This post covers our experience cycling across Myanmar in February. Our route took us from the Indo-Myanmar land border of Moreh-Tamu, travelling east through Bagan, Inle, Yangon and Hpa-An to Mae Sot, Thailand.

SUMMARY

After a second round of cycling in India, Myanmar was a relaxed and extremely welcoming country. The standard 28-day visa meant we had to crack the whip to make it across the country in time. The roads are pretty steep in parts and at this time of year the humidity is extremely high. It is technically illegal to wild camp or for locals to host foreigners, however these laws are far more relaxed and so it is possible. We had no trouble camping (in secluded spots) and most monasteries will welcome you in with open arms. Beer is available EVERYWHERE and the fresh salads served are delicious (tea leaf being a favourite). The phrase “tha ta lo” (no life) comes in handy if you’re vegetarian.

STORY

A number of cycle tourers we had spoken to had chosen to skip Myanmar. Reasons ranged from uncertainty whether the borders were open to foreigners or a moral stance against the military government. After our flight to Delhi from Kazakstan, we were determined to cycle to Singapore without the need for another flight and so we decided to make use of the Moreh-Tamu border crossing which had only recently opened. It can certainly be said that the Burmese government is at the ‘not very good’ end of the scale and that tourism is indirectly funding the ongoing genocide in parts of the country.

Passing through the final checkpoint on the Indian side we had one final weird selfie request. The army guards took photos of Emil, Beck and I standing with our bikes on the pretence it was required for their immigration records. Their story would’ve been more believable had the guards not used their own smartphones and queued for their individual shot with us.

*Entering Myanmar (via the wrong gate)…*

Moving on we crossed the bridge to Myanmar, adamant we had all documents in order. We were immediately turned on our heels and directed back to the hidden Indian immigration office to get our exit stamp. Solid proof the previous army guards’ photos were definitely pointless and had nothing to do with immigration. On the second attempt to enter Myanmar we had to provide a copy of our e-visa and passports due to there being a power cut. The border guard offered the use of his motorbike to ride into the nearest town to find a photo copier. Before I knew it I was on the back of the bike with a stranger riding into town. The stranger was a local man in the same administrative predicament as us but trying to leave the country. I had a nice chat with the back of his head as we rode the 5km into Tamu. He told me he was heading to India for a doctors appointment - Burmese doctors aren’t up the scratch apparently - and that tourism in the last decade had helped transform the country for the better. So, good to hear our presence would benefit the future of locals as much as the government's war fund.

Everything finally in order, we pressed on. I was struck by the reception from locals flanking the road shouting ‘hello’ and ‘welcome to Myanmar’- a level of openness and friendlessness on par with our experience in Tajikistan. The eagerness to help and friendliness of the immigration officer was at odds with the deeply suspicious government officials we’d been told to expect in the country. These same officials would move you on at night into a ‘tourist-designated’ hotel if found wild camping or staying with a local, we were told. We were again surprised, then, when a local monk welcome us, along with three other cyclists, to stay in the monastery that night. He even prepared a huge food spread and let us sleep in one of the classrooms. An amazing welcome to the country.

Our planned route across Myanmar was fairly direct, linking Bagan and Lake Inle. We only had a 28-day visa and 1500km to cover which in hindsight seemed doable but we weren’t sure of the road quality and wanted a few rest days. The first few days were flat and fast, covering good ground on the newly built India-Myanmar Friendship Road. We said goodbye to Emil for what we thought would surely be the final time as he split to head to Mandalay. The presence of Christianity faded, becoming more Buddhist as we headed deeper into the country. Food stops were slightly trickier with fewer people speaking English but we soon found our staple - tea leaf salad and rice. We camped off the side of the road without issue, only being spotted once but luckily weren’t asked to move on to a hotel.

The tameness of the first few days ended when we hit the hills up to Kyaw. As the roads are built directly up the slope, we had to make our own switchbacks by weaving back and forth, brutal in the heat. At the top you could see the vast, flat plain in the middle of the country opening out in front of us. This is where the majority of the large towns and cities are built, including Bagan which was to be our first rest.

Bagan was once the seat of the Bagan dynasty. Strategically located on the banks of the Ayeyarwady River, the empire expanded and exerted control by irrigating the flat plains of central Burma for farming. From the 11th Century onwards kings, ministers and officials of the empire constructed Buddhist pagodas. At its peak there were around 10,000 but only 2,000 remain today in various states of decay. We found a cheap hotel located in New Bagan - a purpose built tourist town. The hotel even had a pool which satisfied Beck’s criteria as, during the last few sweaty days climbing, she hadn’t shut up about the need for a poolside Pina Colada. Wish granted.

The Bagan area is vast and best navigated by the electric scooters on hire everywhere. The ticketing system to get into the Bagan area itself is vague at best and relies largely on trust as there’s no boundary fence. We managed to witness a sunrise and two amazing sunsets during our time there. Previously tourists were free to climb the internal steps of the larger pagodas to get a view but these have all recently been locked due to damage, and some tourists falling and braining themselves. This move was a bit counter-intuitive since now tourists, including us, climb on the outside of the pagodas to get a view. It felt pretty wrong climbing on a 1000-year-old monument. You can see where bricks and chunks have been pulled off while climbing. However, the views at the top are simply too tempting for most and the area is simply too large to police.

We hadn’t really planned on seeing a great deal in-between Bagan and our next point of interest, Lake Inle. We were surprised to stumble on the hill station of Kalaw. A world away from the local villages we’d been riding through. It was amazing how similar this British format felt to the hill stations we’d seen in India.

Lake Inle is probably the second most visited attraction in Myanmar. We hit the jackpot again with a cheap hotel with a pool. The main attraction here though was obviously the lake. For £5 we got a private boat to drive us around the lake for an entire day. The lake supports a whole community living in stilt houses, set around workshops making traditional crafts. Even I nearly bought something, a lotus-silk scarf to be precise, until I realised it was $300.

Back in the town we had one of the most bizarre restaurant experiences of the whole trip. The restaurant generally had traditional Myanmar cuisine but was Eminem themed. The walls were plastered with Eminem posters and Eminem is constantly being played, obviously. The bandanna-wearing owner came out and put on a full ‘wigger’ display complete with hand gestures, when taking the order. I couldn’t quite work out whether he was a very enthusiastic fan or taking the piss.

Our plan was to head straight for the Tacheleik border crossing, the most northern crossing into Thailand. Everything I’d read online said the crossing was open, which was true, however we then learnt that the road leading to the border crossing is off limits to foreigners due to warring armed tribes in the area. This somewhat scuppered our plans as the next border crossing was 700km further south. With a bit of thinking we decided to treat this as a blessing in disguise as we’d get to see more of the country before our visa expired. Our new plan was to head back over the hills to visit the new official capital Naypyitaw, get a coach to Yangon to save precious visa days, and then head to the popular Mae Sot border crossing via Hpa-An and into Thailand.

*Meeting Tho Hi, a Burmese cycle tourer*

The hills crossing west towards Naypyidaw were again brutally steep, made worse by the fact Beck fell ill again. At the end of one particularly hard day we stumbled on some hot springs at the bottom of a valley - a relaxing way to end a day. Around the spring were some guests lodges but were out of our price range and we weren’t allowed to camp nearby. We headed back out to the road to a nearest village where some farmers agreed we could set the tent up under one of the stilt houses. This was good timing as just as we finished setting up, a huge tropical storm whipped over the area.

Nothing prepares you for quite how bizarre Naypyidaw is. A purpose-built capital complete with everything, including housing, hotels, highways. There’s just one thing missing: people. We stayed in a huge Vegas-style hotel (named Vegas Hotel) and were two of four guests in the entire place. While here we had to get a shot of the infamous 20-lane highway. On the way we rode past many half built houses and apartment blocks, which are colour-coded roofs to signify the jobs of the residents. The highway runs alongside the parliament complex and is apparently designed so excessively to allow it to double up as a runway for military jets. We wanted our shot riding down the centre but our fun was halted by an enthusiastic policeman. Moments later a convoy came rolling down, possibly containing the Myanmar president, taking itself very seriously. The police motorbikes comically ride in front blaring whistles and blocking the junctions ahead. Only there weren’t any cars there to block.

Generally the government officials weren’t too bothered about tourists snooping around the city. However, a few weeks later we heard about a cycle tourer who spent a month in jail for using a drone over the city.

Our next stop was Yangon. Our coach unexpectantly dropped us off 15 miles from the centre at the start of rush hour. We had to do a rather hairy, lightless weave through the traffic on our bikes after the sun went down. Yangon was ultra modern in comparison to the rest of Myanmar, with high-rise towers, shopping malls and local hipsters.

We spent a few days resting and eating but also got the chance to meet some people we knew from home. When asked what it was like living and working to there, interestingly they all made the same point; the Burmese are incredibly trustworthy people due to the collectivist mindset of the country. This rang true with us. Most recently, for example, we were slightly nervous when our downtown guesthouse insisted we kept the bikes in the street, but the staff and local stall sellers kept an eye on them day and night. Do that in the UK and they’d be gone in five minutes.

Hpa-An (pronounced ‘pa-an’) was our final stop before crossing into Thailand. The few days between Yangon and Hpa An were very hot and mostly uneventful, save for a restaurant experience in Bago where we may or may not have eaten dog (there were lots of covered caged dogs at the back of the restaurant). Arriving into Hpa-An we met up with Emil yet again. When we hugged it out 2 weeks previously he surely thought he wouldn’t see us again. Now he truly must have been sick at the sight of us.

Hpa-An town was pleasant enough but the surrounding limestone cliffs topped with pagodas surrounded by rice fields were the main event here. Everything was a bit too spread out for bicycles so we rented motorbikes for the day to go between the cliffs and buddhist caves. That evening we were treated to a bat spectacle, where many many bats exit the cave at dusk to feed at night. They probably do this of their own accord but locals accelerate the process by beating sticks on plastic tubs to entice them out. They also sweep the ground which has the effect of the bats jerking upwards as they are so sensitive to the surrounding noises (see video to make sense of this). In the distance you could see shifting swarms of bats move over the Than Lwin bridge. We couldn’t find any official figures of bat numbers, but there were estimates from the observing crowd ranging from 10,000 to 3 million. Somewhere between these estimates is probably correct.

The next morning we tried to watch sunrise from one of the cliff tops - known as Taung Wine mountain - about 15km away. We woke up on time but failed to get anywhere near the cliff, orienteering through a farmers field on our motorbike in the dark, following the wrong directions from Maps.me. We ended up watching sunrise - with our tails between our legs - from the hotel rooftop. We were determined to find the damned mountain, so that evening we jumped back on the motorbike and with the help of a few locals we made it. Many steps later we got to the top and enjoyed a pretty spectacular sunset.

After cycling the final steep stretch to the border, we said goodbye to Emil in Myawaddy, the border town on the Burmese side of the border. This truly was the last time we’d bump into him as he was heading directly south to Indonesia and we were heading east for Laos and Vietnam. We were very happy that we got to cycle parts of central Asia, India, Nepal and Myanmar together, and equally some of the most random experiences to date.

Myanmar has been one of the most pleasant surprises of the trip. A country straining at the leash to be modern, which serves as a gentle transition between the madness of India and the relative order of south-east Asia, but for now one that remains unspoiled. We are certain we’ll be back one day, this time to chill on the beaches and minus the bikes…M

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