Old Town

This morning was moving day to a different hostel. This one promises to be far better than yesterday's as it was rated number one in 2009. It's nice to already know a bit about the city and the transit system. I called the toll free number for the hostel and got the low down on how to get there. All I had to do was take the E1 tram to the Comte de Falicon stop and the hostel shuttle would pick me up. Everything went as planned. I checked in, but the rooms hadn't been cleaned yet since it was before the 10am checkout. I put all my things in the storage room and enjoyed the free breakfast with 12 kinds of cereal--or muselix as they call it. Nothing like a bowl of granola and milk. I haven't had milk since the US!

So I wouldn't lose a day of discovery time, I went down to Old Town in the SE corner of Nice and sampled the flower and food market. What a wonderful array of sights, sounds, smells and colors. Bunches of fresh flowers and baskets of peppers filled tables. You could purchase flavored olives or bulk spices. It's ridiculous how great these markets are. I'm incredibly jealous of the fresh and local food people in Europe have. The rest of Old Town is filled with small shops, restaurants and touristy goods. The charm of the old buildings and sea views is quite lovely though. I made my way to the far E side and started to climb Chateau Hill to the large park on top. An old fort used to reside there. On my way up a huge cannon blast went off. Perhaps they do renactments?? After that sirens sounded ear piercingly at varying times for quite a while. The hill is terraced into different levels as the path winds up to the top. I happened across a huge waterfall first and then the lookout over top of it. There are no remains of the fort, but the quiet and the green space was excellent.

For the afternoon I decided to take a side trip to St. Paul de Vence. Just an hour bus ride to the NW of Nice is a tiny medieval walled village. Filled with the typical small shops and quiet side streets, I wandered around enjoying the sweeping views of the surrounding countryside. I was tempted to buy some deliciously scented soaps, but have been trying not to accrue more weighty souvenirs. I did find some lovely handmade paper cards with real flowers pressed into them. It was nice to be in a quiet town away from cars darting by you and motorcycles cutting in front of you on the sidewalk.

I'm excited that the hostel offers a cheap but filling and nutritious dinner each night. It's far enough from the restaurants in town that you have to make an effort to go out and that can get expensive quick. Tonight's meal was a fish fillet in cream sauce with shrimp and scallops with tagliatelli pasta and a side salad. Nothing like a good meal after a long day of sightseeing. I also met two ladies tonight who are friendly--Louise from Melbourne and Michelle from New Zealand (working in the UK). We had some lively conversation tonight and hopefully more to come in the time I'm here.

The Day of The Lake

We spent the entire day on Inle Lake in long, wooden boats just wide enough to be fitted with large, white, wooden deck chairs in a row of 5 provided by our simple, but very comfortable hotel. Our boats rocketed across the lake lifting the bow out of the water about a foot or so. Passing by leg rowers (traditional for the area) collecting lakeweed to be bundled, dried, fertilized, floated and staked into the lake with bamboo poles. Inle lake is surrounded by mountains making land a premium. Most people live on the water in stilted houses where they create floating gardens to farm tomatoes and other vegetables to sell at local markets. The area reminded me of Venice. Literally towns were built with waterway streets.

Partway through our tour of the villages we wandered through a local market where I picked up some jade necklaces. After walking up a very long incline to yet another pagoda, we took a side trail back to view a “waterfall” which turned out to be a spillway for a local dam. Most enjoyable was the bamboo forest with plants I’m guessing were 40 feet tall.

For Whom The Bell Tolls

Today began with a drive through downtown Mandalay past the popular Zay Cho market and a huge downtown clock tower on our way to the bank of the Ayarwady River. This might be some of the worst living conditions we have seen so far. Small shacks and huts closely built along the river house families working in fishing or boat tours. Literally on the bank, the ground was rutted and muddy. Locals bathed and washed clothes in the brown, opaque river. Some live on their boats which are packed in about 5 two story boats deep along the shore. We walked out across 3-4 to see the river and the bank. Small boats with double bed sized sails patchworked together float by. After a half hour or so we boarded the bus where Stefan suggested we consider taking a boat ride this afternoon to see King Mingdon’s (who founded former Burman capital Mandalay) unfinished temple and the 90 ton bell replica replacing the one built centuries ago by the king which fell into the Ayarwady River never to be recovered. No one objected and our group leader wandered off to make arrangements.


The church was pretty like most are. We sat for a bit while a local member explained the new sidewalk they were constructing outside and some of the programs they offer. As churches start to blend together in my mind, I think this one touted a baptismal font made of marble from the Queen of England.

Our final stop of the morning was a Methodist bible school. We were scheduled to lead chapel for them at 10am. Thanks to our intrepid group leader, we arrived 15 minutes late. Naturally they went on without us. We joined in worship to find at the end they suggested we have a question and answer session with them. Three seminary professors teaching in Myanmar had joined us for our northern study tour and our new friends at the Methodist school decided this would be a lovely time to put them in the hot seat. Amusingly the students had an assignment to write on various theological questions and this was an excellent way for them to research :) For the next 2 hours we participated in a lively session of theology. Jackie and I agreed that this was a most interesting and engaging part of the trip for us. I had food for thought when I arrived back at the hotel to ponder.

Enjoying the breeze and bananas on the boat ride was delightful. It was nice to sit and relax in the cool air. Upon arriving up river, we were greeted by a swarm of children who proceeded to question us and act as our “tour guides” telling us all about the area, where they lived and their willingness to walk us all the way to the top of the unfinished temple. Like all other holy temples in Myanmar we removed our shoes before entering. This time, however, we were basically walking up roughly 150 stairs with weeds encroaching from the edges and pieces of brush and crumbled rock on the path. I tried to step gingerly to protect my feet while balancing my bag and listening to the 2 kids accompanying me. I successfully reached the top to a lovely, far reaching view of the river, the 2 gargantuan half crumbled elephant/lion statues guarding the temple and the local town. I video taped my two guides and had them translate a grouping of stones arranged to spell out “I love so and so.” Then tragedy struck. While heading to the far side of the temple, gouged and cracked with deep ravines, I acquired a splinter in the bottom of my foot. Brilliant. We walk most places and who knows what kind of toxins were on the bit of wood. One of the two kids ventured off to procure a toothpick from a friend which I managed to use to get about half of it out—enough to allow me to walk down without pushing it in further. Surprisingly none of my group noticed my trouble. Shortly after my two guides indicated they were going to stay up top and requested I consider sponsoring their school with a donation. Pleased with their accompaniment and care I offered them some kyats. Stefan informed us earlier part of their congenial ploy was to guide tourists to the top, ask for money since they weren’t going to return for a while and often to follow you down regardless of whether they received money.

Before returning to the boat, we ventured to the large 90 ton bell. Each of us rang it using a 2 foot long and 4” wide chunk of wood with a carved out handle in the middle by ramming it into the bell. Great fun! How often do you get to do that?? I think Amy kindly captured a picture of me.

Later in the evening at the hotel I expertly used my tweezers and a can of Sprite to chill my foot and removed the remnants of the overall ¼” long splinter.

Shopaholics Anonymous

The afternoon adventure for today was a trip to a huge market in downtown Yangon. Similar in style to markets in Europe or Mexico, the building covered about an entire city block crammed full of tiny shop stations selling jewelry (Burma is famous for high quality sapphires and rubies), fabrics/clothing, carved wood statues and the usual solicitations of artwork and postcards. I was not overly interested in the jewelry--not my thing and also far more expensive than I had money for--and we were told the artwork was not that great. I headed for the fabric section hoping to find a scarf or shirt. Upon browsing through the many stands I found a lovely dark red scarf with little silver spots on it, but decided to come back later after having seen what else was available. This was clearly a mistake as I never saw that shop again. I did however come across a handmade orange silk shirt for ~$3.80 that looks great. It almost has a Chinese appearance with buttons down the left side and a decorative neckline like a V with wings. Since I am roughly the size of most Burmese people, the shirt fits like a glove. I may have to return to the market at some point to purchase more in a variety of colors. Likely I will not find that same shop again, but there will be about 50 more to choose from.

The one downfall of the market tour was that we had all agreed to meet at the main door around 3:10pm. There are two main doors to the market. No one was at either one around the scheduled time and the market looks so repetitive it was hard to tell from which door we had entered. After about 10 minutes of searching and checking and repeated requests by people to purchase charcoal pictures or change money, I figured out which door we had come in from and headed back to the vans hoping the group had not left yet. I spotted the vans, much to my relief, halfway down the block in the parking lot, but no people. Just as I paused to imagine where everyone could be I heard my name. A young boy in front of me was pointing to the left. Turning I noticed the entire group having afternoon drinks. At least I found everyone.

A group of us decided to stay downtown to walk around for a while. We wandered past the Shwe Dagon Pagoda (the largest one in Yangon which can easily be seen from cities away and from an airplane), some of the governmental buildings with a decidedly colonial appeal to them, numerous small shops and street vendors and finally over to Chinatown. We were only there briefly. Most shops are owned by Chinese people and local people work in them. When it came time to eat, half the group had been having stomach problems, part of us opted to take a taxi from there to the cafe we had afternoon coffee/juice at after the market tour and I joined them. The cafe served a variety of foods from different countries (France, Italy, America, China, etc.) and was a nice change of pace from the local cuisine of rice, cooked vegetables, meat in sauce with bits of bone and trays of pickled relishes and fresh greens. Most greens are washed in local water so those are off limits. Meat is often cooked on the bone which can be found whole or in shards throughout your food depending on how the meat was cut up.

All in all the day was okay--tiring as usual. And now for a cultural note.

As a further note on the climate, the humidity is about 70% and the average temperature has been in the mid to upper 80sF. No idea what it is when the sun is out and baking us as my portable weather station is in the hotel room. Glad I brought that along! Burmese culture is primarily a moderately dressed one. Both men and women wear sleeved shirts (either short or long) and skirts of varying bold patterns that tie at the waist allowing a stride's worth of movement for the legs. Footwear is slip on thong sandals. When you arrive at a temple or pagoda shoes are removed. So far the skirts I brought have been okay. One has a hole in it (not sure if it was before or during the trip) and they are still quite warm--though I imagine a bit cooler for me than pants would be. The one shortcoming is that your legs rub together when sweaty which causes heat rash and pain.