Myanmar

"Finally....." I remember thinking

That big mysterious asian nation that has been so quietly hidden away between Thailand, India and China had finally opened its doors to the world and I was so darn excited I think I wee'd a little.

Google was telling me "Think Thailand 100 years ago"

Bloggers were saying "Come join a select group of travellers and experience asia as it was meant to be"

And OMG!! They were absolutely correct.

For years harsh military rule has completely shut Myanmar off from the entire world. They've been hidden away from foriegn influence and things had pretty much stayed the same. No tourists, no fast food, no 5 star hotels and god forbid no wifi.

But things are definitely changing.

Their future is bright and rapidly changing. It's a brave new world and the people of Myanmar finally have something to smile about. And the smiles are infectous.

Our trip like many others started in the capital Yangoon.

Big, dirty, a little dusty but BUSTING with life. Think Hanoi mixed with Bangkok and a splash of .......London. *insert confused look*

Yeah yeah, the british were here too. Their invovlment during the early 1900's resulted in lavish Victorian / Edwardian style architecture and it can be found throughout the streets of Yagoon. Actually, never have I seen a city with such a european feel, its quite remarkable.

The impressive Secretariat building in downtown Yagoon is a perfect example of such architecture and a must visit in understanding Myanmar history. Whilst blocked away from the public this historic building is where Aung San Suu Kyi's father Aung San was assassinated 6 months before Myanmar won its independence from England. As a result the country fell into a military dictatorship that ultimately shut it off from the rest off the world, killing thousands of it own people. There is hope the building will be restored and turned into a museum. Keep your fingers crossed this happens.

The downtown streets are narrow, chaotic and over crowded. Market stalls rule the roads and absolutely everyone is selling absolutely everything. Don't be surprised if you find yourself stepping over durian, ducking under sugar cane and tip toeing around animal guts. Its all just part of the fun.

Be sure to find the smiling toothless street vendor selling Faluda.

This local drink consists of rose syrup, vermicelli, psyllium, basil seeds, jelly pieces and tapioca pearls along with milk, ice and ice-cream.

Put simply, its fucking delicious. And tip the vendor, his smile alone is worth more than the 10c you'll fork out.

Next up........Shwedagon Pagoda.

Arguably one of the most famous Pagoda's in the world and for good reason. Every inch of this huge site is covered in shiny gold leaf and precious gem stones. It proudly sits atop the highest hill in Yangoon and when lit it shines like a beacon casting rays of light that illuminates the city below. Sunset is simply magical and should not be missed. But caution: Sunglasses may be needed.

Moving on from Yangoon our journey took us north to Bagan.

With a 19 hour train journey ahead, we packed our essentials and headed over to Yangoon Central Station. We bought our tickets, sat on the floor and tried to ignore the fact that all eyes were on us. We waited patiently for news, any news of when and where our train would arrive. We realised quickly that we actually had no idea where our train was. We were screwed.....

"Hello Justin Beiber" a young burmese boy taps me on the shoulder

"Beiber, I take you and Gaga to your train". Gaga being my blonde danish friend Josie.

Not knowing exactly why he was helping us, perhaps our celebrity dopplegangers played a part in his generousity but the train arrived and he shuffled us on. We thanked him, he smiled and waved us off. It felt nice being famous for 15 seconds.

Now let me describe this train. Old, loud, uncomfortable, overcrowded, barely working, smelly, no windows and a hole in the floor to do your business. Going to the toilet was playing with your life, one wrong move and boom you've slipped straight through.

We luckily spent the extra $20 for sleeper class and enjoyed cushioned seats and these proved heavely on a 19 hour train journey. The large windows made for incredible sightseeing as we crossed some stunning countryside. Towns are literally built along the tracks and pack up quickly when they hear the bellowing sounds of the train horn. Kids chase the train and can easily keep up at with our snail pace. Throw them some candy or better still some money and they jump with delight.

As the day turned to night and we huddle together for warmth the train shreeched and croaked and came to a sudden stop. In the middle of the night in the middle of nowhere a group of burmese men including our little friend from the train station come up to our carriage and ask us to get off.

"Beiber, Gaga, you must follow me"

Ahhhh what the fuck we thought, we are not getting off.

"no no, is dinner time" he replied. "is beer time too" he smiled.

We were both a tad reluctant but too hungry to care, so we jumped off.

Lead by torch light we were shuffled down the side of train and on to another carriage. In the carriage there was a table and chairs. We were quickly made to sit down and it wasn't long before plates of rice, vegetables and meat started coming out one by one. Our little teenage friend cracked open some beers and started singing "baby, baby, baby ohhh' by Justin Beiber. It was all smiles until we noticed the locals in the connecting carriages looking on, squished head to toe like cattle. This was not ok. We cannot make these people wait any longer.

"Guys this is totally not necessary, we can eat in our carriage, please start the train"

They all turned to each other, chatting rapidly in Burmese.

"Beiber, you want the train to go"

I nod politely, "yes definitely"

And just like that the train shakes into life. *CLANK* shutter "*CLUNK*

We start to rock from side to side. The train starts gathering speed. We rock some more, this time harder and faster. We struggle to hold our balance. The plates start sliding. The table starts bouncing. The beers start shaking.

"Luke, grab you beer.......quickly"

"Josie, your plate, your plate, quick grab your PLATE"

So for the next hour dinner became a game of 'whack a mole'. In one hand your held your beer tightly trying not to spill a litre of lager on your lap, in the other your fork held like a trident stabbing any food as it slides for corner to corner. Ever eaten in a washing machine???

13 hours later we arrive in Bagan.

We hop on the back of a ute and hurry into town down a dusty road.

Oh my god, you can easily spend days in Bagan.

My advice.

Get lost.

Literally.

Hike a bike and cycle your way through and around endless history. There are thousands of these magestic temples that its impossible to see one twice. Venture inside and you'll find secret passages that lead onto hidden chambers. Acient stairways that crawl in the darkness out onto the shiny tops above. Once on top you'll be rewarded with one of the most magical sunset views you will ever encounter. As far as the eye can see these ancient temples scatter across the plains like freckles on summer skin and come alive with magic as the sun dips behind. Maroons, greens, blues, purples, browns.

On day 3 Josie broke her bike. She face planted and scrapped all her face leaving her bloody and bruised. I thought it was hilarious but she took it as a sign it was time to leave.

So we jumped on a local bus that included pigs, chickens, snoring men and farting women and headed north to the mountainous region of Hsipaw (pronouced See Paw). The bus was worse than the train. No windows, metal chairs, freezing tempetures, thick dust. I gave up on breathing. There was no lights so we drove in complete darkness along cliff sides and edges overtaking cars, trucks and fellow buses. How we survived I'll never know. When cracked and croaked as we unstuck ourselves from the seat like frozen popcycles and coughed and cursed as we dusted the dirt from our aching bodies.

The next morning we woke early for a full days trek to neighbouring country villages. Here we were greeted by the most beautiful kids who all ran from their homes to see us. Waving, smiling and screaming hello, hello, hello. Planting sloppy, snotty kisses on our cheeks and hugging our legs until they lost circulation.

Now can I just say the children of Myanmar are what makes this country so incredible. Never have I seen such genuine smiles and eagerness to meet someone in my life. A hug from one of these kids means a hug from a hundred of them. They play with your hands, your face, your clothes and never does the smile shed from their face. Sometimes it was hard to unwrap them from your legs as they just didn't want to let you go. I took about a million selfies and they couldn't of been happier. I have soo much love for these little guys, they really made my trip.

On our second day we hired a guide. San Gee was his name. A hilarious tea farmer full of information, facts and history on all things Myanmar. We trekked for hours through incredible scenery but from me it was all about San Gee. From him we learn't everything there was to know. From politics to food, to education and medicine. Nothing was left out and no joke untold. So a tip my hat to you San gee. Thank you mate.

When the trek ended we finally made it to the little tea village situated on the mountain peaks. Like tar, black tea lined the streets as it dried in the suns heat. Old women line the streets picking through the many tea leafs, giant smiles and warm welcomes from all. The town was narrow and houses built close together, kids run and play, men drink tea, women welcome you into thier homes.

We decided to take one of these women up on her offer and venture inside her family home. She and her family quickly prepared a lunch of mouth watering pumpkin, rice and tea, picked fresh from the mountains. It was ayattachidai (aka delicious).

Now all things that go up must come down and for us that was on the back of a motorbike. We screamed down the mountain at full speed catching air and narrowly sliding to our death. Our drivers didnt speak a word of english and seemed to get joy as we hugged harder, holding on for dear life.

Our time in Hsipaw was ended with a visit to the Grand Shan Palace. Impossible to find, there are no guide posts and locals have no clue. We managed to find the old run down gate, pushed through some overgrown gardens and located what we believed to be the old palace.

The home was the residence to the old Shan king and his family. You can get a feeling that in its day it would have been spectacular, like a mini buckingham palace. Its gardens alone would have been show stopping.

Today its in massive dis-repair and a mere shadow of its once previous glory.

Wandering around not really knowing what to do, we were suddenly greeted by an older women. She was extremely well presented and spoke perfect english. She introduced herself as Fern and lead us into a part of the palace that was still in operation today.

Inside Fern sat us down, made us tea and introduced herself formally.

Fern was the daughter of the Prince of Shan Myanmar. Her grandfather was the king and her father his son. Her family, the royal family were removed during the military dictatorship and she never saw them again.

She was here to tell her story.

For hours me and Josie sat listening to her history, her family and the love she has for her country. We were shown books, photos and hand written letters. She actually presented us a letter from her father 'the prince' that he had written in prison and sent to her mother. This was just incredible.

She was such a kind soul, like nothing I have ever experience and we had the absolute pleasure in meeting her. All she wanted was for us to walk away and spread the word about Myanmar, its people, to tell everyone that the Burmese people welcome us with open arms and with big hearts.

She herself can not wait to meet every single one of us personally. It literally brought a tear to me eye.

The final leg of our trip took us to Inle Lake.

A lot more touristy then northern Myanmar but for obvious reasons. This little town is like the venice of Asia. Narrow canals snake through the town, people line its busy streets and old row boats dot the waterways. It smelt, it was hot and it was crowded. The colourful wooden boats were full of men all desperate for you business...

"sir my boat is best, I take you and your wife to the best places, you come with me sir"

"wife???"

We ended up picking our driver or should I say he picked us. We hopped in our little wooden boat, poked other people out of the way and headed out onto the lake. From narrow and crowded waterways you soon burst out onto a large body of water and seagulls the size of albatross's.

Homes on stilts scatter as far as the eye can see. Man-made floating islands are used to grow crops like floating farms. Local plants are used to make clothing and materials for building. Families row about from home to home trading and sharing. Monks stand guard at the many floating temples. Its truely remarkable. Life really finds away.

We stopped off for a traditional Shan cooking class with a local woman and her family. Together we cooked up a storm. Fish, Vegetables and tofu. We sat lakeside under the sun and devoured it all.

Feeling full and satisfied her husband took no time in getting me outside for a bit of leg rowing. Now leg rowing consists of standing at the back of these thin wooden boats and balancing on one leg. You wrap the other leg around the ore and swing your hips to stroke the water below.

IT IS NOT EASY.

Josie clearly didn't see the fun in it, but I was willing to give it a go. A jittery first go but I thought I was doing ok, I even had half the floating village out to witness this over-confident Aussie master the art of burmese leg rowing.

How wrong was I.

Call it too much shakira hip swinging but I ended up getting the death wobbles and within minutes was completely submerged. I came out drench, smelly and had the village in stitches.

"my son is 8, he is better than you" they laughed..

So with a wet ego but a huge smile we ended our time in Myanmar.

This truely is the land of smiles that go on and on for miles.

Thank you Myanmar.