open and came off of its track in the process. The beds were simple and reasonably clean with one sheet and pillow. A single oscillating fan decorated the ceiling and was in working order. The wood floor shown a lot of wear but was solid. You could tell it had been swept out but the cracks and crevasses were filled with decades of soot and dirt. The windows were offset with a choice of one metal louvered panel to allow a breeze to flow through or a heavy clear glass pane. Both windows were completely open when I boarded and would be for much of the trip.  At one end of the coach were two toilets. One Asian squat style, the other western. Both were acceptable and actually better than expected.

Shortly after boarding I was surprised to be joined by a German couple and their five year old daughter. I thought it was quite an adventurous thing to be dong with a five year old but she would prove to be the perfect little traveler. The rest of the passengers on the coach included a few backpackers like myself and one group that may have been Burmese. The hard seat cars were packed with regular local people just trying to get from one place to another. A boy slept and attendant slept at the entrance to the sleeper coach to prevent others from entering.

As the train rolls out of Yangon you can really see how poor the country is. Simple wood structures surrounded by plenty of garbage and filth packed tight in areas provide home for many. The smoke from small piles of mostly plastic trash blows through the open train windows as we pass by. I try to take a few photos but a picture can never really convey what something is like in person and the speed of the train blured the shots.

Once out of Yangon the scenery improves drastically. The poor of the countryside look far less destitute than those of the city. With less population pressure people have enough room to grow what they need and provide for themselves with natural resources. Although very basic it provides for some quality of life. The countryside is beautiful and people look healthy.
Farmers tend fields, women walk with large baskets atop their head, children walk or are taken to school in an ox cart. It may be 2016 but in many ways it could still be 1916 in a poor nation.

The train rolled into the night and eventually I lay down to sleep. From time to time the train would stop at a station and people would get on or off. Vendors would come up to the windows selling food and drinks. I slept off and on. I actually found the motion of the train rocking and banging back and forth to be ok and kind of soothing.

By sunrise we were deep into the Burmese countryside. Small hills and fields slowly filled with light and people started moving about. Tall palm trees here and there added to an exotic feel as the train rolled closer to Bagan.
About 16 hours into the trip I started to feel like the motion and all was starting to get to me but I also started feeling achy. By time we arrived in Bagan around 11 am it had taken 19 hours. Before even leaving the berth taxi drivers had hopped on to drum up some business.

I split a taxi with two other travelers as we were all headed to the village of New Bagan which is set amidst 3,000 Buddhist temples. I didn’t have a place booked but I had the taxi drop me at a hotel I heard about. At that point I really wasn’t feeling too good. I passed on the first place but the hotel across the street was good and within budget so I took a room. At that point I think I was running a low fever and was happy to have my own toilet.
Fortunately, I didn’t start feeling bad until the end of the train journey so for the most part I really enjoyed taking the train. I’ll likely consider it a highlight of visiting Burma. Luckily my bout with a travel bug would pass quickly.




November 14, 2016

Yangon, Burma (Myanmar)










The young taxi driver with rotten red stained teeth from chewing beetle nut couldn’t have been more nice and pleasant. His English was not very good and a heavy accent disguised his words. I listened close as he took on the roles of tour guide and distracted driver. A shortcut through the University was lovely. Worn out buildings left over from British rule appeared somewhat occupied, somewhat abandoned, with no one about. A short bit further past another building and around the corner four young women in colorful graduation robes posed for photos. Yes, the University is open.
A smell caught my nose. A smell I haven’t noticed in awhile. It’s a mix of car exhaust, incense, laundry soap, sewer, spices, food, and rot. A smell that that you don’t smell in the sanitized developed world. Oddly enough it’s not really offensive but very noticeable. Sometimes it changes with the breeze and sorts itself out into something pleasant. Other times it becomes confined into small pocket of absolute unbearable stench almost forcing a gag. But ultimately it’s ok and easy to get used to. Over time it sets an impression that in a odd way fosters a fondness to a memory of traveling in the third world.

It’s been awhile since I’ve traveled a developing country and on the short ride to my accommodation in the middle of Yangon I could feel a little bit of what might be mild culture shock but not really. I know what to expect traveling in poor countries but it still takes a little time to get use to again.

The taxi driver drove me into the busy downtown area. A mix of crumbling structures leftover from British rule with an modern new high rise building here and there. The old and the impoverished right next to the new and fresh with dirty streets stained with red spit splatter from men chewing beetle nut. Food stalls and vendors line sections of sidewalk and cars cram off to the of side busy narrow streets for one lane to pass thru.
It was along one of the busy side streets that my driver dropped me in front of a Guest House. The taxi fare was fixed rate and somewhere around the amount of 6 or 7 dollars. I gave him 10,000 Kyat which is about 8 dollars and told him keep the change which gave him a smile. Life is hard in the third world. This time around I’ll drop some spare change the to those who help me along the way. It’s something I kind of regret not doing in the past while traveling such places.

A narrow set of stairs up a few flights led me to a Guest House that caters mostly to western backpackers on a budget. I am greeted by a young man at the front desk with bow tie who speaks fair English with a heavy accent. I had a reservation but there seemed to be an issue with which room to put me in.
The guest house is clean and tidy but a little worn. The rooms are efficiently arranged along narrow halls with tile floors and concrete walls. The first room I was assigned was right by a small common area where the included breakfast is served. An interior room with no outside window. I thought they might have something better available so I didn’t accept the room right away.

The staff was happy to oblige as I like to check out my options before making a decision. I was shown another room with no window in probably in the quietest part of the building but it had a strong musty odor so I passed. The other option was on an upper floor with shared bathrooms and mosquitos.
I thanked the nice and accommodating young gentleman who was showing me the rooms. He replied, “As you wish Boss”. I got a kick out of that as I recalled a young man in India once telling me how people his age learned English by watching American movies. I figured the first room was the best option as each had its pros and cons. After checking in I went for a walk.

My first impression is that Burma is a little like India. Sights, sounds, etc.. It’s where India and Southeast Asia meet. Some of the people look Asian while many look Indian. Yangon is a melting pot of sorts for the region. What’s notably different, in comparison to India, is that it’s not as dirty, the crowds are not as intense and there’s not much hassle or touts which is nice. For now, I’ll just settle into the culture as I roam the streets of Yangon for a couple of days then travel by Train to Bagan.




River Kwai & The Death Railway










On Saturday morning I rallied early with an eleven-hour time change making it easy to do. Six in the morning is 5 in the evening back home. I figured if I was going to ride the death railway and see the bridge over River Kwai I’d better get going.
A taxi to Tiburon Station, a 100 Bhat ticket, and I was on way on the outdated 3rd class train with hard wood seat. The 248 mile five hour ride would take me to the terminus at Nom Tok passing over the famed bridge over River Kwai. I thought going the whole distance out and back would be kind of long for a day and debated just getting off at the bridge and taking a bus back to Bangkok.
The Burma Railway was built during WW2 under Japanese Occupation to strategically move supplies. In the end tens of thousands of men died under brutal work conditions thus the name Death Railway.
The ride to Kwai bridge takes around 2 ½ hours. A group of lady boys sat on two facing benches to my left. It was Saturday and many Thai’s were getting out of the city for the weekend. One of the lady boys looked like a girl at first. Complete with see thru top and bra. A couple of the guys looked fairly normal aside of on one wearing pants with text stitched to a back pocket saying “Easy Now”. While one lady boy powdered his face, another, who was very effeminate, kept checking himself with a small mirror about every 5 or 10 minutes. They were very nice and friendly without being too friendly if you know what I mean. I didn’t have a problem with them. Their peculiarities were mildly entertaining, however, when one started flirted with the other buy trying to stick his finger through another’s pants in region of the anus I thought that was really weird. Especially since the other guy didn’t seem to mind. I might have preferred to move at that point but the train was packed.
The ride from Bangkok to Kwai bridge isn’t all that scenic. I hadn’t really decided whether or not to go all the way to Nam Tok but that decision was made for me when I failed realize I was at the Kwai bridge as the train started leave. I was a little peeved at my absent mindedness but the really interesting section of the death railway lays between the bridge and Nam Tok.
A bunch of people had gotten off at the bridge. The lady boys got off a little further at some resort looking place. I was really happy I stayed on the train as it got quite scenic beyond the bridge. The most impressive section was along a steep slope next to a river where the rails were help up by trestles and scaffolding. Going out and back meant I got cross that section twice.
The stop at Nam Tok was brief. The train ride back towards Bangkok wasn’t crowded at all and in a couple of hours we arrived at the bridge again. I got off figuring I’d shoot a few photos and find a bus back.
The Bridge over River Kwai was mostly blown up during the war but it’s been nicely restored and is fully functioning. Trains still cross a few times a day but tourists are allowed to walk on it between trains. The trains stop before crossing to allow officials to clear the way. The east side of the bridge is more or less tourist hell with the west side being nice and quiet.
The trip back to Bangkok from that point was quite long. First I took a motorcycle taxi to the bus station in Kanchanaburi. A motorcycle taxi is just that. A guy with a motorcycle. You simply hop on back. The bus station was a little confusing but easy enough. I hopped on a minivan bus to Mo Chit which I assumed was the Bangkok Sky Train station which would be really easy. Well, Mo Chit is an area of Bangkok. Not just a Sky Train Station. I found this out when we arrived at a very busy dark bus station in a confusing area not good for walking. I was told to get a taxi to the Sky Train Station.
It was then that I met a German guy who knew the area. He said it was a 30-minute walk to the Sky Train and probably better to walk due to traffic. However, it took a fair be longer due to Saturday night crowds crawling through a busy market. The German needed to pick up a couple of things at the market and suggested I continue on alone as there was no way I could get lost. Being German I guessed his shopping would be very quick and efficient. I knew it would be best to just stick with him.
His shopping spree took about 5 minutes, as I thought it might, and we were back to picking our way through the crowds. Finally, we arrived at the Sky Train. From there it was only about 10 minutes to Victory Monument with another 10-minute walk to my accommodation. A long day but well worth it. Of course the following morning I found out that I could have taken a bus all the way from Kanchanaburi to a station right by Victory Monument. I should have checked my options more carefully. Guess I was a little off my game.
By time I got back to my accommodation I’d reached my limit for the day. I was tired and beat. I simply showered and went to sleep. The following day I’d be headed to Burma.

November 11, 2016

Bangkok - No MSG Please










With the time feeling right and being burned out from work I booked a ticket to Bangkok figuring I’d just make it easy and head to the southern beaches and islands of Thailand. Not long after choosing a flight I thought it would be a shame not to add a little adventure into the mix so I also booked a short flight from Bangkok to Yangon, Burma, which is now called Myanmar.

The Korean Air flight from Houston to Bangkok couldn’t have gone better and was about the best option to be found. Houston to Seoul with a layover of less than two hours then Seoul to Bangkok. Everything was on time and the flights were good.
Upon arrival I quickly cleared immigration, claimed my pack, got some cash from an ATM and hopped in an official taxi. I showed the driver some directions in Thai, that I had printed off the internet. As we rolled off the taxi driver informed me that Trump had won the election. We both laughed.
The dollar is strong in Thailand so Taxi with fare, tolls, and fee came out to 425 baht ($12 USD). I don’t remember there being a fifty-baht airport fee the last time I was I in Bangkok but the receipt for official taxi seemed to say there was so I didn’t make an issue of it.

This time I chose Hostel International Mid near Victory monument. It’s really more like a hotel/guest house with a dorm. The place is very nice and clean but the location is a bit noisy. It’s a sister property of a place I’ve stayed at a couple of times in the past. What I am paying comes out to less than $30 USD a night for a single room with bathroom. A bunk in the dorm is $10. The price is reasonable for Bangkok but actually a little expensive for Thailand, comparatively speaking. In general, decent budget accommodation in a major city is always more expensive.

I decided to spend four nights in Bangkok to re-acclimate and to try to shake jet lag. After such a long trip and an eleven-hour time difference the body and brain are a little out of sync. I figured it would be good to take a break to get re-oriented before heading over to Burma which will be a little more adventurous. My plan is two weeks in Burma followed by two weeks in the South of Thailand.
For my first day in Bangkok I went on a good walk around the city visiting a couple of Buddhist temples that included Golden Mountain which offers a good view along with some quirky displays and decorations along stepped paths. I especially liked seeing a golden Buddha with pink flamingos. In the evening I went out for street food which Bangkok is famous for. Pad Thai which is mixture of rice noodles, bean sprouts, egg and shrimp was what I was after. One stall looked particularly good and appeared to be quite busy.

There was a little problem with communication but I thought I ordered ok and communicated that I didn’t want the crystal looking stuff that we in America call MSG. I wasn’t sure if I was understood. The cook started cooking up several Pad Thai’s on large round flat bottomed oily pan for group who was already waiting. I assumed my order was worked in with the group.
It looked to be a husband and wife team with the husband doing the cooking while the wife assisted, took, orders, and handled the money. It was when she started dishing ingredients into the cooking that I took closer notice. For the most part everything was looking good until she stuck a small shovel into a large bowl of Phong Churot, MSG. She then proceeded to dump large amounts on each pile of Pad Thai in the later stages of cooking. I couldn’t believe anyone would put that much MSG on the amount that was being made.

There was no way I could subject myself to that sort of experiment. I figured since communication was poor to begin with I could probably just quietly wander off which is what I did. I wandered right back to my accommodation and asked the manager to right no MSG please, in Thai, on a piece of paper. A younger man working the desk is from Burma so I asked him to do the same in Burmese. He informed me msg is very popular in Burma.

MSG is widely used throughout SE Asia. The last time I traveled the region it was a bit of an issue. If I get too much it can trigger a visual migraine which isn’t fun. What I’ve done in the past is have someone write on a piece of paper, in the local language, to please not use whatever it’s called locally. Another thing I’ve done is gone to a store and bought a small packet of MSG. I’d hold it up when ordering and say the word, “No”, in the local language, which is probably a better idea in areas where literacy is not the best. I don’t think a little MSG affects me but a shovel full certainly may.
So, I passed on Pad Thai last night but today for lunch today I stopped at a place with a sign that said they had the 5th best Pad Thai in the world. I pulled out my little sheet of paper for no MSG. The cook didn’t quite it but a woman working with him understood and made it sound like they didn’t use it anyway. Instead they had a glass with a large spoon on a table for you to add it if you like when you are served.

My second day in Bangkok was spent roaming around a bit while making some plans. I decided to book my flight out of Burma from Yangon which allows for a nice loop through the countryside. Upon returning to Bangkok I’ll spend one night then hop an overnight train south. I bought my train ticket at the station which was very easy. They have a special office for foreign tourist.
I’ve planned my time a little more than I’d normally like to but felt it was probably a good idea since I’m looking to cover a fair bit of ground. Sometimes planning is more efficient but if you plan too much you might miss out on the magic that spontaneity can offer.