All last night it poured. The monsoon has finally come in earnest, and soon the Mekong and its tributaries will rise 10 - 20 feet. Throughout our journeys, we've seen the high water marks on rocks and vegetation and footpaths, but it was inconceivable to me that the water could regularly reach that high. No more, now I understand.

Still, luck remains with us. Today was our day with the elephants, and I feared that we'd have to cancel, or that it would be so wet as to make the trip miserable and pointless. But the rain slowed enough that we took a chance, and what a good chance it was. The elephant camp is high in the mountains, and as the car climbed the muddy dirt roads, past pineapple and teak plantations, we rose above the clouds so that by the time we arrived, the sun was shining.

Our day at the camp had several parts to it. First, Ellery and I learned how to ride on the elephant's neck, and how to command it with out feet and a few Lao words. Then it was off on a one hour trail ride; unsure of my balance on the lumbering but beautiful animal, I opted, for the most part, for the comfy cushioned seat, while Ellery stayed on the neck. When we reached the river, riding the elephants down the middle of it, I hopped down onto the neck for a bit, and loved every minute of it.

With the trail ride over, we took a short boat ride to some nearby waterfalls, but as the rains had just begun, they were pretty dry and not really worth the trip. We then had our usual lunch - rice and chicken curry, followed by pineapple for desert, before it was time for the best part of the day. Ellery and I each mounted our own elephant and took them back into the river for their bath. Once in the middle of the river, the elephants laid down, and with hard bristle brushes, we scrubbed their heads, ears, and back. Ellery's elephant was so delighted she trumpeted with joy, while mine used her trunk to shower me with water. I really didn't expect to have so much fun with these elephants - I expected something much cheesier, and I'm glad it wasn't.

After the bathing, I showered and swam in a beautiful little swimming pool overlooking the river, while Ellery read - something she's been doing constantly throughout the trip.

Returning to town, where it had clearly been raining most of the day but for the moment was dry, we stopped at one last temple, covered in brightly painted murals and friezes, and then walked back to our hotel. Changing into our bathing suits, it was less than 15 minutes out by the pool before the rain started again, heavier than before. So now we are ensconced in our room, listening to the rain, wondering what we will do for dinner, and whether tomorrow's trip to a larger, evidently more beautiful (and wet) waterfall will actually take place. But so far, the weather gods have been good to us, and I'm hoping our luck hasn't yet run out.

written by  shoshtrvls on July 1, 2012 from Luang Prabang, Laos
from the travel blog: Southeast Asia (2012)
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Today we were up before dawn, literally, to watch the procession of the monks. In most other places, the monks make their daily rounds collecting alms in small groups, or even alone, but here, they do it in a long procession, monastery after monastery. So, at 5:30 a.m., we were standing on the street, watching young boys, twenty-something's, and old men, all draped in yellow and gold, walking down the main road in Luang Prabang, carrying their bowls, accepting rice from the residents, as well as the women who had come to sell rice to others to give to the monks.

From there, we walked through the local market, where everything from chicken to fish to rats are sold as food, and eventually back to our hotel to catch another hour or so of sleep before breakfast and a morning of sightseeing.

The sightseeing was just that - a royal palace (most of it closed for the day due to a visit by the Japanese crown prince), a Wat, a museum of ethnology, another Wat, and so on. We saw Wat Xieng Thong, and Wat Mai, and ... Well, I stopped getting the names after that. Although the temples here are quite different from those in Myanmar, they are almost exactly like those in Thailand and, to be honest, not that grand. One had beautiful mosaics, another decorated ceilings, but all in all, nothing to knock your socks off. But Fun, who was a monk for 8 years, was a good guide, and took time to explain a lot about Buddhism and what we were seeing. But by noon, we had run out of sights (opting out of the "factory tours"), and let Fun return home to celebrate his sons seventh birthday.

Ellery and I then spent the next hour or so in a coffee house that seemed to have more Americans floating in and out than your average NYC Starbucks. And I watched as the backpackers do what they do - greeting someone that they may have met just the day before on the bus from Vientaine, or maybe three weeks ago in Bangkok, as an old friend; listening to someone else explain where to get the cheapest meal as if that person had been in Luang Prabang for months, when in fact they arrived just a day earlier; and swapping stories of where to go and how to get there. Part of me wanted to join in the conversation, until I remembered that I was 50 years old and spending more money on one night in my hotel than they will spend for food and lodging in a month. I envied them, and I didn't. I envied the feeling of community among them, believing themselves to be just a tiny cadre of wanderers who will learn all there is to know about the world in three or six short months on the road. But I also know that they will all soon enough hunker down and become lawyers and accountants and things far less romantic that backpackers, and that eventually they, like me, will come to appreciate a comfortable, non-lice infested bed and a hot shower. And be disappointed if the hotel of choice isn't just perfect.

And, while we're talking hot, it's damn hot here. Hotter than anywhere else we've been, which is why Ellery and I spent the rest of the afternoon at the hotel pool (and yes, dear backpackers, having a hotel pool is better than taking a tuk-tuk to a tiny water hole outside of town which isn't nearly as clean or as pretty as you were told, but that you, too , will recommend to other backpackers you meet). At the pool, we were joined by an American from California, who couldn't help but tell us about the Thai wife he was planning to divorce, the house near Santa Barbara he was selling, and all other manner of personal trivia. The guy was, to put it simply, dying to talk to someone, even though he had come to Laos -- his "happy place" he said -- to sort things out in solitude. The other end of the backpacker spectrum, the middle aged adult who travels to escape the concerns and responsibilities that the backpackers haven't a clue about.

A strong late afternoon rain forced us into the room for a bit, until we headed out for the evening. Another fine $3.00 meal in the small alley off of the night market (where now I was directing the newly-arrived to the best 10,000 kip buffet) and then a performance of the Royal Ballet of Laos. At least, that's how they were billed, but this was clearly not the A, or even the B, team. I've seen step classes at Bally's fitness who were more in sync. As with the puppet show, the audience was small and all foreign, and so we were all there just for a bit of cultural education. And what I learned is this: traditional Laotian dance is slow. really, really slow. So there is art to it, moving your body so slowly (think tai chi with music), but it did not leave me wanting more.

The night ended with Els and I walking back to the hotel, talking about communism, the supreme court, and Israel. And to describe how we hit on all those topics, and more, would be impossible.

written by  shoshtrvls on June 30, 2012 from Luang Prabang, Laos
from the travel blog: Southeast Asia (2012)
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The morning passed eventfully, reading and every so often looking up to admire the beauty around us. We passed not much, a small hill tribe market, kids bathing in the river, a fast boat or two (or rather, they passed us). We made one stop, at a small village, where the boatman's wife bought two huge, still alive catfish for their dinner, and we took one three passengers - a young couple and their 2 year old daughter. At first, they didn't come on, Fun telling them (I assume) that we had paid for a private trip. But after assuring him, many times, that we welcomed their company, they came aboard. We took a private boat only because it isn't tourist season, and we didn't know if there would be a regular boat going when we needed to go. The solitude has been nice, but so are the new faces.

We're now about 1-1/2 hours from Pak-O caves, and from there only another hour to our destination, Luang Prabang. Too soon. I'll miss this boat.

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So, Pak-O caves .. Um ... Lots of little Buddhas in two caves. Yeah. Glad we didn't take this as a day trip, although the walk to the upper cave was good exercise.

Luang Prabang so far seems like a nice town. We arrived, showered, put on some fresh(er) clothes, and headed for the night market, which takes over about 3 blocks of the main street each night. Tons of backpackers here - you could tell that a bus or boat just arrived, as the touts had divvied them up and were guiding them to various guest houses around town. We had dinner - fresh grilled chicken and noodles - from a stall in an alley, $2.50 fed both Els and I. Then we walked through the market; it's like a craft festival in any city in the US, but here you can get a silk scarf for $3.00, an embroidered bag for $2.00, or a dead cobra in a bottle for $1.00. We're here for 3 nights, and I expect that Ellery will still be begging me for one of those snakes until the moment our plane leaves.

written by  shoshtrvls on June 29, 2012 from Luang Prabang, Laos
from the travel blog: Southeast Asia (2012)
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Eric, the travel agent in the US, discouraged us from taking this boat trip, saying that the river isn't so interesting here and it's a long two days. That's probably true; every so often we see fishermen, villagers panning for gold, or kids playing on one of the sandy shoals, and we've passed one or two Wats, temples, overlooking the river, but there's really nothing but the spectacular views of the mountains. Still, I think it's a perfect interlude. The weather is nice, and it gives us time to relax and read, reflect and rest, after what now seems like the hustle of the last 9 days. Smelling the cool, lush odor of the jungle is intoxicating.

So, returning to this morning, not much of note happened. The usual wake up, shower, pack the bags, get in the car, head to yet another border. Here, on the Thai side of the river, there was a some hustle and bustle, as we had our pictures taken for the necessary Lao visas and were stamped out of Thailand. Then a very quick water taxi ride to the other side, to Laos, where government officials leisurely, almost defiantly, took their time in reviewing our papers and issuing our visas. A tuk tuk then took us to the boat jetty, and this is where we've been ever since.

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Our first stop was a small village. It wasn't a long walk from the river to the village, but it was hidden behind the vegetation, and I realized that we've probably passed dozens of such villages without knowing it. Here, Fun explained, the people are "middle landers.". The government has moved them closer to the river, from the hills, apparently so that they can arrange schooling for the children and bring them electricity and other modern conveniences. I'm not sure I buy that excuse, but certainly the people don't appear to be suffering much from the move. The village was full of children of all kinds - human, chicks, piglets running everywhere, and laughing. There was a lot of laughter, as most of the adults were off working in the fields. The few we saw were either carrying children, sling-style, or older. The older women had tattoos, very intricate patterns, on their arms. Their language is kumao, similar to khemer. Houses are bamboo, built just a few feet high. The main house is one large open room with mats for sleeping, and the kitchen is separate. This village received electricity only last year, and just like that, every house now has a satellite dish and a tv.

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The rest of the day was more of the same - slow, relaxing ride up the river. We arrived at the hotel overlooking the river around 4, and then walked down the main street of Pakbeng, a one-street town catering only to the backpackers who come this way. Guest houses and cafes offering cheap food and free wi-Fi, and stalls selling cheap Chinese toothpaste and clothing clearly left behind by backpackers who passed through. But as the commercial zone peters out, you see the other side of this town; trash and waste piled along the street, tiny children picking through it, broken plastic sandals and rags being sold. A very depressing reminder of what life is really like in a developing country.

written by  shoshtrvls on June 28, 2012 from Muang Pakbeng, Laos
from the travel blog: Southeast Asia (2012)
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Anyway, back to Nyuang Shwe - next week there will be 4000 monks in town to take their exams, and the entire town is preparing for it. Everything is being cleaned and repaired, the dining halls are being prepared, and many traveling merchants and people have come from around the region to care for the monks while they are here. I'm sure it must be quite a sight, to see them all here at once.

Although not a market day, the market area in Nyuang Shwe is quite large, and there were still many stalls open and selling. Not as colorful as others we've seen, but more practical in some ways. There were a few stalls manned by women from the hills, Karen I believe, but most were hard goods stalls owned by locals. After walking around for a while, we headed back to Heho to catch our plane for Tachileik, in the golden triangle. Our guide and others seem quite surprised we would go this way. "No tourists go to the Golden Triangle.". Well, we shall see. Tourists - backpackers and groups - seem to be everywhere.

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Pretty close. We were the only foreigners on the plane, and there were only a few backpackers to be seen in Tachileik, but then again, we only drove through quickly to get to the Thai border. Still, in many ways, Tachileik is a world away from the rest of Myanmar. It is a mountainous region and the fact that it is a border town gives it a very different feeling. People are dressed in western clothes, the cars are newer, the houses built of cinder block and concrete rather than thatch. And here the Thai baht is accepted more than the Myanmar kyat (about $15 dollars worth I'm now stuck with).

The border crossing was typical. A few stern looks, a few questions, our "special papers" (the ones that let us leave the country from somewhere other than where we arrived) scrutinized, and then a short walk across the river, where entry into Thailand was a similar process. After changing some money, we hit the road for the Golden Triangle, about 40 minutes away. I suspect that this town, which sits on the borders of Myanmar, Thailand, and Laos, has a real name but it isn't used. There are a few nice resorts here, they blend here, like in Bagan. Ours is a bit different; an older building (or so it seems) right on the Mekong River, turned into a stylish boutique, not unlike the old motels in Hollywood now chic hotels. We have a terrific view of both the huge (and I mean huge) Buddha that looks over the Golden Triangle, and of a large casino on the Laos side of the river.

Walking along the road back from our restaurant before the sidewalks roll up at 9pm, two pick up trucks with speakers in the back and flashy wheels drive by - this appears to be what passes for "cruising" here. And the song they're playing? "I've had the time of my life".

written by  shoshtrvls on June 27, 2012 from Chiang Saen, Thailand
from the travel blog: Southeast Asia (2012)
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After the market we headed for In Dein, a village on the furthest end of the lake. This was really a fascinating site to walk through, with hundreds of old brick stupas and temples in various states of decay and reconstruction. Each temole almost felt like its own discovery, as you looked inside to see how much of the Buddha was left, and how much had crumbled or been overtaken by trees. As in Heho, many of the temples had old paintings on the walls inside. Interestingly, all of these figured, both the Buddhas and the drawings are all smiling, a trait of Shan buddhist images. Inle must have always been a happy place. At the top of the village was a large temple of little note, but clearly renovated.

Then it was back down to one of the villages, where we made a quick stop at the home of a family from a different hill tribe, whose name escapes me at the moment. But it is a tribe that stretches their necks with heavy metal coils, making the women into human giraffes. It was quite uncomfortable being there, both because of the strangeness of the neck brace, and because it was like looking at people in a zoo. But, they have chosen to come to Inle to do their weaving and show the visitors a bit of their lives, and evidently it is much preferable to the mountains from which many have been forced out and now live as refuges.

Then it was time for lunch at a restaurant overlooking the lake's main pagoda, Phaung Daw Oo, best known for the fact that it's five small Buddhas have been so covered in gold leif by worshippers that they are now merely blobs of gold. Evidently, these blobs of gold are taken out on a huge barge, not unlike the one we saw in Yangon, once a year for a major festival that involves boat races and boat parades.

Our final stop before returning to the hotel was to Nga Hpe Chaung Monastery. Known for some reason for its cats that jump through hoops, Ellery loved it because of the newborn kittens who took to her; I liked it because the Buddhas inside, as well as the decoration, was some of the most beautiful we've seen, very intricate and delicate, and adorned with glass and jewels.

After a brief break, Ellery and I took a brief walk to the village that sits about a mile inland from the hotel. It was a nice walk (did I mention that it's at least 29 degrees cooler here than anywhere else we've been) and we were able to stop in at what appeared to be one family's living complex. There was a fairly large area where corn was being grown and several buildings, each of which seemed to have its own purpose (kitchen, horse stable, trainers, etc.). The people were very friendly and invited us for tea. And they were fascinated by Ellery's braces; I think they didn't know if they were decorative or not, and as they spoke no English it took quite some time to explain what they were for.

So, tomorrow we leave Myanmar and head to Thailand. It's been a great trip so far, and a country I'm glad we came to see.

written by  shoshtrvls on June 26, 2012 from Inle Lake, Myanmar (Burma)
from the travel blog: Southeast Asia (2012)
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At the airport in Mandalay, I feel as though I've stepped back 25 years to my backpacker days. Because it is the low season and because travel to Myanmar is still rare, we have begun to see the same few solo travelers in several places. Here in the airport are a couple from Italy and a couple from the US, both of whom we had seen at the puppetshow. As is an older woman, quite sophisticated, who i take to be someone teaching abroad and traveling for her vacation, who we saw in Bagan. And they are all (ok, not the teacher) carrying their well-worn Lonely Planet guidebooks, exchanging information, discussing hostels and places to see and the like. In some ways, I miss being one of those people, having to learn so much more about a country just in order to figure out what local bus to take and where to buy train tickets. But, on the other hand, the luxury of having everything arranged, having a local guide and car at every destination, knowing there's a hot shower at the end of the day, makes things so much easier and more comfortable. I could never do a pre-packaged group tour and as indulgent as a private tour seems, it is really the best of both worlds.

Arriving in Heho, we were met by our guide Sandar, a young woman with very good English (the one thing that made traveling with Joe a problem). On the way to Inle lake we made two stops. The first was to a family that made paper and bamboo umbrellas. Although I am quite jaded of such stops (and there were more to come), the delicacy and skill of this family was quite impressive, and thus we left with our own bamboo umbrella.

Next stop was, yes, a temple and monastery, but an interesting one. The temple was built in the 18th (?) century and displayed both English and Burmese influence. There were hundreds of niches with Buddhas in them, and above and below we're beautiful glass mosaics of everything from British soldiers to tigers to flowers. Next door was the monastery, Shwe Yan Pyay, which consisted of an old teak structure like the several we have seen before and a few newer buildings. The monastery housed about forty young monks and a few older teachers, all of whom were very friendly.

Finally we reached Inle and got on our motor boat and headed out to the lake. Our hotel was about 30 minutes away, a resort consisting of dozens of huts on stilts, like all of the villages around the lake. After a brief rest we headed to the far side of the lake, about 40 minutes away, for lunch, a boat tour of some of the villages, and tours of, sigh, craft factories - silk, silver, and cheroot (cigars). Agriculture is the main occupation, with a lot of rice and tomatoes ioak articulate. We opted out of more monasteries and pagodas, however, and eventually returned to our hotel for dinner (served to a bad cover version of Yellow River by Paper Lace) and sleep.

A few notes - everything here occurs, or seems to occur, on the water, and boats, some motorized and some not, are the mode of transportation for everything - crops, people, hard goods, and schoolchildren - the last being transported by a very long boat, the water equivalent of a school boat. As one might expect of a lake that rises several meters in the rainy season, every building is on stilts, and since the lake is low now, activity occurs both in the houses on top and on platforms lower down. Finally, this place has already figured out the tourist business quite well, with plenty of resorts and restaurants lining the lake. So being here in low season is a bit like being down the shore in November - the locals are curious about you not because you are tourists but because you've come at the wrong time, and most of the hotels and restaurants and closed for the season and being refurbished for next year.

written by  shoshtrvls on June 25, 2012 from Inle Lake, Myanmar (Burma)
from the travel blog: Southeast Asia (2012)
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We left the hotel earlier than normal today to attend the 8:30 a.m. wedding of his friend, the son of the owner of the puppet show. (Evidently, Jo worked at the puppet theater before becoming a guide). The wedding ceremony was held at a large restaurant. Upon arrival, we were handed flowers and, for those bringing gifts, they were also given a bamboo fan with the equivalent of a NY Times wedding notice printed on it, including degrees received and employment held by the bride and groom. At the front of the room were large white chairs and on a curtain hanging behind them the names of the bride and groom. A band played quietly off to the side of the stage Seating was open, and upon sitting at a table, a plate of chinese dim sum and bowl of ice cream were provided. (Remember, it is 8 in the morning).

We sat with two of the puppeteers from the evening before, and Jo was quite animated as he chatted with them. People were dressed in everything from beautiful silk longhi style dresses to everyday wear. As weddings are held on good luck days, although today is Sunday, apparently they are held any day of the week, so people may come for the ceremony and then go straight to work. Apparently, this part of the wedding, the morning reception, lasts about 5 hours during which time friends and family come and go at their leisure. We were warmly greater by several family members, and made to feel very comfortable despite the fact that we obviously did not belong.

At 8:30, the festivities began. While the singer and the band played a traditional wedding song, the bridesmaids walked down the aisle to the front of the room, the first one dropping flowers from a silver bowl, very much like a wedding in the US. Then the bride and groom came in together, wearing traditional clothing in white, beautifully decorated. They were followed by the parents and other relatives. The master of ceremonies then began reading the bride's and groom's many accomplishments. The ceremony itself appeared to have three main parts. First, the bride and groom placed flower garlands on one another. Then the brides parents placed the wedding rings on the fingers of the bride and groom, rather than having them couple exchange rings. The reason for this is to bestow on the new couple the same longevity of their marriage. (The groom's parents did not participate because they are, I'm divorced. No longevity there). Then there was a hand washing or shaking ceremony, although this I couldn't quite see. Finally, the Master of Ceremonies announced that the two were married. No kissing followed, however, just the obligatory many family photographers. All told, it was about 1/2 hour and not so different from our weddings. Later tonight, there will also be a large reception, although this is not always done, and has only recently been adopted from the west.

From the wedding g we headed out of town to see the three historical capitals, Sagaing, Ava, and Amarapira. We drove along the river, and one of the most striking things was how much teak is being harvested. It was piled up all along the river and on large barges, headed for export. Deforestation must certainly be a big problem here.

Before reaching Sagaing, we stopped to visit in a small village known for its woodworking. And this time, it was very interesting, as the people were truly engaged in their work, and not part of a factory for tourists. At the first house, on a table sat a wedding fan like the one from the wedding we had been to just a half hour earlier. It also said June 24, and then we began to notice that many of the women were wearing nicer silk longhi, not the normal village wear. There was music in the distance and as we wandered through, we eventually came upon the wedding party. What a difference! The event was in a brightly painted canopied area, and the music was blasting from loudspeakers. It was so colorful and festive; nearly the opposite of the city wedding.

We eventually made it to Sagaing, which seemed to have as many whitewashed temples spilling along the hillside as there were brick ones in the valley in Bagan. It is home to numerous monasteries and meditation centers, and we traveled first to the temple at the very top of the mountain to take in the view. Then it was another pagoda and a nunnery and a pottery factory. (These "factories" as they are called, are really just shops, with 10 or so people using traditional methods of craftwork). At which point I'm thinking I don't need to see any more temples, monasteries, or craft factories on this trip. There are only so many Buddhas one can take.

After Sagaing, we took a short ferry ride to Ava. A very bumpy one hour horse cart ride took us around this little river island where we saw ... yes, an old monastery and an old temple. The monastery, however, was all black teak, with children studying under the not-very-watchful eye of a monk. That was different and worth seeing. Lunch was also on Ava, where we were joined by some chameleons, a snake, and about 10 Spaniards on tour, before taking the ferry back and heading to our last destination of the day, Amarapura.

The only thing worth seeing in Amarapura is the U Bein Bridge - a 1.2 km teak footbridge that connects Amarapura with a neighboring village. This appears to be quite the Burmese tourist attraction, with many people strolling along the bridge and taking pictures.

The final stop was, of course, a silk textile shop, where the workers truly labored to make gorgeous fabrics. When I first traveled to this part of the world, in 1987, I was amazed at the craftsmanship of this work. But 25 years later, I am saddened by it; it is hours of hard hunched over labor, mostly by young girls, using ancient tools, yes, what they make is beautiful and it provides them with a living, but a machine can do the same, and not grow old hunched over a loom for 8 hours a day, every day, for one's entire life.

Then it was back to Mandalay. But first ... Yes, the funeral. The "hearse" was a brightly decorated truck; I thought for sure it was some festival. Nearby was a long line of marchers walking down a road. Only then did Jo realize that it was a funeral. Two more weddings and we'll have a movie.

Back in Mandalay, we passed one last interesting site - the motorbike registration line. Sounds ridiculous, but evidently motorbikes - which are everywhere - did not need to be registered before this month. But now they do, and there were hundreds of bikes and owners lined up waiting to register their bikes on Monday morning. Really, it was like being in Sitges, but with scooters rather than Harleys, longyis rather than leather jackets.

Dinner tonight was at a small restaurant near the hotel - chicken noodles for $2.00/pp. Can't beat that.

written by  shoshtrvls on June 24, 2012 from Sagaing, Myanmar (Burma)
from the travel blog: Southeast Asia (2012)
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Jo picked us up around 8:30 for the one-hour boat trip to Mingun. Although not far from the city center, life along the river is immediately rural. Thatched huts high on stilts to protect them when the river swells, oxen plowing small fields on small islands, workers collecting sand from the banks to be used to construction in the city.

Mingun itself was a bit of a disappointment. Touted as a wonderful, artistic and picturesque place, I found it somewhat uninteresting. The climb to the top of the crumbling brick Mingun Pagoda provided a nice view, but nothing else. The Mingun Bell was a big bell, and the white-washed Hisnbyume Pagoda offered nothing new. And the artisans were less than inspiring.

Returning back to Mandalay, The ferry area was now one bistling with activity, wooden boats tied four and five abreast, people loading and unloading goods from up and down the river, women doing laundry. Then it was lunch at a Burmese restaurant, Amidah, which Jo says is one of the best in the city. It was certainly a crowded, happening place.

Then it was back to sightseeing. The wooden Golden Palace Monastery was the most interesting as it was all carved teak wood. The weather had worn away the gold leif on the exterior, but it was still present on the inside. We also visited Kayuktawgyi Pagoda with its huge, luminous marble buddha,and yet another temple, the Maha Myat Muni Pagoda, with a gold Buddha, this one quite crowded. Interspersed with these visits were the obligatory factories - here gold leif (which was actually interesting) and woodworking (which was not).

After a few hours of rest at the hotel, Ellery and I again ventured out, this time walking down 26th street, with it's packed beer gardens and restaurants. We took Jo's advice and had dinner at Cafe JJ. I mention this only because Cafe JJ was clearly where the cool kids ate. Part restaurant, part western coffee house offering expresso and cappuccino, and part ice cream shop, there were no longyis here, but instead kids running everywhere, dudes in jeans talkng on cell phones, and girls with dyed hair and skirts that would put a hooker to shame.

Our evening ended with a traditional Burmese puppet show. It probably wasn't the best, but it was good fun, with several different scenes that made no sense to us, but definitely displayed the difficulty of manipulating the puppets. There was also traditional music and dance mingled in, and at the end the ancient Puppetmaster came out to greet all 9 of us, all visitors, who had come to see the show. Made me remember my youth at the Bob Baker Marionettes.

written by  shoshtrvls on June 23, 2012 from Mandalay, Myanmar (Burma)
from the travel blog: Southeast Asia (2012)
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We left the hotel around 8:30 and hit the road to Mandalay. The countryside was nice, but nothing to write home about (notwithstanding the fact that this is exactly what i am doing). But there were points of interest. The first was visiting a market in one of the villages. Much like those in the larger towns, it was a warren of small stalls selling all kinds of goods. What made it worth the stop, though, was that it was so rural. Clearly people had come from neighboring villages to stock up and clearly we, as Westerners, were oddities.

After the market, we hopped on a very new, large highway. Apparently, this road has taken about 10 hours off the drive from Yangon to Mandalay. Po was very proud of this highway.

The other diversion was to the snake temple, about an hour outside of Mandalay. Before we had arrived, I couldn't tell if Po, in describing the temple, meant that there were plaster snakes surrounding the Buddha statues or real ones. The answer was both. Three large boas curled around one of the buddha statues, while the remainder of the temple consisted of Buddhas sitting in front of plaster snakes. Other than the snakes, though, the temple held little of interest. So, we had a quick $2 lunch at a traditional food stall before heading to our destination.

Arriving at our hotel in Mandalay, I was at first not impressed. But there's a reason it was rated No. 1 on tripadvisor - it's probably as welcoming and charming as anywhere. Anyway,after dropping our bags off and resting a bit, we took to the streets, wandering along the palace walls, and through small dirt road and neighborhoods. One surreal experience was walking down a dirt road lined with small stalls and businesses, being followed by a pushcart selling CDs, blasting music. It was as though our walk had its own soundtrack. We were greeted with "hello" by everyone, including the most adorable 6 year old sitting on her father's motorbike coming home from school, who asked us in flawless English, "May I introduce myself? I am Kayo.". We eventually found ourselves at Kuthodaw Pagoda, a beautiful temple of 700 white stupas surrounding one large gold one. In each white stupa is a marble slab with Buddhist teachings, which is why they call it the world's largest book.

Returning to our hotel, we enjoyed cocktail hour at the pool, getting to know our fellow guests from around the world before a brief dinner and bed.

written by  shoshtrvls on June 22, 2012 from Mandalay, Myanmar (Burma)
from the travel blog: Southeast Asia (2012)
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