Waking up to perfect blue skies (30degC and rising at 8am) I planned to get out and make the most of my last few hours in Hsipaw. However, due to the slow connection it took me ALL MORNING to book my flight to Malaysia. They say here that “www” stands for “wait…….wait…….wait” – which is fair enough, as Wi-Fi since Yangon has been reliably, dependably, awful. The people here use telephones, snail mail (usually passed hand-to-hand by bus), word of mouth and a funny network of questionably accurate timetables embedded in the memories of the local “bus gurus” to get information and people from A to B, and whilst it works great when you’re within the country, it makes it very hard to leave.

Following the flight-booking fiasco and with a couple of hours to kill before our buses (I’m outta here, Clara’s got more to do in Myanmar) we figured we’d hire a motorbike and get to a nearby waterfall for a cool-off dip in the now comically-intense sunshine. The hostel advised we leave the motorbike near a monastery and hike 45 minutes to the falls, but we really didn’t have time for that, so decided to take the motorbike along the hiking path. Technically allowed, but to cut it short – more near-death experiences to add to the list:

 As with most of the sprawling municipalities in Myanmar, there’s a big stinking rubbish heap just outside the town. The people here have spent their entire lives comfortably throwing all waste out of the back window and letting it degrade, but unfortunately that doesn’t work with plastic, metal and glass and the whole country is choking under the mix of old habits and new materials:

Some time around the 39th  near-death experience, a cloud of butterflies exploded in front of us, making the whole thing so much less stressful. In fact, in reflection, it was all great.

Besides, we did make it to the waterfall in great time, and what a fall it was:

By now we were pretty clued in on what to do – GET IN!

It was definitely the most intense of the waterfalls I’ve seen here. In the rainy season, the cascades take no prisoners, the volume of water is utterly staggering:

Still, some spots make for an awesome shoulder massage:

We also found a rainbow having a swim in the fall with us!

Reluctantly leaving the cool waters, we descended the muddy steps, jumped back onto the bike and took a deep breath in preparation for the return journey.

Despite a couple of issues with the bike’s brakes (apparently when the front brake jams on it makes riding a bike pretty tricky) we did get back to Hsipaw in time for Roti, pineapple, and our booked bus transfers:

In case you’re wondering, this is what an “official bus station” looks like in Myanmar:

I’d booked the bus back to Yangon to take my flight out of Myanmar – to Penang. Although she suggested that she’d be coming to Malaysia at some point, saying goodbye to Clara in Hsipaw was saddening – it’s the people you meet that make travelling experiences unique.

We’d had a great few days exploring Myanmar and trekking together. Asia is a melting pot of wide-eyed adventure seekers from all over the planet… so whilst you’re sure to genuinely get along with almost everyone you meet, you’re unlikely to see them again, for a long time, if ever…

Bright and early at 7.20am we took a bike-tuk-tuk to the station in Pyin Oo Lwin. Like many buildings in the town, it’s of colonial build, and it seems it hasn’t really been updated since:

With only two trains a day and costing <$3 for an upper-class ticket along the popular stretch to Hsipaw, the posh carriage of this train is practically entirely filled with tourists. In fact, there were more tourists in this carriage than I’d seen in the whole of Burma, and I was slightly concerned it was all a big trap to pile us off a bridge and get rid of us all in one go. They even had to add an extra carriage to contain us all:

The train leaves daily at 8am (having departed Mandalay at 4am!) and moves at less than 20km/h, taking the best part of a day to get from Pyin Oo Lwin to Hsipaw. Be prepared for a slightly bumpy ride, as you deal with the combination of ancient, rock-riddled track and worn-out suspension that seems most effective when maxed out to the left. One person we spoke to reported totally derailing, which must have been fun. The views from the window (left side is best in that direction) keep you entertained the whole way, and the frequent village stops are great for a quick stretch of the legs and some impulse buying of cold noodles, chicken feet and my personal favourite roadside snack; a whole pineapple. Impractical, but incredibly juicy and tasty.

There was one stop which we believe was made entirely to enable people to observe this view:

Undoubtedly the highlight, the train crosses the Goteik bridge – the tallest viaduct in Myanmar. At the time of completion, it was also the longest railway bridge in the world! First the wooden one, now this! Nice one Myanmar.

Trundling over this huge steel framework in a carriage which felt unstable at 20km/h on solid earth really brings a terrifying and inspiring perspective to the already incredible valley:

I set up my action cam and took a little timelapse to show you too!:

Aside from being a really chilled out and relaxing experience with surprisingly comfortable seats, the bridge is one of the main reasons tourists take the train on this stretch. Here’s proof:

Following the bridge, there are a few entertaining moments where the train brushes past fast-growing, unkempt hedgerows at “speed”, landing a free mixed salad on your lap. Don’t eat it.

Finally, after nearly six hours of rattling, sightseeing and snoozing, the carriage rolled into Hsipaw, and the heavens opened above us. There are plenty of guides at the train station advertising the various guesthouses in town, though easily the best are the ones in the Mr Charles chain and the Red Dragon Hotel. Thijs, Clara and I jumped into a free shuttle, checked into Red Dragon, grabbed some food at the corner cafe, signed up to a 2-day trek starting the next morning and ploughed through a bottle of Myanmar whisky.

Er. I mean, sleep. We got some sleep. Best be feeling good in the morning!

So, the plan created over Jungle Juice and beer last night was that Thijs would jump onto a scooter and go explore “some waterfall” with Amanda from Canada, whilst Clara and I would attempt to hitchhike to Pyin Oo Lwin, via the Mandalay palace and Anesakhan waterfalls.

Stepping out of the hotel, we extended our arms like zombies and hopped onto a “chicken bus” – so called because you’re all stuffed into a cage-like tuk-tuk like chickens, and easily got to the palace. Good start:

We didn’t go in, as it costs $10, and we wanted to get to the waterfall that day, so instead we hailed a local and asked him to take us to the highway, where there’s only one way to go. Apparently, Western logic is nothing like Myanmar logic, and it took us ages to explain that we were hitchhiking, and didn’t want to go to the bus stop. We employed the Anglophonic Communication Protocol – if he doesn’t understand, shout louder and slower. At least the car was air conditioned:

Eventually we arrived at the highway, where we spotted a tractor approaching. He was going the right way, so we hopped on. Why the heck not, eh?

 Sitting on the rear wheel guards we got to see Myanmar up close, as pieces of it were kicked up into our faces. I also thought at one point that my spine had popped out the top of my head from the shaking and juddering, but it turns out it’s OK. The driver took us as far as the toll gate, then hilariously asked to took a selfie with us.

We flagged down the next chicken bus, knowing that there’s only one road from there, and coincidence of all coincidences, we found on-board Corinne and Yan, who we’d met in the hostel in Mandalay – seems we were to share a chicken bus all the way!

As we left, I felt like I hadn’t really seen much of Mandalay itself, but after walking around a bit and seeing a fair chunk from the chicken busses, I also felt like I wasn’t missing much. Plus the view from the top of the chicken bus as we ascended into the mountains was incredible:

As we shared a couple of beers and played cards with the local travellers on top of the bus, it made the whole trip over awesome.

In surprisingly good time, we found ourselves in Anisakhan and set about finding a stop for a toilet break and somewhere to leave our bags. Noting that there weren’t any hotels for >20 minutes’ walk, we opted for an ice-cream shop instead. Purchasing a chocolate ice cream each, we were entitled to use the toilets and leave our bags all afternoon, bargain! We got directions to the waterfall, started walking, found some people heading the same way on a bike, nearly died with 3 of us on the back of the moped, and arrived at the top of the waterfall road to find (to our amazement) Thijs, with Amanda from the hostel in Mandalay! They’d hired scooters and made it to “some waterfall” at exactly the same time as us, so we got walking together. Whilst the views are amazing, the 45 minute descent to the waterfall is a bit of a grind down a zig-zagging road, but we decided to spice it up by taking risky jungle shortcuts:

 We were thoroughly rewarded in the end:

The waterfall is really incredible. We enjoyed a good 30 minutes ignoring the “no swimming” signs, finding dragonflies, little pools, natural slides, giant spider webs and mountain crabs. Really, mountain crabs!!

Highlights included getting a free foot massage, including annoying “wish you were here” voice over:

And jumping into plunge pools, which you should also really try sometime!

Just as we were getting out, I overheard a local saying something about how this was the first of three waterfalls, and that it was possible to climb to the other two, including a jungle-trek shortcut to the top. It didn’t take much to persuade the others to get on board with this idea, and this is where things got really special.

We followed the guide up a nearly-invisible path to the top of the first fall, and I climbed a tree that hung over the top of the waterfall, getting a real kick from my precarious vantage point:

  A brief explore of this plunge pool and the guide started wandering up the centre of the next fall, saying “follow follow!”:

We all laughed. Oh, how we chucked… But he wasn’t joking. Gulping, then dumping bags and shoes, we waded the pool and scrambled after him. I grabbed my Muvi. Here goes nothing…

It was quite a challenging ascent up through the torrential water, slippery rocks and plunge pools of unfathomable depth, but we had an absolute blast, scrambling the next two falls to reach the top:

 From here, barefoot and soaking wet, we slid down a nearby narrow jungle path to our bags, still waiting safely at the second plunge pool, invisible to the oblivious tourists below. I had a brief moment of panic when I was bitten unexpectedly by a big, angry red ant, but the stinging went pretty quickly and I laughed it off to experience. Bitten by red ant – check!

The guide led us up a steep jungle path for a good 20 minutes, intersecting the zig-zag road near the top. It was steeper and tougher than the trekking at Inle, and definitely a more interesting way to get back!

Waving a quick goodbye to Amanda and Thijs (who said he would catch us at the hostel later), Clara and I grabbed our bags from the ice-cream shop (adventure win) and hitched a quick chicken bus from Anisakhan to our hostel in Pyin Oo Lwin, sharing with a local couple who invited us to try some local fruits and snacks!:

 Speaking to people at the hostel later, and at other moments during my subsequent days, I realise now that the Anisakhan waterfall ascent was one of those special experiences that very few tourists get to enjoy. That pretty much maxed-out the Adventurometer, and damn did I sleep well.

This morning, Clara, another couple of girls we met at the hostel, and I, jumped out of the hostel into (surprise surprise) pouring rain, to hitch a lift to the ferry port. We were headed to Mingun, a site famous for a few monuments well worth seeing. We aimed to catch a taxi, but were told by a friendly local that it’s nearly impossible to hail a cab in Mandalay, and as it was raining he offered us a lift instead! What a nice guy. We didn’t have a lot of time to get to the port, so we were grateful. Even when he stopped to ask for directions (we knew the way, but couldn’t seem to communicate this) and when he stopped to get Betel nut chew (really? Is it that urgent?) and when he decided to drive right past the port, taking 5 minutes to do a U-turn to bring us 10m closer to the boat. Nice, but… *sigh*. This sort of run-around is very common in Myanmar when hitchhiking, or even taking a cab. Still, free ride, can’t complain, right?

Arriving just in time to get a ticket and hop onto the boat, we enjoyed an hour-long trip across the river, through mild drizzle. We could see our destination long before arriving:

Started in 1790, Mingun pagoda was designed to be the world’s tallest pagoda, and stand over 152m tall. Here’s a model of what it was supposed to end up like:

Amongst much superstition, the king who commissioned its building died before it was completed, and the giant red-brick monolith was abandoned at just 50m tall. An earthquake in the 1830’s seriously damaged the temple, leaving it in a ruined state that would make Lara Croft proud to explore its crumbling platforms:

We were told it was 100 steps to the top, but we weren’t told that the steps get bigger as you climb, which is mildly frustrating. In any case, the rain subsided as we reached the fair haul to the top, rewarding us with a breathtaking view of the surroundings:

Descending and nabbing a quick photo of me, and the colourful local markets:

We walked 5 minutes from the Pagoda to take a quick look at the world’s largest working bell. Apparently there’s a larger one in Russia, but they broke it. This one sounds amazing when struck, using a big wooden stick:

Next up was the Princess “White Elephant” pagoda, built in memory of the consort of the King, who died during childbirth. It’s unique in its rounded, tiered approach, and loads of fun to explore! Climbing to the top provides a brilliant perspective on the Mingun pagoda, which is truly goliath:

Finishing up there we made our way back to the boat and hid from the now-pounding rain below deck.

I basically spent the rest of the afternoon traipsing around Mandalay trying to find an electronics shop which would sell me a laptop charger. Clearly, I found one, else this blog would have died a death long ago!

Arriving at the hostel, we found Thijs! Upcoming plans soon started to form over Jungle Juice and Myanmar beer (not sure if that sort of planning is good or bad) and we agreed on an 8am breakfast to make an early start on moving on. We each had different ideas on how to get to Pyin Oo Lwin, but we knew it would be an adventure from the start.

My first thought this morning was that I’d had one more drink than was sensible last night. Thankfully, the coffee at the Italian-run Ostello Bello is brilliant, and they even have real milk, which is rare here in Myanmar.
After waiting what felt like an eternity for Thijs to finish his breakfast (after I got up especially early to give myself time) the 5 of us hopped into our booked private minicab to Mt Popa.
The scenery around Bagan is a real contrast to everything else I’ve seen so far – sparse jungle and palm plantations.

This area of Myanmar is famous for their palm products. We stopped briefly at a palm plantation “outlet”, where the plantation manager graciously provided us with free tea and tea-leaf salad (one of Myanmar’s national dishes):

The tea leaf salad is extremely bitter but relatively enjoyable thanks mainly to the super fresh crunchy roasted peanuts. On that note, if you have a peanut allergy, don’t come here – EVERYTHING is fried in peanut oil. We also had a sip of palm liquor, known locally as “Jungle Juice”. It’s also pretty bitter, and is either an acquired taste or just plain terrible, I’m honestly not sure which.

Getting back on the road, we turned the corner to the mountain road. A lot of locals appear to want to hitchhike along this road, but we didn’t have space for all 400 people we saw on the way, and what with the Myanmar hitchhiking gesture being a slowly-extending hand and a lean, it sort of felt like a zombie apocalypse, so we were happy to stay in our private air-conditioned cab.

Shortly, we arrived at the mountain and were encouraged to step out and profit from the specially built Popa viewpoint. The temple looked great from here:

It was only a few more minutes in the cab before we found ourselves at the base of the 777 steps we were to climb. It’s a mission and a half:

The covered climb is interesting; spotted with shops, people collecting donations, monkeys demanding food – and holding your sunglasses to ransom if you don’t give it to them:

In the background you’re treated to an ever growing view of the Popa volcano:

But you really have to fight to get there, it’s rammed with locals!

Finally reaching the top, we enjoyed the cool breeze and the incredible view over a Myanmar I didn’t recognise from the trek to Inle Lake:

We enjoyed a few minutes tranquillity and descended to the bus. A quick stop for lunch and we were soon back in Bagan for dinner, another attempt at watching the sunset (far better today – I’mma plug that gallery again!) and a general farewell to the group, as we all headed separate ways. While Akira and Sabrina headed for home, Clara, Thijs and I made plans to meet in Mandalay, but I’m fast learning how quickly plans change when travelling – it’s all too easy to break your heart chasing friends, in the end, you just have to follow your feet.