Me Oh My-anmar: Chiang Mai - Yangon

The time had come, to once again brave the sun,

On our way to the border: Mae Sot,

Four days from Chiang Mai, the daily k’s quite high,

And the temperature certainly rather hot.

Then it came to the crossing, no coin needed tossing,

For the border guards waved us straight through.

Fred’s relief not disguised, he was no doubt surprised,

It was as easy as any other, who knew?

The roads turned to shit, average speed took a hit,

And our patience began to grow thin.

Though the people were lovely, what rhymes with lovely?

Boy we were happy we’d been let in.

Long days on the bike, it was time for a hike,

To the sacred Golden Rock Pagoda.

The driver raced up the hill, on a mission to kill,

Or have our remains mushed like Pavlova

Like sardines we were packed, knees rammed up the back,

Of the juicy buttocks of the man in front.

Swung round every corner, the knees becoming slightly warmer,

Each hairpin giving him a jolly good shunt.

Our view was obscured, though our attention allured,

To the fact that there were very few tourists.

Most were domestic, making it more majestic

A country seen in its purest

Next stop Yangon, with the time moving on,

Holy shit it was nearly December!

Needing the Indian visa, from the Embassy geezer

The process was one to remember

The wrong amount of money, it was by no means funny,

Our poor wee hearts, they sank.

Perfect notes were needed, their demands duly heeded,

With Fred running to the nearest bank.

To make a long story short, with our energy warped,

They would process the visas, hoorray!

Though the wait would be long, staying here in Yangon

For six days ’til the following Tuesday!

Back to the room, an illness did loom

For Fred and Your Humble Narrator,

We took the toilet in turns, while our tummies did churn

Fred hospitalised a wee while later.

Needles were injected, which his bottom accepted

And the pain did slowly subside.

No morphine for Arty, with his buttock rather sharty,

Though the pain was easier to hide.

It came to the morning, with the boys all yawning,

As the bathroom was the place to be.

Four visits through the night, stomach still rather tight,

Another day in bed for Sean, Fred and me.

We have since come right, and emerged to daylight,

To see the sights that there are to be seen.

We’re as healthy as ever, just ask ol’ mate Trevor

Though we may be looking rather lean.

No need to worry, if you do, have a durry*,

As now we turn to the final leg.

The ride to our flight, festive season delight,

I think it’s about time for a keg… each

*Durries are detrimental to your health and are not endorsed by, or consumed on The Big Bike Trip*

Leaving Thailand, we'd have to say goodbye to the old faithful 7 Elevens

Pagoda on the hill

Kyaikto, where we'd get the first of two vehicles to the summit of the Golden Rock

Football amongst the pagodas at sunset

Football with the locals

The Golden Rock, sitting precariously upon the edge of a rather large drop

Local men (no women allowed to touch) paying their respects and sticking their own piece of gold leaf to the sacred rock

View shrouded by cloud sadly

And we though there was only going to be the rock and a pagoda. Turns out a whole community calls this place home

View to the east

Moody

Bend at the knees

Howzat?!

No spare seat would be acceptable. They made sure every truckload had as many people on board as possible. Life was no longer valued when you sat on this truck.

Yangon by night

On multiple occasions we've been thanked by locals for visiting their country

With tourism only just starting to kick off again in Myanmar, it's nice walking the streets and not being targeted as you would in Thailand or other parts of SE Asia

Streetfood lunch

The umbrella - providing protection from the rain, sun and pigeon poo

Since leaving Hanoi, we've followed a southwestern path, meaning the heat in Yangon was at times oppressive

Inside the complex of the Shwedagon Pagoda, the most sacred Buddhist pagoda in Myanmar

The Shwedagon Pagoda in all it's gold gilded glory

The Shwedagon Pagoda is said to contain relics of the four previous Buddhas of the present kalpa (era)

Three young lads from the Tsunami Village, across the river from Yangon

It would seem the average age of tourists in Myanmar is a lot higher, compared with other parts of South East Asia

Post-service inflation - a classic tactic employed by locals

Blue satellite dishes aplenty

The Yangon circuit rail system