Polonnaruwa: City number two ...

Last nights sleep was disturbed not only by the sound of snoring from my roommate, but also by a pack of dogs howling from somewhere on the hotel’s complex! It went on for about five minutes, which my fellow traveller managed to sleep through! And short of tearing my hair out with frustration, (Jay had already asked me if it was real), I really didn’t know what to do, until finally I managed to fall back asleep once some of the noise had subsided.

The alarm went off at 7 and I’d like to say I sprung out of bed full of enthusiasm for the day, but instead I slowly stumbled into the bathroom, half asleep and muttering to myself whilst The Tootster kindly apologised for his snoring.

We met Jay downstairs at 8:30 and set off for the long car journey to Polonnaruwa - the second oldest city (and capital) in Sri Lanka, but not before stopping off to take a look at one of the many magnificent lakes seen across the country. As we stared at its vastness, it was so hard to believe that this huge body of water was man-made.

Then we hopped back in the car and continued our journey amidst happy banter and a few swaps of information about cultural differences.

During a discussion about Buddhism, I mentioned to Jay about my time in Myanmar last year and how our guide was constantly telling us that Buddhists don’t believe in killing anything and yet when I had asked if they still had the death penalty out there, she told me they did but refused to answer any more questions when I asked how that was ok? That surely if they believed in Karma (what goes around, comes around), then the murderers/rapists would be ‘naturally punished’? Jay told us that there was the death penalty in Sri Lanka but no one ever got that far as they would spend so much time waiting in prison, that they’d die anyway. Some remorseful offenders were granted a reprieve on one of their holiest Poyas (festival on every new moon, whereby no one works but are supposed to go to temple). He then started to tell us how when he was 3 years old his father had been murdered; stabbed to death by a couple of men who were trying to mug Jay’s mother for her jewellery, when the two of them were coming home on the train from a party. He then proceeded to cry as he explained what a hard life he, his mother and his three brothers had had and that it never seemed to upset him so much as a child, but now as an adult with two children of his own he was very affected by it.

The Tootster and I felt awful that this gentle man had got so upset and tried to console him with what we felt were useful profundities - which made no difference. And eventually after about fifteen minutes of awkward silence, we knew he was feeling better because I asked him if we could stop off to use the toilet soon as I had drunk way too much water and was fit to burst. He then told us of a well known Sri Lankan saying:

Come running like a horse

Sit down like a thief

Leave like a King/Queen

And then he laughed, hysterically.

And so, we eventually reached Polonnaruwa: a city built by King Vijyabahu during the twelfth century, succeeded by King Parakramabahu, then King Nissankamalla (see, looooong names), the kingdom became a centre of wealth and ostentatiousness, becoming one of the great urban centres of Asia, (as described by The Rough Guide Book). Taking over from Anuradhapura once it had been raped and pillaged by incessant Indian invasions.

However, they kind of overplayed their hand a bit and it took less than a century before the city was completely in ruin (there’s that pun again) and bankrupt. Invaders from Southern India had arrived and everyone fled, leaving the city to desiccate and crumble as the jungle grew over it until the ruins were discovered another 700 years or so later.

The first stop was The Vihara Statue - this was believed to be of King Parakramabahu the Great (I’ll call him KP from here on in), then we walked on to the remains of The Royal Palace itself. Found in the centre of the city, known as Vijayotpaya or Vijavanta Prasada or The Palace of God Sakra (this was named as such to show the people that God and the King were equal). Originally 7 stories high, only parts of the first three stories remain. The building would have been vast with over a thousand rooms, which would have all been used - I’d hate to have been the cleaning lady, especially with my OCD!

We went to see The Royal Bath, or it may have actually been a pond, known as Kamara Pokuna (I know, sounds like a song from The Lion King), then The Royal Council Chamber of KP - wait for it, another long name - Raja Vaishyabhujanga Mandapa and then The Vatage, which is a round building containing a stupor and this one is believed to have been the original holding place for The Tooth Relic (more about that later) again built by KP. We saw The Galpota 

: a giant piece of granite 9m long, inscribed with Sinhalese writing praising the life of King Nissankamalla. Next was The Satmahal Prasada and then the oldest Hindu shrine in Polonnaruwa: The Siva Devale.

Our penultimate stop was The Tivankan Image House which contained the remains of the only statue of Buddha in a pose that looks as though he is walking. Tivanka means ‘thrice bent’ - the image is bent at the shoulder, the hip and the knee. Remains of colourful frescos can still be seen on the wall. A guide was explaining the images to us, but all I could hear was a loud humming sound and the sight of a couple of large black insects flying in our direction. And when I say large, I mean huge - the size of the top part of my thumb. Yes,I may have shrieked and jumped behind my manly boyfriend, who didn’t even flinch,(well not obviously), but the guide laughed and told me not to worry, that they were only beetles, not harmful! 

ONLY beetles, is he having a laugh?! I cowered behind my South London Geezer, using him as a human shield as I muttered that the only beetles I didn’t mind heading my way would be John, Paul, George or Ringo, then I turn tailed and ran out faster than you could say ‘insecticide’!

The final piece we went to see was The Lotus pond, built in the shape of a lotus flower from five consecutive rings of stone; some believe this was used as a ritual bath by those about to enter The Tivanka-Patamaghara. 

Eventually, after a long morning, we were back in the car and off back to Dambulla. 

Between Anuradhapura and Polonnaruwa, my personal favourite is the latter; unlike the dry sandiness of Anuradhapura, Polonnaruwa was lush with vegetation which made it seem (for want of a better phrase) more in touch with nature, plus, as all the sites are much closer together - the whole site approx 4km North to South - it is possible to walk (ok possibly interspersed with the odd mini car ride) from one to the other, or even hire a bicycle and cycle around if the heat doesn’t put you off. I would strongly suggest that if you ever visit out here and are short for time, choose the second City of Sri Lanka -Polonnaruwa.

Driving back to Dambulla, I was woken from my little nap when Jay suddenly exclaimed: “Elephant,look, look!” And sure enough, there to the side of the road, over in the fields, a lonesome elephant could be seen swinging its trunk as it merrily chewed on the grass. I pointed out that it was obviously happier than the poor elephants we had seen in Pinnawala because it was wagging its tail too! To which The Tootster laughed and pointed out that they were not like dogs and it wasn’t wagging it’s tail because it was happy but to it bat the flies away. However, he did concede that The elephants were definitely better off out of that awful Elephant ‘sanctuary’. Then I was quite shocked to hear Jay agreeing whole heartedly with us. We drove on a little further and pulled over as another giant Elephant casually strolled past us with not a care in the world. 

And so we returned to Nice Place Hotel, ready for an early start to Sigirya. There was to be a lot more walking and a hell of a climb up to the old palace at the top of the enormous rock - 1,200 steps to be precise. My feet were still swollen from the flight and the heat and my calves were killing me from all the walking we’d already done. It was going to be a very slow treck, but it should be worth it ...

The first city ...

So much for a quiet and peaceful sleep! Well The Tootster managed one, his was apparently a deep and relaxing sleep, despite the numerous times I kicked him (politely?!) to ask him to ‘stop the bloody snoring!’ So I was not in the best of moods when the alarm went off again at 7:30 this morning.

Breakfast was buffet style, there were various curries on offer, but my delicate English stomach could only handle a light omelette and a cup of Ceylon tea.  Then Jay picked us up at 9. I was looking forward to the two hour car journey to catch up on some sleep. However, the scenery was so beautiful, I didn’t really want to miss out and as we left Dambulla and headed towards Anuradhapura we watched as the landscape became ever more greener and lush than it already was. We passed by mango trees, coconut trees, huge rice fields and a couple of large beautiful lakes - which it turns out are man-made. In fact, all of the numerous lakes in Sri Lanka are man-made, much needed due to the bad irrigation out here.

Anuradhapura is found at the centre of Sri Lanka’s northern plains. It is the oldest city here which was lost and forgotten in around 993. However, after the British invaded and colonised the island in the nineteenth century, it was ‘rediscovered’ and remains (excuse the pun) to this day a huge and valuable archeological site that could take weeks just to walk through. Even Jay was saying how easy it is to get lost, no matter how well you think you know the area. So in the short time we have to spend over here, we had a day to squeeze in the best parts, (and hope that Jay’s sense of direction is better than mine and we don’t actually get lost).

Back in the day Anuradhapura was considered one of the greatest cities of its age, filled with numerous monasteries and inhabited by approximately 10,000 monks. It’s temples and dagobas was seen amongst the greatest architecture of its time; only just beaten in size by the Egyptian pyramids in Giza (and they are pretty mammoth!)

Our first stop was The Mahavihara found at the centre of the city. It is the oldest Monastery on the site and built around the Sri Maha Bodhi; the oldest Bodhi tree in Sri Lanka, taken from the oldest Bodhi tree in the world. It was grown from a cutting taken from the original Bodhi tree in Bodhgaya in India, where Buddha found enlightenment.

As with all religious sites in Asia, out of respect, we had to remove our shoes and make sure our knees and shoulders were covered before entering. This was proved to be slightly challenging as my t-shirt only covered the top of my shoulders but luckily I had a pashmina in my bag which served as a decent cover up, though the material was a tad too hot to be wearing in over 30 degrees of heat, making me feel even hotter than I already did. The poor south london geezers shorts were just an inch too high above his knee and so having come unprepared for his mistake, he had to make do with my bright pink sarong tucked into the depths of my ruck sack, ready for our three days on the beach next week. I should point out that his love of pink is not at all equal to mine, though I have to say I thought it suited him and quite happily told him so - he was not impressed.

The stupor was amazing as was the whole Monastery but slowly our feet began to cook in the hot sand as morning slowly turned into midday and the sun started to burn down on us and we returned to the shoe stand where Jay was waiting. Being the unfit person that I am, I couldn’t just stand on one leg whilst strapping my shoe to the foot on the other, so I proceeded to take a seat on the neighbouring bench where a young woman was sat with her back to me. As I bent down to take my seat, I saw her casually lift up one buttock and let rip a couple of loud farts. 

I was rather taken aback, particularly as she really didn’t seem to be bothered, not even the slightest bit embarrassed at what she’d done so blatantly in public, but then only a short while later, whilst stood by another site talking with Jay, a group of Sri Lankan’s walked past on their way to prayer and one of them did exactly the same! It was then that I remembered similar occasions that TC and I had experienced in India and realised that a touch of public flatulence is no big deal out here!

And so we continued with our tour, both The Geezer and me starting to flag under the hot sun, with not much shade in sight. We took a gander over to The remains of the Brazen Palace. So called because of the Copper roof that used to cover it. Though never actually used for royal engagements only monastic duties, in its day, the building allegedly consisted of nine floors and a thousand rooms and now all that remains are 1600 columns that would have supported the first floor alone.

After about four hours of walking round the site, broken up by a couple of short car rides from one ruin to the next, we had seen: The twin ponds, where the monks used to bathe, the Ruwanwelisaya (yep another long name), also known as The Great Stupa (believed to hold various remains of The Buddha), the Kujjatissa Pabbata and then parts of The Citadel including: The Royal Palace, The Mahpali Refectory (an alms Hall) outside of which was a huge trough that would be filled with rice everyday for the monks, an ancient swimming pool that was 160 metres long, (it wore me out just imagining trying to swim one length) and many more ruins. 

With plenty more available to see, we were knackered, hungry very, very hot, so we were beyond delighted when Jay suggested that we head off to our hotel for lunch as it was already 2:30!

Half an hour later the car pulled up outside The Margosa Lake Resort Hotel and we staggered inside, dropped our bags off in our room and stumbled into the dining room for a buffet lunch. I could hear TC in my head telling me how unhygienic and dangerous it was to eat the buffet that had been sat around in the heat with flies dipping in and out. I even mentioned it to my Geezer, but he shrugged - too hungry to care. So I carefully dug my spoon into each dish, making sure I scooped out from beneath the top layer of food and sat down to a delicious and well deserved lunch.

We had the rest of the afternoon to ourselves, but the hotel was out of the way of any shops and walks. Besides which, we were both ‘walked out’ for the day. The pool looked inviting and so back to our room we trudged to get changed into our swimming costumes. But by the time we’d climbed the stairs and got to the room, even the thought of getting changed seemed too much of an effort and with that we lay down to rest our weary bones, only for a minute and woke up just in time for dinner!

Tomorrow we are off to the second oldest city: Polonneruwa, we are leaving earlier in the morning so as to try to get as much done before the heat gets too unbearable. I just pray that tonight I get a decent nights sleep ... this room has a balcony and it’s just long enough to fit a certain sleeping South London Geezer! Hmmm ........

‘Ceylon’ all, we are off to Sri Lanka!

Having left left home with plenty of time to spare, we had a two hour nightmare journey on London Underground which started with a problem on the Piccadilly line after we’d been dropped off at Arnos Grove Station, this meant we had to get to the nearest over ground station and wait 15 minutes in 4 degrees of freezing cold for a train to take us to Highbury and Islington, where we had a long walk to get back onto the Underground and still had to make two changes onto rush hour crammed carriages with our two heavy bags plus hand luggage before getting to Heathrow Terminal 4 at the beginning of check in to see if we’d managed to get the upgrade my cousins boyfriend had requested, (he knows someone who knows someone). Thank goodness The Tootster was in a chivalrous mood and seemed quite happy to carry all the luggage as we ran from platform to platform, while I carried my little handbag (it was pretty full!) and yet I still struggled to keep up with him. By the time we got to check in, there were no upgrades left and we had to resign ourselves to the fact that as ever, we would be turning right on the plane NOT left.

After a rushed hour at the airport with just enough time to grab something to eat and buy a few snacks for the plane journey, (not being in business class meant that we weren’t going to be offered snacks every 45 minutes!) we rushed over to the crowded boarding gate and onto the plane where we were delayed for another 50 minutes!!

Finally, we took off and after a rather innocuous meal I fell asleep and was woken up up 8 hours later by a member of the cabin crew asking me to pull my seat back up because they were about to serve breakfast. 

I smiled at Tooting Tony, I was feeling pretty chuffed with myself for being able to sleep through the majority of the flight. He forced a smile back at me but I could see his eyes were slightly deranged whilst he sucked hard on his nicotine tablet; he hadn’t really heard what I’d said as he was busy fantasising about getting his Vape back once we’d landed.

We arrived in Colombo in 31 degrees of heat and found our driver and guide for the week. He introduced himself to us, he has very long name - as is custom in Sri Lanka. We stared at him both wondering how we could remember it. (I’ve already forgotten), smiling he said “But you can call me Jay for short”.

Jay drove us to our hotel, we were staying at The Inlak Hotel in Negombo, which was about a half hour from the airport. 

After checking in at the reception, where the receptionist told me how much she liked my hair, then asked to touch it. We were invited to take a seat and cold drinks were brought over while we waited to be told our room was ready. We waited and waited and waited. After about 15 minutes I asked Jay how long it would be and he informed us that the room had been ready since we got there. 

The room was lovely, I think even TC would’ve approved. We had a quick wash and went for a short walk along the beach, where a man selling various souvenirs told us we looked English because of my hair, then we went for another short walk along the ‘high street’ where a Tuk-Tuk driver stoped mid-conversation with a colleague to tell me he liked my hair and finally we stopped off at a charming little restaurant for a quick bite to eat, before heading back to the room where I sat down to write up some notes and woke up ten minutes later with the note pad on my lap and the pen still poised in my hand.

The alarm was set for 7:30, not necessarily an easy time to get up whilst suffering from jet lag, (the UK is five and a half hours behind Sri Lanka), plus being woken up at midnight by fireworks exploding outside, then the bass from a party next door going on until the early hours of the morn, really didn’t help. But after hitting the snooze button a couple of times we managed to drag ourselves out of bed and were washed, dressed and breakfasted in time for Jay to pick us up at 9.

Our first stop was the Elephant Orphanage in Pinnawala which was about 3 hours away by car.

Jay filled us in on a few facts en route; apparently, although the country is mainly Buddhist, Hindu and Muslim there are a large number of Catholics from when the Portuguese and then the Dutch had occupied. But this was mainly on the coastal towns. So driving through Negombo you can see plenty of large churches scattered all around, over 100. In fact, he told us that because of this, there is a well known joke:

A man gets onto a bus in Colombo to go to Negombo and asks to be dropped off at The Church, to which the driver replied: “Which one?”

Jay laughed and looked at us looking at him - we were waiting for the punchline. He said “It’s a funny joke isn’t it?” We then realised that apparently was the punchline and joined in laughing.

As we travelled along the road I pointed out the numerous Tuk-Tuks - more than I’ve seen on my previous travels. Jay told us that it was becoming a problem as too many of the young men were going straight from school to become Tuk-Tuk Drivers because it was easy to do and easy money and now the country is starting to run short of men working in other professions. In order to put a stop to this, the government is introducing a new law whereby you cannot get a Tuk-Tuk license until the age of 35 and 100% bank loans are no longer available to buy the Vehicles, the maximum is 50%. This law has not been met with much support, but in the long run it is for the best.

A short while later, I asked Jay how many letters they had in their alphabet, he told me 66! Tony asked if that was why they all had long names; in order to use as many letters as possible. Jay laughed, but like us with his joke that morning, I don’t think he really found it funny.

After a couple of hours in the car, we arrived at The Elephant Orphanage. I have to say, I was not as impressed as I thought I would be, more to the point I found it quite upsetting. Maybe it was more of an Orphanage in 1975 when the place first opened to look after 5 orphaned baby elephants. But now I suspect it is more of a show for tourists. Personally, I don’t think the elephants look very well treated. We watched them down in the river allegedly having their bath time, but a couple were chained in place while the ‘carers’ scrubbed them clean. When I asked why they had to be chained, Jay said that they were the ones that misbehaved and had to be trained. He shrugged when I said that they didn’t look happy and that they don’t need to be laid down and scrubbed, elephants are perfectly capable of bathing themselves. In fact none of the elephants looked happy at all as they were ushered around and I would urge people to avoid going there altogether. In fact, when Jay asked if we wanted to ride one of the elephants, that confirmed for me that this set up was not about the welfare of these beautiful beings but just a money maker for those involved.

I was quite happy to leave and we climbed into the car and headed off for about an hour over to Dambulla to climb the few hundred steps up to the 5 cave temples in 34 degrees of sweltering heat! But not before stopping off at The Green Curry Thai restaurant for lunch: a Thai restaurant in Sri Lanka that served Chinese food?

The Dambulla caves dates back to the days of The King Vattagamini Abhaya. He first reined in 103BC then lost his throne to a group of Tamil raiders. During his 14 years in exile he hid in these caves and once he reclaimed the throne in 89 BC he had the temples built within each cave to give thanks for their protection the rock had given him. 

The individual caves themselves are man made, building partitions between each one and each further embellished by the proceeding reigning monarchs.

The walls and ceilings of each are covered in colourful murals, Cave 5 contains statues of Buddha made from plaster and brick, whilst those found in the other temples are carved from the rock. There is too much detail within each cave for me to write about but suffice it to say, it was definitely worth the long and slow climb, (The Tootster was being very patient waiting for me as I crawled up the steps).

What was very strange was when we went into one of the caves; I could hear a really high pitch whine played in three notes over and over again, which actually started to give me a headache as the sound pierced through the cave. It was really loud and offensive - probably played to keep bats away - but my South London Geezer couldn’t hear it at all, only the clicking sound between each repeat.

We decided that I was probably a bat in my previous life ... or a dog. Well I did used to think as a child that seeing as my dad had dark hair and my mum was blonde that I had inherited my red hair from our Irish Setter?!

After our visit to the cave we headed back down the steps, avoiding all the monkeys that were hanging out for a morsel of food, or some would even pose for pictures as soon as you took your camera out.

Jay met us down by the Golden temple at the bottom of the steps, atop of which sits a 30m seated golden Buddha in all his refinery. A sign claims that he is the largest Buddha in the world, but rumour has it that’s possibly not true!

And so finally, after an interesting but tiring day we were dropped off at our Hotel for the night; The Nice Place Hotel, which it definitely was and hopefully we can get a full nights sleep with no disturbances ready for our day trip tomorrow to the ancient city of Anuradhapura ....

Goodbye North Finchley, see you in Feb!!!

It's January!!! And as many of you already know, in my book January means it's time to grab my Back Pack, get my legs waxed and head on up to the airport!

This years adventure is going to be slightly different to the previous five. You see, my little Intrepid Travel buddy 'TC', (who still wishes to remain anonymous), that you've all come to know and love, will not be my partner in crime this time around. Don't worry, we haven't fallen out, we are still the best of friends. It is just that due to her new work schedule she is unable to make the trip this time around, but fear not, as I am sure there will be future travels in which I can regale you with our fun packed excursions filled with neurosis, from various ports around the world.

"And so who is it you are travelling with this year?" I hear you ask. "And do they have the same issues with hygiene as TC does." In answer to both your questions: My fellow Intrepid Traveller for 2018 is my lovely 'South London Geezer', affectionately know as 'Tooting Tony' - or 'The Tootster' for short. OK, you can stop the sniggering; it's cause his name is Tony and he's from Tooting and not for any other reason ... though there will be copious curry consumption on this trip, so that nick name may start to seem even more appropriate! And no, he doesn't have the same 'idiosyncrasies' as TC, in fact, I am a bit concerned that without her around, distracting me with her obsessing over germs and ailments, that my own style of OCD may start to rear it's ugly head - I've already literally timetabled our laundry and packing schedules and even our meals for the last three weeks, then I re-packed The Tootster's bag as I didn't like the order he had put his clothes in, which I also insisted he did last night even though he was knackered after a full days work and cooking us dinner, despite the fact that we both have the day off today and are not leaving until late this evening.

It's just that I like to be organised and if truth be known, I may be a little nervous, due to the fact that this will be our first 'Big Trip' together.

Where are we off to? I am very excited, as I will be able to tick yet another country of my Bucket List, for in a few hours, we will be flying to ... Sri Lanka!!

Unlike in previous years, I've not booked with a large tour company, instead we had decided that we could arrange the two week trip ourselves. But after about an hour of working out which sites we wanted to see and being unable to figure out the logistics of how to get from one place to the next, I called upon the wonderful Face Book and asked for advice. Immediately, we were recommended by a friend to contact Sam, from Samarakoon Travel, based out in Sri Lanka.

The South London Geezer sent out an email and within 48 hours we had our whole itinerary, plus driver/tour guide, sorted and booked.

Sri Lanka (formerly Ceylon), is an Island found on the Indian Ocean, just south of India not too far North of the Equator. Apparently Marco Polo described it as 'The finest Island of it's size' and even the early Arab Traders gave it the name 'Serendib' from which the word 'Serendipity' originates. With a population of 21 million people, consisting of various ethnic and religious groups, the two largest being Buddhist and Hindu Tamil, I will no doubt as ever, feel 'Templed out' by the end of the trip. But I am so excited about all the wondrous sites we are going to see, beginning with the Elephant Orphanage on Sunday, followed by The Ancient city of Anuradhapura.

I should at this point apologise for not finishing my blog last year when TC and I travelled to Myanmar. It's not a great excuse, but I just got so far behind with it, particularly as I was only able to write it during certain times of the evening when TC wouldn't be woken by the light from my ipad, the sound of my fingers tapping on the screen or possibly my breathing. In fact, she asked me last week if I was still going to write my travel blog even though she wasn't going to be with me this time around. I told her that I did intend to. To which she replied: 'Good, but you know it won't be as funny'.

And so, until this years adventure begins, I will bid you "Ayubowan". 

Pagoda free day!

It's day nine of our trip! We are over halfway through and today is going to be the most challenging; well for me anyway, because it involves a six hour trek through the hills. Now most people who know me will also know that long walks really aren't my forte - actually any kind of exercise to be precise! And those of you that read my blog (uncompleted) from last years trip to The Philippines, will also know that my legs caused me so much pain after all that trekking, I couldn't even climb up or down a flight of stairs - though admittedly that was the result from climbing rice terraces cut into the side of mountains and a volcano! 

This year was only going to involve a three hour walk one way, followed by lunch in one of the villages, followed by a two hour walk back. The only incentive(s) for me was the stunning scenery we were going to see and the hope that I would shift some of the weight that was desperately clinging on from Christmas time. Oh and the fact that a small truck with 'comfy seats' was going to be following us should anyone need it. 

TC was still fretting about her foot that she kept telling everyone she had broken earlier that year and I wasn't in the mood to get into yet another discussion with her over the fact that it was actually diagnosed as a fracture and yes there is a difference and that after seven months of healing; which included seven days of walking around numerous pagodas last week, it would be fine. I was almost on the verge of reminding her that I'd had abdominal surgery eight months before to have two fibroids removed; one the size of a side plate and the other the size of a coke can and I was managing fine, but I had to remind myself it wasn't a competition but a relaxing holiday where we could leave all our troubles and anxieties behind and just enjoy our once in a life time experience. So I pulled on my knee supports, packed my anti-inflammatories and set off with the others. 

To be honest it really wasn't as bad as I thought. We were blessed with perfect weather; blue skies, sunshine and a temperature just right for walking in. According to our tour company Exodus, we were to be walking along "centuries old trading routes" and the sights lived up to all expectations: stunning! We passed by fields of various crops, Water Buffalo posed for our pictures, a couple of locals were out looking for fallen sheets of bamboo to take home and make into paper and the like. It was certainly the ideal setting in which to forget about dark and gloomy London in the winter. 

As promised, we stopped off in a village for our lunch. The villagers were welcoming and laid on a massive spread of food for us. TC popped off to the loo and came back with an expression on her face that made me thankful that my stomach was feeling so much better! She sat down next to me and worked her way through a half a bottle of hand gel while Nicole tried on the local traditional dress which included two types of headdresses. One to be worn by the single woman and one more flamboyant one worn by a married woman. We asked if there were two styles of outfits for men to wear which would announce their marital status, low and behold the answer was 'no'! Bloody typical! Personally I think the married men should be forced into wearing a 'mankini' and preferably in fluorescent green!

After a delicious lunch, we headed outside and gathered together where Kay briefed us on the rest of the walk back to the hotel. As per usual we did get a bit of a telling off with a: "Hello! Hello. I need to talk to you. I want you all to listen to me. I will say this only once. (No she had never watched 'allo, 'allo) but if you don't want to listen to me that is fine you can stand over there". And she would point to a spot a safe distance away. 

I decided that I would quite happily get the truck back to our hotel. My knees were starting to hurt but I wasn't sure if that was because by this point the knee supports were cutting off the blood flow to my legs. And I didn't feel such a wuss because Bob (the Canadian) had decided he was going to get the truck back too.

And so we bid our farewells to the family that gave us food and shelter, TC saw a couple of men sat on the wall staring at us and shouted 'Chezooba' (Burmese for thank you) as she rubbed her belly. They looked back at her bemused; it turned out they were complete strangers, they had nothing to do with our group. TC tried to hide her embarrassment and her concerns when we teased her that the gesture for a woman rubbing her belly could possibly have translated to them as 'Thank you I want your babies' and suggested she quickly throw on the marriage turban and they'd leave her alone. 

Bob and I climbed on board the truck with Kay and headed along the bumpy road for an hours drive back to the hotel. By the time I returned to the room I'd started sneezing and by the time TC returned a short while later I was feeling like crap. So I decided to stay in that night and not join the others for dinner.

It turned out they all had a good time, especially Kay who said she'd drunk too much green tea (she doesn't drink alcohol) and was on a caffeine high all night. Apparently she was laughing and giggling with the others, she had finally let her hair down and was turning over a new leaf. It was time to say goodbye to 'Headmistress' Kay. 

Overall I'd say we had a great day, lovely vistas, lovely people and lovely food ... and not a Pagoda in sight!

Way up in the hills ...

Last night was the best nights sleep! Finally! We were off at 8am on a six hour coach ride to Kalaw and my stomach was feeling decidedly better! 

Kalaw is a former British Hill station found in the largest of Myanmars seven states; The Shan State.

After the decline and fall of Bagan in the 14th Century, smaller Kingdoms started to compete for power. There were The Mon Territories, Arakan, Ava and the Shan States. The Shan are Myanmars second largest Ethnic group, living mainly in the east of the country as well as just over the border with Thailand and Laos. Connected with The Thai people, Shan is actually a derivative of the word Siam.

The largest state they may be, but vast areas are off bounds to tourists due to the continued civil unrest between The State Army and the National Government - which has gone on for decades. And after TC's and my last 'dalliance' with 'civil unrest' between The Keralans and The Tamils when we were travelling across the border in Southern India six years ago, (that's a long scroll back in my blog!), we were happy to have a more 'tranquil' trip this time.

Kalaw has a high altitude of 1320 meters above sea level and I was not looking forward to the breathlessness, light headedness or nose bleeds that I experienced three years ago, when TC and I visited Mexico City. As per usual we were prepared for any long coach trips and I'd downloaded a ten part TV drama onto my iPad for us to pass the time. This years choice was 'The Affair'. (Those that have followed my blog in the past will know about this tradition of TC's and mine). 

And so we settled down in our seats, I took my travel sickness pills as that would give us an approximate two hour window  to watch a couple of episodes before the tiredness kicked in and I slept - Kay had warned us that the final part of our drive was going to be driving along very windy, narrow hairpin bends and the air con would have to be switched off in order to give the engine full power to get us up to the Hill Station! Something I did not want to see, let alone get travel sickness from!

Ear phones in, snacks at the ready and I hit play, only to find that I hadn't actually pressed the download button after buying the series off of Amazon in the UK! This meant the only way to watch would be to stream it, which was not possible given the cost of roaming charges or to wait until we found somewhere with a decent wifi connection and download it, which was practically impossible to find. 

I could see that TC was disappointed (as was I) and even the snacks alone weren't going to satisfy her on this long coach journey. So all I can say is "Thank goodness for BBC iPlayer!" Luckily I had downloaded a few films from our National TV station before we left and only one was remaining on my iPad!  

The film was called 'Jump', a gripping story set in Northern Ireland and one we were both glued to from beginning to end after which my travel sickness tablets kicked in and I slept through to the end of the drive, only to wake up at the end and find TC looking rather green around the gills from the hairpin drive.

We reached The Pine Hills Resort Hotel and were greeted by the lovely friendly staff. What an amazing hotel, very colonial in style and on beautiful grounds. There was an outdoor heated swimming pool and a gym (forget that! I'm on holiday) and a spa!

With an afternoon of free time and no pagodas, TC and I had a quick snack and then I treated myself to an hour and a half aromatherapy massage while my little travel buddy went for a swim in the pool. 

The massage was great! My therapist was called Noo Noo, (I don't know what day of the week that meant she was born on but I had to stop the teenager part of my brain kicking in and sniggering as 'Noonoo' was in fact one of the 'slang' words we used to use as kids in reference to a lady's 'front bottom' - and yes that was the other one!).

Anyway, the massage was great, unlike massages I've had in the past on my trips, that have been so painful to the point of torture that I would have instantly revealed where I'd hidden my passport. And I returned to our hotel room feeling thoroughly relaxed to find TC fretting about whether or not she had just brought back her ear infection by swimming in the pool!

That evening we all went to a local Nepalese restaurant for dinner, then it was back to the hotel where believe it or not we had to put the heating on in the room, as the temperature being so high up in the hills, had dropped drastically after sunset. Though admittedly it was not as low as -4, which my North London Chappie had told me earlier that day, everyone was suffering through back home.

And so TC and I climbed into our respective beds and went to sleep feeling very smug and snug in our 17 degrees of cold.

Mingus, Monks and Malicious Murmurings!

We had now reached day seven of our trip and this morning we had to be up and ready to leave by 5:45am to watch the sunrise from U-Bein Bridge. Six days in Southern Asia and so far everything seemed to be going well and then on the seventh day ... my stomach decided it was time to play up! 

Having experienced severe 'Delhi Belly' back in India 6 years ago; with the memory of the whole experience etched forever in my brain (and in my blog!),  I was desperately trying not to panic after my third trip to the loo between the alarm going off at 5:15 and the coach departure. And I was determined not to miss out on the day's events. But to be honest, the idea of spending an afternoon on a boat was probably not the best thing to be doing.

However, I decided it was mind over matter and my mind was all geared up to say that it didn't matter. So I made it onto the coach and we headed for the bridge.

The U-Bein is found in the town of Amarapura and stretches across Lake Taungthaman (named after an Ogre who arrived in Amarapura in pursuit of Buddha - this one had no intention of cutting off his breasts for him) and is recorded as the worlds longest teak footbridge at just over 3,936,000 feet (1200 meters to be precise), when in 1859 the Mayor U Bein of Amarapura arranged for the bridge to be built from the teak support columns left behind from the palace, after it had been moved to Mandalay. 

I thought it would take ages to walk the full length of the long bridge and back again, but it really didn't seem that bad as I strolled along chatting to Jane and Derek; one of the English couples in our group, but sadly it was rather overcast that morning so there wasn't much of a dawn horizon to see, but there were plenty of passing monks in their dawn coloured robes on their way to and from The Maha Gandayon Kyaung (monastery).

A short break back to the hotel for a quick breakfast (and a quick loo break) and then we headed off to our awaiting boat for an afternoon on The Ayeyarwady River.

The boat itself was like a little barge, there was covered seating up top and a big space down below - and luckily a flushable toilet! 

First challenge was to climb on board, my balance isn't great at the best of times and it didn't really help that we had to walk along a narrow plank with a temporary hand rail which consisted of a wooden pole held at either end by one of the men operating the boat. 

I wobbled but luckily I didn't fall, nor did anyone and we all settled upstairs for the first part of the trip quietly heading along the river, looking at more pagodas along the shore ... whilst I tried to ignore the gurgling in my belly!

To be honest, I don't remember too much of the day as I was feeling quite rough.  I remember stopping off in Sagaing to watch the Monks procession as they lined up and headed into the monastery to have their lunch - everything they receive is from donations from family and locals. They line up in order of age/experience and head into the vast dining room, passing by a group of locals who would hand them each a pad and pen donated that day. With regard to food and any other donations, if any supplies run out before the end of the procession, then those monks go without. Which is quite hard anyway as all The Buddhist monks over here are not allowed to eat any solid food after midday anyway?!

As each monk approached the steps of the dining hall, they removed their brown sandals and left them neatly lined up on the steps outside. So it was quite impressive to watch as each monk left after their meal of rice and fish,  they knew exactly which pair of sandals was theirs.

As we went up Sagaing Hill we stopped off to visit 'Sone Oo Pone Nya Shin Paya (yes another pagoda). I could just about appreciate the beauty of it, my stomach was feeling better but my brain was starting to merge all pagodas together. 

Close by is Umin Thounzeh, known for its curved chamber which houses 43 seated Buddhas and two standing ones. Grateful for the shade we stepped into the cool tiled chamber to take a look, it was quite beautiful though maybe slightly monotonous with one Buddha after the other and so on and so forth.

We returned to the boat and eagerly climbed on board ready for lunch. There was so much food, it was delicious but I was cautious to eat it for medical reasons of course, but also I was starting to feel a bit gluttonous having watched the monks procession and seen the small amount of food they live off of.

After lunch we carried on up the Ayeyarwady River and stepped off in Mingun; a small village that holds big history thanks to the late King Bodawpaya who in 1790 ordered the construction of an enormous .... yes you guessed it ... Pagoda! It was so enormous that by the time Bodawpaya died 29 years later, the only part that had been finished was the lower portion. As described in my guide book: "Quite possibly the largest pile of bricks in the world". Had it been finished, the Pagoda would have been close to 150m high. But even so, it is still a huge tourist attraction, even more so by the mere fact that it had been damaged by two earthquakes in 1819 and 2012.

By this point I felt as though an earthquake was about to erupt in my stomach. Which in itself made me feel panicked bcause standing amongst the market stalls outside a semi built Pagoda on the banks of the Ayeyarwady river with various sellers shouting "Madam! Longhy?" was not the ideal place to give into the needs of my digestive system. And so I sat down at one of the tables under cover and held on tight, in deep discomfort, smiling through my gritted teeth at my fellow group members as they went off to see The Largest ringable Bell (9 tonnes) in the world and The White temple (oh dear I missed seeing another Pagoda!).

Once they'd disappeared I crossed my arms on the table, laid my head down on them and managed a little sleep. By the time I woke up, I was feeling slightly better and waited as I organised my photos on my phone (mainly as a distraction) until my group returned a short while later.

Derek and Jane were the first back and walked me back to the boat. Luckily Derek carried a couple of anti spasm tablets around with him that he'd given me earlier and they had started to kick in. So I managed to return to my seat on the boat and enjoy the ride back down the river with ease.

That evening back at the hotel I had a much needed night in alone while TC went out for a slap up meal with the rest of the group.