Myanmar - Bagan - Day 2 Part 3

After a nice sandwich, a few big bottles of water and lounging by the pool at the Tharaba Gate Hotel, I decided to continue on my little exploration around Bagan, just after lunch, under the scorching sun of the Burmese Dry Zone.

Tharaba Gate, Old Bagan

I started at Tharaba Gate itself, or what’s left of it. At its height, Bagan had an inner and outer core of a city, and the important districts lay within the walls, with the palace complex itself just behind the city gate.

The gate itself is a shadow of its former glory, having been destroyed by the Mongols, but some remnants of the main defensive walls that encircles the city and reach to the Irrawaddy River stand, though the moat is silted up, with some sections reaching as high as 5 meters. The gate can just squeeze in a modest-sized minivan.

Just within the walled city is a temple built as a replica of the one in Bodhgaya, India: the Mahabodhi Temple, built in 1215. It has striking similarities to a temple tower within the Shwedagon Pagoda complex, though arguably this was built first.

One of many 'Stations of the Buddha'

This temple contains dedicated walkways that document Gautama Buddha’s life, from a special pavement where pilgrims can pace up and down on cool marble slabs to imitate Buddha’s pacing up and down in a beautiful garden, to a small complex with a pool, which seems to have run out of water.

The Bupaya, Old Bagan

A short drive away, amidst lacquerware schools, by the river is the Bupaya, the first stupa built in Bagan. The stupa, though not as impressive as later constructions, has a setting that creates a certain impact. On the banks of the Irrawaddy River, on a small bluff, rises a big bell-shaped chunk of gold.

Makeshift quay, Bupaya, Old Bagan

Just outside, down the stairs that lead to the riverbank, is what I presume is a main quay, with boats moored on the shore, some taking tourists on a sightseeing cruise along the river or to ferry people up and down the shores. The river is quite majestic, with a small island in the bend.

Around the corner, with towering pagodas beckoning me in, the driver stopped by another great pagoda, the Gandawpalin Pagoda, this time shimmering white, looking as if the plaster was laid not too long ago, with the main stupa’s spire gilded top shining under the hot midday sun.

Gandawpalin Temple, Old Bagan

It was here where I encountered a rather interesting business model. It could have been a happy coincidence or a well-executed plan, but as I was taking pictures from the gate while walking up, a girl, looking as if she was fresh out of school, popped out of nowhere and seemed genuinely surprised and apologetic that she almost got in to my picture. She then told me of a few good spots for photos. My scam radar was pinging like no tomorrow.

'View 1' recommended, Gandawpalin Temple

This girl told me she was not a scam artist, and that she works with the temple. Fair enough, it is a free market and she did not look like your average peddler with trinkets having off her body. Yet, something didn’t feel quite right as we walked around the temple as I took pictures.

I was just waiting for her to ask something. Donation? Offers of discrete dealings? A diplomatic pass? (The latter is not too far off the mark: my face seems to say ‘UN’ or ‘diplomat’ in some countries.) It was none of the above. She asked if I wanted to buy her book.

'View 2' recommended, Gandawpalin Temple

Now that was very new. She had other things to sell but she went straight for book. After complementing her on her business acumen and language skills, I went down for a bargain. I asked for KYT 5,000 from her offer of KYT 10,000 for her copy of ‘Folk Tales of Burma’, which she agreed to, on the condition that I buy a set of postcards. I was hesitant on the postcards, until she pulled the ‘you will help my brother go to school’ card.

I decided to buy both, and she assured me her postcards are top quality and will not be easily found anywhere else in Bagan (which was true: had a hard time finding it in the other major temples). I had my own condition: explain to me how it all worked.

She told me every temple has a cooperative, which fits with her ‘work with the temple’ cover. She also told me they buy their goods from a supplier in New Bagan, and every peddler has their own niche. Some do lacquer, aiming at middle-aged European tourists, some aim book towards travellers like me, all have their market and no one intrudes.

Wishing her a good day, I complemented her on her very good grasp of English. She was a bit shy from the complement, saying the travellers she met at the temples and in Bagan taught her. I can see why she chose the extroverted complimentary guide niche in the temple.

New finishing over older wooden carvings, Thatbinyu Temple

Within the stairwell, Thatbinyu Temple looking towards Gandawpalin

From there I went to another temple across the road, the Thatbinyu Temple, and before I could react, I was ‘guided’ by a guide who did not want money (A first?). She did not have the finesse of the girl in the previous temple, but she did lead me up passageways where I could get to the terrace, view the ‘skyline’ of Bagan and explained to me the wooden panels and murals.

View, upper terrace, Gandawpalin Temple

View, upper terrace, Gandawpalin Temple

Gandawpalin Temple, Old Bagan

In return: she wanted me to buy lacquerware. I told her I have a budget, and interestingly enough, she seemed to enjoy pushing a business card case which cost less than the set of coasters I got. Told her I had more utility with the coasters than a business card case. For KYT 10,000 from the original KYT 20,000 for a set of 8 coasters with fine carvings, I was happy.

Interior bracing, Nanpaya Temple

Brahma carving, Nanpaya Temple

Next up was a lone Hindu temple, the Nanpaya Temple, amidst a sea of Buddhist temples. While the exterior is well preserved, the interior suffered structural damage from the 1975 earthquake and had to be supported by internal braces. Inside the dark cavernous hall, the beautiful murals were best seen with a flashlight, and the carvings in the central sacred space are well preserved.

There were a few other, equally impressive temples and ‘libraries’ with even more beautifully preserved murals, which sadly I cannot remember the names of for the life of me, but are still best viewed with a flashlight. The authorities seem to have either switched them all off or made it so dim, it doesn’t seem to make much difference. There were a few clusters, within close proximity to the lacquerware factories and such, and within a village, it gave a sense of what life would have been like in the day.

Interestingly, only temples built by kings, or major stupas have names. The other stupas and temples are numbered. According to my driver and multiple books on the subject, the numerous temples and stupas were built by anyone who had means. The kings, since they had the most resources, built the most lavish ones, while merchants and senior officials built their own, both for merit and paying for their upkeep and a resident clergy. The great masses of unnamed temples have a number assigned to them, catalogued by Pierre Pichard, a French architect in 1996.

Mingalazedi Stupa

Next up was the Mingalazedi Stupa, this time ungilded and in its raw red Burmese brick form. Up from the terrace, you can see the wide expanse of the Bagan Plains, this time from within the walled city, which gives a majestic dense view.

First terrace view, Mingalazedi Stupa

Here, walking along the first terrace, glazed terracotta plaques narrate the jatakas, old Buddhist stories narrating the life of Buddha and other Buddhist tales and fables. Sadly, the top two terraces were not open, as the view would have been breathtaking.

'Prime Minister's Temple'

Dhammayangi Temple, Bagan

Interior, Dhammayangi Temple

After a quick stop at another temple, the ‘Prime Minister’s Temple’ as my driver put it, we went the Dhammayangi Temple. This is the largest temple in Bagan, and because of its sheer bulk and amount of materials used in its construction, from certain angles and from a distance, it looks pretty much like an Egyptian step pyramid. Within, the corridors snake around a central sacred space, with some corridors and arches partially filled in, which only lends to legends and myth about this building.

Sulamani Temple, Bagan, note similarities to Ananda Temple

Shwesandaw Temple

Then, a short drive away, we went to the Sulamani Temple, before heading to the main sunset temple, the Shwesandaw Temple. I was informed that during the peak season, it would be hard to get a spot. Not what I experienced. As sunset was around 1730 onwards, we went there early, around 1630 for me to walk around and get a nice spot on the top terrace.

Steps along Shwesandaw Temple

It was, to put it lightly, a bit of an ascent up, somewhat steeper than the first stupa I scaled up, but with views that define Bagan. The first two terraces already had impressive views, but from the top terrace, some people were already setting camp, complete with tripods and multiple lenses. The closer it got to sunset, the more people came, but everyone had a good spot to view it.

Gandawpalin Temple on left, Ananda Temple on right

Dhammayangi Temple on left, hills in the backdrop

Up here, I could see the Bagan Plains all the way to the hills and mountains that trap in the heat. The multiple spires, temples and stupas jot out from the landscape, just begging you to imagine what it was like at its height. While Angkor has the wide landscape with a large centerpiece, Bagan has the density and feel of metropolitan majesty.

Mingalazedi and Irrawaddy River in background

Most importantly, there were no massive tour groups blocking you, the only mild annoyance was the loud but thankfully small group of Mainland Chinese tourists who went up then quickly went down. That pretty much summed up Bagan for me. 

Myanmar - Bagan - Day 2 Part 2

Entrance to the Bagan Archaeological Zone requires a pass, and it can be easily obtained at the airport. Entrance fee is USD 15 or 15 Euros, which may be steep especially when compared to the Angkor sites but bear in mind, this pass is valid for 5 days. At first I wondered what utility it had as no one checked and I was a bit cautious to give money to a cause that might or might not use the money for restoration and preservation, until I was at the last temple to view the dramatic sunset over the Bagan Plains, where a security officer marveled at the high quality pass I got from the airport as opposed to the flimsy paper variety usually found in town.

Top terrace, Pulzedi Stupa, Bagan Plains

So, after an early morning on the top of a stupa surveying the Bagan Plains at sunrise, taking in a 360* view of the place, I was approached, as you do in places like these, by a trader.

There I was, perhaps his third visitor, on top of a stupa at dawn. He offered to take a picture of me with the Plains as a backdrop, and the seasoned traveller within told me he was up to something. Of course, he wanted me to look at his sand paintings, a specialty in the region. What piqued my interest was that he was not pushy, but asked politely, to look at his paintings.

Granted, if he just sat there and sold someone else’s paintings, I might not have been interested, but he showed me how it was done, explaining the intricate process in getting a sand-base against the cloth, and showing me a painting he was in the process of making. Even more, he did not push for the expensive large one but a more practical one. After some bargaining, a simple 30 x 60 cm sand painting of Bagan at sunrise set me back KYT 8,000. Well worth it, especially with its craftsmanship.

Next on the list were even more stupas and pagodas, and this in particular was a small rectangular ‘library’ a short drive away, noted for carvings of animals on the wall and a reclining Buddha inside. This was quickly followed by another collection of stupas and ‘libraries,’ some of which were gated and closed.

Htilominlo Temple, Bagan

This was quickly followed by the grand Htilominlo Pagoda, built in 1218, still in use, still in multiple stages of ‘restoration,’ and surrounded by a ‘market’ in the courtyard. I carefully walked in, minding the devotees and worshipers who were there to pray, some individually, others being led in to the multiple cells by monks clad in burgundy-coloured robes, and set out to explore.

Interior, with Buddha image and niches, Htilominlo Pagoda

The Htilominlo was built in the 13^th century and is one of the tallest around, at 46 meters. Walking around the perimeter, and inside the corridors, natural light streams in, illuminating the numerous Buddha statues and a few murals on the walls, with niches about against the main wall facing the windows, empty and waiting for votive Buddha statues.

However, it is here that you can see the reservations that UNESCO has in giving the Bagan Archeological Zone a World Heritage Site status. While yes, it is breath taking and beautiful, the level of preservation does raise questions. The old and the new get blurred together. The interior is white washed and you can see outlines of new murals, which when compared to the 12^th century ones I will see later, are similar by quite a stretch. Slap and sketch, rather than imitation and intricateness to original styles seem to be the order of preservation here.

Restoration work, Htilominlo Temple, Bagan

While majestic, the interior somehow does not have the same aura or effect of a majestic building built during the glory days of indigenous Southeast Asian empires. The exterior though, was being preserved, and the method of stucco and plaster seems to match the originals in other surrounding structures. The age old ‘Ship of Theseus’ paradox comes to mind.

12th century murals, unknown 'library'

Then there was yet another library down the road, but this, I was assured, was worth the pop, as inside are well preserved murals of the Buddhist jatakas, or stories and fables, dating from the 12^th century. Thankfully, I brought a flashlight with me, as the interior is dark and flash photography is forbidden. Shining my torchlight against the walls, the murals popped out, colours somewhat faded over the centuries but still a sight.

12th century murals, unknown 'library'

This library though, was taken care of by a trader, who aptly had a small ‘stall’ outside selling books. Most of these books are bootleg copies, easily purchased wholesale from a printer in New Bagan. Amidst copies of books, I opted for that old tale of Empire in the East: Burmese Days by George Orwell. Not only did he have the English version, he also had a French version, and an abridged version. At KYT 5,000 a copy, I could have bargained lower but it was still a fair price, considering he was the gatekeeper, literally, and a copy cost significantly less than USD 1 to produce.

Collection of votive stupas, Bagan Plains

From one ancient structure to another, the cool of the morning gave way to the heat of the midday sun. In the comfort of the executive Toyota, the parched dry zone looks like what it is: a forgotten land, the remains of what was once a great city before the Mongols came in and bent it to submission. The midday heat and the dry weather only made the effect even more strongly felt that you were in a land that saw much during her time.

Votive pagoda, Bagan Plains

Passing a few make-shift camps, tents and stalls, we passed travellers in their bicycles, shuffling from one shady spot to another, big minivans filled with Europeans and the occasional horse cart with a few Caucasian couples inside it. Though this is the peak season, it did not feel like it, and I was thankful for that. Few people, little impact, and an almost absence of tourists in massive busses annoying you to no end.

Khmer-style wooden pavilion, Burmese-style pagoda

The temples come in all shapes and sizes, architectural styles and building materials with slight distinctions from one to another. Some have very Khmer-style roofs, others a mishmash of Indic designs, but all anchored with a strong Burmese identity.

Ananda Temple in the distance

Then there it was: the highlight of Bagan. The great Ananda temple, built in 1105 by King Kyanzittha. My driver stopped in a shady area, where he went for a drink and a quick rest, as he told me again to be weary of the peddlers who will try all and sundry to get you to buy stuff.

Entering the intricate and ornate ancient arcade, I was teased through the arches on the majesty of the place. Small stupas and lone Bodhi trees in the courtyard, bells in corners by the pavilions, and an aura of importance to the site, all lend to the effect of drama and statement.

Restoration work, Ananda Temple

But I sought to prolong this little lease, heading directly in to the temple itself. Through the south doorways, I noticed restoration work being done. Clear white plaster against the walls, as artisans smooth out each layer before drawing their murals. Then there, past the first antechamber, the great space dominated by a standing Buddha, one of four facing the cardinal directions.

Kasappa Buddha, south sanctum, Ananda Temple

In all its glitter and gold, there amidst the dark inner sanctum lit by votive candles and a few spotlights, stood Kasappa Buddha, the third enlightened one of the present age. Word has it the entire statue is made of a bronze-gold alloy, whereas the other Buddha images are teak gilded with gold. Within the corridors, two passageways surround the interior, each with openings to let in the light, just enough light to illuminate the passageways but dark enough to give it an air of mystery.

Interior corridor, Ananda Temple

The interior is a lot cooler than the outside, and cooler than a few other temples and pagodas I went to. Legend has it that eight monks described the Nandamula Temple caves they went to in the Himalayas to King Kyanzittha. So impressed was he that he asked them to design a temple which could replicate the caves and cool environment in the hot Bagan Plains. So impressed was King Kyanzittha by the finished product, he had the eight monks killed to prevent another similar temple to be built elsewhere.

Ananda Temple and arcade

Having explored the interior, I decided to admire the exterior. Finding a suitable exit, I walked out to the midday sun, my hat providing shade and a slight feel of an archaeologist walking through ruins of a once forgotten city about me. There, I gazed upwards, the top of the spire gilded gold, glittering in the midday sun. Smaller spires paid homage to the central spire, evoking the great central tower and smaller spires of the transepts of great medieval cathedrals.

Ananda Temple, Burmese monks

Outside, a few travellers were admiring the architecture, as locals milled by, ambivalent towards both tourists and used to their ancient heritage they see every day. A few Buddhist monks, in their characteristic burgundy-robes walked by, and a few decided to stop to take pictures with and of their majestic temple.

Ananda Temple, restoration work ongoing

From the outside, the mishmash of styles is evident, with the Indian-inspired spire, local Mon-inspired entrances and European arcades. The process of restoration was ongoing, with the exterior being scraped and a new layer of plaster applied, giving the building and restored sections an almost otherworldly sheen.

By now, the midday sun and almost four hours of temple hopping took its toll. I was not hungry, but needed a proper rest to recharge. Thankfully, the Thamada Gate Hotel was just next to the Ananda Temple, so I went in, checked-in and sat down for lunch and 2 servings of 1 litre bottle of water. I must add: the pool was very inviting amidst the midday heat.

Myanmar - Bagan - Day 1 Part 1

Pagan, also known as Bagan, is up in the dry zone in the centre of Myanmar, was built in 849 BC, and was gradually built up until the 13^th century. The Classical Pali name itself lends a clue to the significance of this place, which understandably draws people in: Arimaddana-pura, the city that tramples on enemies; and Tampadippa, the bronzed country. The city definitely tramples the mind with awe and makes you feel more bronzed than that other bronzed country, Australia.

To get to Bagan, I had to fly in t Nyaung-U, or Nyaung-Oo, the closest major urban centre to Bagan. There were four options on three airlines, all leaving at an ungodly hour: Asian Wings Airlines left first, Myanma Airways and Air Mandalay. Asian Wings left at around 0545, Myanma Airways at 0600 and Air Mandalay’s first flight was at 0620, with the second one 10 minutes later.

As a result, I had to be at Yangon’s domestic terminal at 0500, and 0545 the latest. Now, the domestic airport looks like a throwback to the past when I collected my ticket but at the airport itself, it felt like I was really in another world: The counters were old-school, the weighing machine was pretty much weighted instead of digitized, the waiting area is the same as the check-in area and with no proper ventilation, I would not want to be there in the afternoon.

Thankfully, the flights to Bagan were all in the morning, with return flights leaving just after dawn or in the early evening back to Yangon. The Air Mandalay flights were shuttle flights, with a stop at Nyaung-U on the way to Mandalay or Nawpyidaw.

The flight to Nyang-Oo left early, and we were shuttled via bus to our old ATR. In what felt like a hand-me-down, the seats were fairly comfortable and the plane was half-full. For USD 232 return to Bagan, it sure deterred all but the price inelastic crowd, and it looked like it inside the plane. The flight took 1 hour and 20 minutes, I was served tea and a croissant with cheese, and I had Camille Saint-Saen’s Organ Symphony No 3 finale playing in my head.

From above, the Bagan Plains did look as advertised: it was dry. A few hedgerows here and there and the hills providing a good backdrop to an entry in to an ancient land, all I saw was a dry, parched land with few vegetation and few settlements.

Yet what caught my eye was the glitter of gold on a few temples against the sunrise and the few hot air balloons that do the morning flights that, apparently, capture the beauty of Bagan. Up in the sky, it did, and as the grand organ fanfare played its crescendo, we were descending, and the grand temples and spire, pagoda and stupas were spread out to as far as the eye could see all along the plains, from the tops of hills to the edge of fields.

As soon as we landed, I decided not to waste time. Deciding to check-in to the hotel later, I was all excited in exploring this ancient city left bare and somewhat untouched by mass tourism. I read about using horse carts, and I was tempted to, but my taxi driver talked me out of it, saying it doesn’t get much fun after the first 2 hours on an entire day of exploration, as it lacked suspension.

So, with a negotiated fare of KYT 40,000 or USD 43 for a dawn to dusk ride including airport transfer, I took him up on the offer on his very comfortable executive-class Toyota which thankfully had suspension and air conditioning, a very different ‘carriage’ than in Yangon.

Now, the weather was interesting: when we got off the plane, it was very cool, safe to assume mid-10s. My driver told me this was normal, and the weather would get progressively hotter as the sun came out. This was not a sub-tropical weather: this was arid. Thankfully, I brought my hat, which I became more useful as the day went about.

I decided to leave the itinerary to him, with my ‘shortlist’ as a few highlights. He wanted to bring me to a particular temple first, and he advised me against a few ‘traders’ who prey on tourists. He also said we’ll do the reverse of the main tour routes so that I would have most of the temples to myself.

Entrance corridor, Shwezigon Pagoda

This first temple, Shwezigon Pagoda, I must add, pretty much summed up Burma, and Bagan’s position, as Suwannaphum: the Golden Land. Walking down the corridor leading to the stupa, the eyes played tricks with the shade and glitter of the sunrise until it hits you: You are staring at a giant lump of gold.

Main stupa, Shwezigon Pagoda, Bagan

The main stupa was gold, the smaller stupas were gold, the guardian lions were gold, even the few cats there were gold in colour (well, more ginger then gold but it still looked gold against the gold). There was gold everywhere. While it did not have the same effect as Shwedagon Pagoda, it still had the same awe-inspiring shimmer.

'Peak season' travellers, Shwezigon

Gold stupas, gold lions, gold spires, gold chains

'Gold' (ginger) cat tail

After this temple, he drove me to another stupa nearby, the Pulzeldi temple, which apparently has one of the more majestic views of Bagan as opposed to the more popular options. Getting off the main road on to a dirt path, we drove up to a stupa which had exterior steel support. The support was needed due to earthquake damage in 1975.

Pulzedi Stupa, Bagan

When I arrived, two Korean girls were descending, and I was confident I had the place to myself. A few traders were getting ready, and my driver told me to take my time when he found some shade and reclined on a mat.

View, first terrace, Pulzedi Stupa

With Saint-Saens’s Organ Symphony No 3 again on my earphones, I slowly ascended up the temple, the warm rising sun playing with lights and shadows against the surrounding countryside. Having reached the first terrace, I fought the urge to admire the sneak preview and headed straight up another two terraces to the top. There, Bagan was laid before me. Words cannot fully describe the feeling, pictures fail to capture the majesty. It was breath taking.

Top, Pulzedi Stupa

From the top, you could see spires and massive structures as far as the eye can see. The rising sun providing dramatic contrasts between lights and shadows against the countryside, up and down you could see great temples and pagodas with spires that declare their builder’s wealth and power.

Fields of spires

This was Bagan, the great capital of the once great Pagan Empire of Burma.

Htilominlo Temple left, Thatbinyu Temple middle, Dhammayangi Temple right

Everywhere there were temples, stupas and pagodas, which a French historian catalogued and estimated at 2,200. I was just getting started and I was blown away. God knows what other majestic structures will make me gape in awe in the city that tramples while bronzes.