Bagan, Myanmar.
OK, enough of war and history and all that. …back to morning in Myanmar. Here is one that, in my opinion, epitomizes the saying in photography “it’s not the equipment, it’s the photographer”. A little bit of explanation behind the saying: you can have the best, newest, most expensive, most highly praised camera gear and equipment, but if you don’t know how to use it, it’s worthless. I really don’t know how to use it but I have always said, in a twisting of thinking here: Why spend thousands, maybe tens of thousands, of dollars buying photo gear on that “once in a lifetime” trip when you could just learn how to use a camera, use what you have and spend that money making that “once in a lifetime” trip into something like a “once a year” trip or “once in a while” trip. Ninety percent of the battle, when referring to travel type photography, is actually giving yourself the opportunity to be able to get a good photo. …not that this is so spectacular, but it was perfectly timed and I was perfectly placed, which is not going to happen sitting in your house looking at all that nice equipment that you bought for that trip two years ago …that you’re still paying off.
…and let’s face it. If you’re anywhere near Bagan, you’re at the right place, no matter what time. Another view about fourty-five minutes earlier on the same morning can be seen here.
PS: Bama: 6:31 AM 🙂 …just get there early.
around to see our taxi doing its best impression of a chubby kid sliding down a slip and slide put on the side of a hill, diagonally. The taxi driver staring at us with full smile, as he guns it without a care in the world of what may be in front of him, or who or what is being covered in mud behind, because he is staring at us with that huge smile the entire time. Clip-clop-clip-clop, the “most out of shape backpacker in the world” (see 
Bagan is huge. You, or I, could walk it, ride it, climb it, as well as photograph it for weeks and not see all of it. There are a few paved roads, but not many, and cars aren’t allowed off them, giving most of the roads over to horse-carts, bicycles and pedestrians. Some of the temple roofs are accessible, some have fifty foot buddha statues in them, old, new, white-washed or gold-leafed. Little food stands and drink carts ply the trails and are placed around the temples. Kids are found throughout, selling postcards, harassing the non-wary – although not nearly as bad as most places. A number of towns are within riding distance and everything is relaxed. I think we went two days without seeing another tourist, except at the hotel.
Visa:
On that note (no pun intended), my advice would be to exchange money on the black market, you’ll get a much higher rate than government rates. Illegal, yes, but even the businesses with the government rates will tell you to go down the street and get a better rate. Ha!!! As I said, great people. An alternative to black market exchangers is to book tours, hotels, flights, trains, boats or whatever else you may need through certain businesses in the country that have access to, or travel out of the country. These agents will take most bills because they know that they are perfectly fine in other countries and they are able to “launder” them in Thailand, Vietnam, China, India, etc. The trade off is that you have to use the money right there, booking through them. We found one guy who was particularly helpful in this, with offices in Yangon, Mandalay and Bagan. We booked airline tickets, ferry tickets and hotels through him and were nothing but pleasantly surprised with the service and honesty. I don’t want to name the company here, but send me a message if you want particulars.
Myanmar, Burma, Yangon, Rangoon, Bagan, Pagan, … One of the interesting nuances seen within the borders of this lesser traveled SE Asian country is the changes of names that have occurred in recent history. The country recognized now as Myanmar, often still called Burma by the various locals. Yangon, the capital, still abbreviated as RGN, for Rangoon, by a lot of airlines in the world. Bagan, Pagan, almost interchangeable in name. Whether old or new, it doesn’t really seem to matter as versions are used and intertwined in conversations around the world, as well as in the country itself. Seems to depend on each individuals political affiliation, as well as world views and opinion of the government there.
As an overview: I flew into Yangon. From the lively markets in the backstreets, surrounded by crumbling and moss-covered colonial architecture, to the massive, glowing Shwedagon Pagoda. A city almost lost in time and slowly fading as time goes by. Sitting on the banks of the mighty Irrawaddy River, the city itself has the feeling of one just watching, and waiting. Never in a hurry, but knowing full well that one day that will change. Just waiting for the tides to change and sweep up everyone and everything in it’s path. A sleeping dragon that can be woken at any moment. From Yangon up too Mandalay, a city almost synonymous with the word exotic when talking about travel destinations. A city full of culture and history with a name that stirs the imagination. Mingun, Sagaing, Inwa (Ava), and Amarapura. Ancient cities from empires past that surround Mandalay. Each one with a different reason to visit, whether it be the longest Teak bridge in the world, hills filled with shrines, pagodas, spires and shrines of any shape and form imaginable. Each one capital of a different time, empire and people. Ninety miles down the river, or eighteen hours by a very interesting ferry, the ancient fields of Bagan. A site to rival the greatest wonders of the world.
Wandering the World 