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.