Today I was awoken not by the sound of an alarm, not by other tourists’ noises, nor by comings and goings outside. Instead, I woke up with the sunlight and was incredibly excited, for today I was going to Myanmar.

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I got up and immediately left the hotel to take a troll around Mae Sot. It’s a small town, not very touristy, but incredibly cheap. For 40 baht (£1) I breakfasted on noodles and soup before going to 7-11 for some journey snacks. At 9AM exactly I headed to the exchange and got myself some Burmese kyat and USD (a “back-up” of sorts, but one which apparently is used in Myanmar).

Already the sun was my enemy, sweat dripping from my hair I returned to the hostel to take what I’d hoped to be a warm and refreshing shower. I was bitterly disappointed. The shower was cold and I could only deal with a few seconds under the water before giving up. Don’t worry, I washed my face thoroughly and used enough soap to not smell too bad.

From the hotel I took a cab to the Burmese border. This wasn’t the strangest border crossing I’ve ever taken. That would be travelling by boat into Bolivia from Peru, re-crossing the border back to Peru in order to officialy leave, before turning around and entering Bolivia officially.

As I walked to the Thai immigration I saw several long queues and many counters worrying me that I’d have to visit each and every one of them. I was in luck though and was sent to counter 9: FOREIGNERS. After a short wait I approached the border guard and handed over my passport. He reminded me of the protagonist of the dystopian computer game “Papers, Please” (a game well worth checking out for gamers and non-gamers alike). Sullenly he stamped my passport and I was free to leave Thailand.

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The distance between Thai and Burmese immigration can’t have been more than two hundred metres, but this didn’t stop me feeling like I’d taken another shower. With my two backpacks and the sun stronger than ever, I was sweating after only a few steps.

Crossing over, I had the time to record an Instagram live post (follow me if you like: You’ll be able to see a few more places I’m visiting!) One of the things that rocked me were the beggars on the bridge. I’m not sure which side they had come from, but there were several women with their children sat on the path. I was surprised that neither the Thai nor Burmese authorities dealt with them.

In the distance, I saw the respite I call ‘shade’ and only a little further than that, the Burmese immigration. The gentleman who helped me here was a great introdution to Myanmar. Smiling, with simple English and blood stained teeth from chewing betel quid, he not only helped me fill in my immigration form, but he taught me how to say thank you, but much like in Thailand, after some research, I fear I may have been saying it wrong!

“Where are you going?” The first words I heard once I was in Myanmar. Usually, this would be a situation I’d walk away in. Touts standing at the border preying on tourists’ ignorance, overcharging them taxis. Having done my research though, I knew this was not a scam and in fact there was one big boss of the taxis at the border.

“Hpa-An”

“Okay. Shared taxi. 300 baht”

“Okay”

He helped me get my luggage in the back of the taxi, then told me to wait in a teahouse. Since my time in India, I’d stuck to coffee, but I wanted to try Burmese chai and it was quite nice. More bitter than the Indian variant, but less spicy, it was a tasty treat and a great way to relax after the sweltering border crossing. If you’re wondering why I took a hot drink in such weather, I was following my mum’s advice: “A hot drink cools you down” she’d said when I’d come home this summer.

In the teahouse, I met Iris, a Dutch woman who was also taking the taxi to Hpa-An. As we waited, she educated me a little on Myanmar and the customs here. Iris was conducting some research in Hpa-An and was at the border to refresh her visa.

After what felt like an hour, we were summoned to the taxi where we were made to wait for another 15 minutes with no explanation as to why. Eventually we left, only to circle around and come back to the starting spot, all the while our driver shouting “Hpa-An” from the window, hoping to find someone to take the final seat. With no takers, he reluctantly drove for the main road, but nonetheless he kept shouting “Hpa-An” for most of the rest of the trip.

OH – and right now a moment of genuine annoyance. He couldn’t decide between the air con or the window, often choosing the wrong one at the wrong time, so I was either freezing or boiling. Yeah…

The trip itself was stunning. At first, the scenery reminded me of Macedonia (or FYROM or Northern Macedonia – it’s in a complicated stage right now) with lush greenery dwarfed by mountains and cliff faces. Before long though, the lands turned flat. I wish I could speak as positively about the roads, which were bumpy, undulating and unpredictable. When we took a short comfort break for lunch, Iris and I spoke again, but otherwise the journey passed by quite uneventfully.

On arrival in Hpa-An I did two things. Firstly, I got a SIM card (a must have for any backpacker these days it seems) and secondly I ate. I’d heard mixed reviews on Burmese food, that it was too oily. I can’t say it was super tasty, but I enjoyed it. For the rest of the day, I relaxed, ready to explore Hpa-An the following day.

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