Monywa, Myanmar

The overnight bus from Lashio to Monywa (6,000 Kyat) was ridiculous! We stopped at a usual restaurant at midnight and everyone deserted the bus to get some food. Half an hour passed and most people had finished eating and were watching some bad Burmese karaoke TV. By 1am a few people got back on the bus and went to sleep, I couldn't sleep. At 1:30am I had a look for the driver but couldn't find him anywhere. 2am came and I tried to ask people what was happening but no-one could explain what was happening, or if they even cared! 3am came and went - no driver still. People either eating again, watching TV or sleeping on the bus. I tried to get some sleep but still couldn't. I was bored of this restaurant now, and bored of not being able to sleep so I sat outside, watching other coaches come and go. 4am - still nothing. It wasn't until 5am when the driver appeared from nowhere, started the engine and sounded the horn several times like he'd been waiting for us all along!! Everyone got on without question and off we went. I still, to this day, have no idea what happened there. I've since explained it to people I'd met and they said it was odd, but maybe the driver was sleeping.

Now I had to catch a local bus to get into Monywa town. With 30 minutes to go a Burmese girl got on and sat next to me. She immediately put her head on my shoulder and seemed to sleep. Wired from lack of sleep and hyper-aware of all the locals that had now turned around to look I smiled and looked out of the window, accepting that I was now a headrest - although I can't imagine my bony shoulder being particularly comfortable. At journeys end the girl woke up on cue, smiled at me and left the bus. I asked a tuk-tuk driver to take me to the cheapest place in town. I knew there weren't many options, few tourists come here. He took me to hotel Shwe Taung Tarn which was a lofty $13 a night for a big double room with balcony overlooking a smelly, man-made, mosquito infested swamp!

My own swamp

Bags dumped I wanted a look around and left the hotel. Within one minute a local student came up to me on his motorbike and asked if we might have some food together so he can learn about England and practice his English. His name is Zeya and took me to a delicious local noodle joint. He wanted to know everything about anything that was happening in England, especially business and banking - the two things I'd rather forget about when travelling! He was fully preparing for the coming fortunes of Myanmar.

After another sleepless night, this time from being a mosquitos pincushion. Zeya picked me up on his bike and we drove out to the Moenyinsambuddhae temple, containing no less than 600,000 Buddhas of various sizes. Visitors can replace broken or stolen images with newly cast ones for 200 Kyat - I chose one and chose a nice place to put him.

1..2..3..4..5..6..7.. (five years later) ..599,999... 600,000! Yep, you're right.

My Buddha

Norris McWhirter would be proud as we then rode past the worlds largest reclining Buddha and up to the worlds largest standing Buddha (470ft high!) - you can see it from a LONG way away! Inside the standing Buddha is pretty much a thirty-storey building, containing seven levels of Buddhist hell, some earthly levels, some heavenly levels then, in the head, there's Nirvana - but ironically you can't go there as it's not complete. Each level contains paintings related to that scene and are designed to teach lessons of life. The hell paintings are gruesome and fascinating; watching families tell their kids the stories behind the picture maybe even more fascinating.

...rumble...

...clang...clang...

...doof...doof...

...Sssssss...

Phayao, Thailand

We get on a ridiculously groovy bus in Chiang Rai and make the pleasant 5 hour journey to Phayao. I have my head hanging out of the window like a dog for most of the journey so my face feels like I've had plastic surgery on arrival. Looking for accommodation we bump into a buxom happy lady selling nicely hand painted bookmarks and postcards. She helps us out loads (to the point of us following her like sheep while she motorcycles in front) so we buy a couple of thing from her to say thanks. Phayao is nearly off the tourist radar so there are no guest houses or dorm's. What is does have though is (one) concrete monster of a hotel (say prison) with bags of character. It's called Tharn Thong and I suspect that this may be the only place to stay here. Walking into reception is like going back in time with 80's wood styling and furnishings abound and colours to match. The absolute highlight must be the switchboard. I won't describe it so look at the picture down the page - epic - I would like one in my home. The receptionists , who seem a little bewildered that we're there, offer us a clean and functional room for a bargain 170 Baht. It has the essential feature in the old style analogue phone that connects to the epic switchboard.

I love to mooch about and Phayao is amazing for this, almost perfect. There's lots to see in every day things. We thought about hiring a bike from the hotel but they all had punctures and no pump so we stroll off in a random direction. There's a group of local men gathered and a pretty Thai girl in a red and white outfit shouting down a microphone; turns out she's selling power tools. Around the corner there's a little man making what look like "chromozones" in what appears to be his living room. His wife is also happily tidying in the background so we say hi and grab a bag - and they're delicious.

There's lots of Wat's here, in various states of repair, all un-touristic, with monks slowly going about their business. Inside they're nothing special at all with old sofas pushed around the edges; I like this, it gives them a homely feel. The quiet roads are lined with spacious wooden houses with little gardens and driveways, there's an obvious pride in the town.

Panel from a Wat - with mosaic tiles missing

Wat Sri Khom Kham is a curious place. Slightly out of the town on the main road. Inside the main building is a giant sitting Buddha with a lap width of 14 meters. Around the edge are small electronic Buddha's in glass boxes, all in the different poses depending on what you want to pray for. You pop a coin in and something is shouted at you. We had a look around the back at the monastery where the young monks were pretending martial arts with brooms; until Anna walks past and they stop and giggle to each other. Further round there's a Buddhist depiction of hell (Naraka) in sculptures. I've not seen anything quite like this, containing endless suffering (until rebirth) and nudity in equal measures.

With some giant dark clouds approaching we head back and get to the lake in time to shelter under some trees. The lake is the largest freshwater lake in the north and has a sunken temple in the middle. We didn't visit it but you can pay a local to take you out in his rowing boat (motorboats not allowed). I'm not sure how you would actually see the temple from the surface but you can see it on a Google earth satellite image. With the rain now coming through the trees we run to a bandstand, populated by someone who's been removing some speakers from a huge stage with the picture of the king on it. I nip to a little stall and grab 3 Changs for us to wait the rain out. Questioning him wasn't easy, he spoke broken English, but Anna reported that he'd blurted fluent English when I went to get the beers!? (I'll check with her and update). The weather cleared and we saw a large fire in the distance and also the first other westerner we'd seen, with his Thai girlfriend. 

Long live the king

Serpent on the lake

Post-storm sunset

We'd read about a falang pizza place on wikitravel and my cheese craving was driving us to find it. It took 20 minutes (with some pictures of the St. Georges cross (Jubilee?) drains) then it melted into view: brick oven pizza! My mouth was already salivating by the time the friendly waitress from a southern US states greets us and we quickly order a half-and-half. One half being a cheese extravaganza and the other a meaty pepperoni. No beer is sold here and we ask if we can grab one from a shop and drink it at the table. We get a flat no. The pizza is tasty and is munched in a few minutes (I greedily had Anna's last slice). It contained genuine mozzarella and other "real" cheeses (it's been a while for me). My only preference is that I would like a thin or thick crust choice ;) About an hour later I get the very satisfied feeling of chronic indigestion and the cheese-sweats. Bliss. I shall be updating the wikitravel entry with some of this information when I get a moment.