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Published: November 3rd 2017
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An early start today, on our way to Hpa-An in Karen state, to the south east of Yangon near the border with Thailand. We crawled interminably through the Yangon rush hour, with ample time to take a rough census showing that well over 80% of all vehicles are Toyotas. We stopped to see - we thought – the iconic gate at which Aung San Suu Kyi had talked to the public during her many years of house arrest. Alas, the bamboo fence has long since been replaced by a concrete wall topped with barbed wire, and all that remains is a new gateway with flags and a picture of her father Aung San and a police sentry box.
After well over an hour slowly working our way through the suburbs, we reached the immaculately maintained Taukkyan war cemetery (the largest in Burma) which contains the graves of over 7,000 Allied and Commonwealth soldiers who lost their lives in Burma during World War Two. They include Gurkhas, Indians and Africans from the West Africa Corps and, as ever, the graves are deeply moving. There is also a memorial to the Sikhs and Hindus who died and were cremated.
The scenery
for the first half of the journey was flat, unvarying and almost devoid of people, but on the plus side the roads were new and very empty, allowing us to read as we travelled. Eventually we stopped at what I guess was the Burmese equivalent of a motorway services station, where our guide was keen to introduce us to Burmese food. Vegetarian dishes with rice seemed the safe option, and came with a bowl of soup and an array of fresh vegetables with shrimp pickle as an appetiser. It was all very tasty, and the bill for three including beer came to £4.
‘How long to Hpa-An?’ we asked, as we climbed back into our enormous 8 seater coach (the guide had obviously been concerned we might have a lot of luggage!). ‘About three hours, get there at 5pm’ was not the answer we had expected, and by now the roads were less smooth and reading was impossible. But as we moved into Karen State, the scenery became more varied, with huge limestone karst ridges and pillars rising up off a flat base. We made better progress than predicted, so were rewarded with a visit to one of the
many caves that dot the region. This one had a pagoda built into the hillside by a hot spring, in which people were bathing. Alas, as we reached the entrance, the guide informed us that as it was a sacred site, it would be necessary to climb a steep set of slippery steps for about 10 minutes, barefoot. That is more than David’s recently reconstructed ankles can manage, so we had to explain this was not practical. Any sense of disappointment was swiftly allayed by the news that the cave is home to four different species of bats. We’ve learned on several Indian trips that the stench of bat shit is one of the most nauseating smells in the world! Myo, our guide, was hugely disappointed, and determined we should not go without at least one cave visit so we detoured to a much more accessible one. This one featured tiny terracotta tiles, each one with a carving of a Buddha, all clinging to the walls of the cave and its entrance by some unknown means. The path up was lined with painted Buddha statues, and the cave itself was also full of them.
From there, it
was a short drive to our hotel, a newly built collection of wood and timber cottages occupying a beautiful site at the foot of Mount Zwegabon, a huge limestone hill with a jagged silhouette. It is a peaceful location, with no outdoor artificial lighting whatsoever, as we discovered during the frequent temporary power cuts!
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