When I rose in the morning, I didn't realize clearly today was the eve of Christmas. At 7 am, I dropped a note to an Indian girl and explained to her that I couldn't go to buy train ticket to Bagan with her,since I had to leave earlier because it was for sure, going to be a long bike- ride day for me.
I knocked open the bike rental across the street when the housewife was busy making pancake oven the stove. I've thought until that moment the pancake was served only for tourists but not locals . She kindly forked me one piece, which was fresh from the oven and watched me swallow immediately, although with no honey or jam, it tasted just like pancake. I paid 1500 k for one day's bike and then my room number. That's all she needed.
So I rode away fast. The air was chilly early in the morning. The roads were not so busy as I 've observed during the day. Some stores were ready to open while more locals were strolling around for breakfast or aimlessly seemingly.
My first stop WAS the train station, where a man directed the coming cars or bikes with a bar and long rope. On second floor, one window was for foreigner, with English-speaking staff. although foreigners were already allowed to buy cheaper classes too. The staff checked my small American notes carefully and recored my passport number then handwrote a ticket, at last a chop. To Bagan, a ticket of the best class, cost 9 dollars. Must be fun, I told myself. And It turned out really to be a special experience the night after.
There are four ancient cities around Mandalay, Amapapura,Ava, Sagaing and Mingun. I chose to go visit two interesting ones Amarapura, and Ava.
Amarapura, located 11 km south of Mandalay had little remains left from palace buildings. There are several kyaung (temple) and Paya (pagoda). More interesting would be : watching hundred of monks having lunch together at the Maha Ganayon Kyaung, and the most popular teak bridge U-bein around the sunset time.
Scared by the limitation of the map, I stopped almost every 15-20 minutes for directions. So easily I found it with the help of a food store owner, a door keeper of a school, a father carring his son on the bike. Hardly it was 9:30, when the father explained me the location of U-bein bridge, I knew I already drove past it. Too early for the monks' lunch and too early for the sunset over the U-bein bridge. So I thanked them and continued my ride to Ava first.
I felt many gaze from the streets once again. I was in white T shirt and shorts now, while my jacket was around my shoulder and neck. None of information I could get from the net about biking there. And even on LP, it says: the ancient city of Inwa,for a long time a capital of northern Myanmar after the fall of Bagan,...,A FEW kilometers fouthe of Amarapura,just south of the bridge. LP, you shouldn't call yourself again information!!!
How's A FEW? Keeping that doubt, I rode as fast as I can, down the bumpy path, while avoiding the passing vehicles . Good thing was there were not many crossings. I stopped twice to ask the car repairer and fruits vendors. Some of them were quite puzzled by my greeting and suddenly understood me when I showed the word on the book INWA(AVA). I remembered once a housewife corrected me, it was AVA instead of Inwa.
Finally I got to a constrution for a tunnel or a bridge. More people were passing some inspection pass, even the sheperd walking tens of sheep. There was a river. Should be here. But where was the way to boat to cross the river to get to Ava? I just ignored the inspectative looks and made a left turn before drving onto a new asphalt road, half side done.
There was a handsome young man in the shabby office-like and with all smile he pointed me the way, ' yes, that way.' I rode on and on, feeling so dry and exhausted after another half an hour in the heat. When I pushed my heavy bike uphill to the bridge, I saw a man who just overtook me, seemingly resting or waiting for me.
He looked back at me, waiting. Half of his face was covered under a big bamboo hat. In perfect English, he answered me that within another ten more minutes I was reaching after a right turn at the pass-bar. He was a real surprise to me, speaking such a wonderful British English. Silently he sat on the bike again and rode away. Ahead of me the road was so dusty, like in desert, before asphalt put over. I rode after him, soon lagging behind him.
I saw nothing of a sign or a pass on the right after 15 minutes. So I just kept fighting on. I was so touched to see that kind man waiting for me again in the heat and dust. And this time after he made sure it was me again, he turned around and drove up to me.' You've driven past the pass.' He led me back the way. And the pass was nothing but some bamboo scaffolding to me. store place. I thanked him heartily before I drove into the narrow country path.
In the field farmers were ploughing with white baffalo under tall palm trees; there were chickens and ducks roaming, dogs lying in the shade not so excited by my arrival as many kids. I imagined I could easily found a guildance map to show all the remains and attractions or whatoever,but in vain. Finally some cluster of white pagodas appeared before me, but disppointed to tell all of them brand new. I wandered on my bike and jumped off to ask. But the woman only nodded repeatedly, meaning' a, yes, a yea, it's AVA here.'
To her it was Ava village with fields, houses, trees and animals and families, but to me Ava should have more. When I stumbled further into a narrow pathes between fields, but towards the river, I heard from behind. ' Where are you going?'
A woman in 30s appeared and voluteered to show me the way after I explained. I was a little embarassed when she chatted with some other villagers. I was an intruder, but a lost one. And yes, the anicent paya began to s
