The journey from Bagan to Hsi-Paw was long and for the most part very dull. The salient facts are these:

• We left at midday and rode a tuk tuk to a bus waiting for us outside the city.
• We’d expected an air-conditioned bus as we normally had in Asia. Therefore, we dressed up in trousers and jumpers.
• It was not an air conditioned bus.
• There were four seats per row, with a fold-out seat that could appear in the aisle. These extra seats were all used
• We arrived late, at 01:15 AM.
• Hsi-Paw was a lot colder than Bagan.   

   

We awoke early, still sleepy, unsure whether it was right to go trekking after the horrifically long 14 hour bus journey.

The room was stuffy and poorly ventilated, but at least had comfortable beds. Far easier to sleep on than the bus seats.

We made our way to Mr.Bike’s office in Hsi-Paw, fortunately only a stone’s throw away from the accommodation.

   

“Hello!” The man was all smiles, unlike us suffering from the early start.

“Hi, I’m Tom. We spoke yesterday on Facebook.” Knowing that we’d arrive so late, I’d gathered the necessary information in advance. The one concern that remained was my shoes, which had caused me to slip over in Manali, requiring me to have a tetanus injection and take some antibiotics.

“YES YES!” He looked down at my feet. “Ahh….” I don’t like the sound of that….does he even have any shoes my size? He entered a small room the corner of the office, only to return with a pair of camouflage sneakers, well-worn, holey and probably smelly, but I didn’t dare find that one out. I tried them on, undoing the shoelaces to make sure my feet would fit. I have a bad feeling about this. As I slipped my foot in, I began to feel like Cindarella’s ugly sisters, wanting to slice off my toes to get the shoes to fit.

   

“Do you think these will be okay?” I showed him the soles of the shoes I’d brought with me.

“If it doesn’t rain.” He laughed, patting me on the back. “You’ll be fine.”

   

I put my shoes on and saw a tuk tuk park up with a group of non-Burmese sat in the back: the rest of our tour group. After introducing ourselves, Carla, Maurice, Dori, Lotte, Dong, Viktoria and I were introduced to our guide.

   

“If you have any questions, please ask me!” Smiling, he led us to the tuk tuk as Mr.Bike waved us goodbye, still smiling and laughing (probably at my shoes).

   

As we drove away, the group began to get to know each other. In our midst, we somehow had four Dutch…I don’t think I’ve seen that many Dutch together in my life! During the journey, I told the story of mine and Viktoria’s torrid trip between Yangon and Bagan, Carla about her travelling with her mother (who unfortunately couldn’t join) and Dong who was planning to sleep in his own hammock.

Thirty minutes later and the trek proper began. The day was cloudy, the sun cloaking itself far beyond the clouds, unable to reach us. We were all the more thankful as we began our ascent up a rocky path.

“The first stage of the trek is 45 minutes, then we will stop at a local village.” At this point we had plenty of energy and were all able to discuss our past travels, a perfect start to our experience with Mr.Bike.

As we approached the village, Viktoria saw there were several children waiting to greet us.

   

“HELLO!” they shouted, waving.

“Hello!” I smiled, waiving back toward them.

“Can I have a picture?” Viktoria asked, just as I was about to climb the last few steps before the resting point.

   

“Sure…” SNAP SNAP SNAP and up we went to a small house with a rickety floor. Here, we met our tour porters for the journey, who would be carrying and preparing our food. One, a fifteen year old boy who looked like he’d been on several treks, the other a 31 years old who looked menacing with a knife, but friendly as anything when smiling. Neither could speak English, though.

“If you want water, this is the last place until the end of the day. If you want some rice wine, you can buy it here too” encouraged our porter. Of course we bought some rice wine, while Viktoria got some sweets to share with the children (though not with us).

The rest was welcomed by all, but was over far sooner than anybody wished (though, isn’t that true for all breaks?)

*

For the next hour we walked through more and more greenery, single-file, taking part in more getting to know one another conversations. Only once did I almost slip during that entire time and just as the sun came out we found ourselves sitting at a picnic bench, under a tree, with a river flowing beside us. The porters cooked as we relaxed, took a few photos and smelt the delicious dishes being prepared.

When it arrived, it was a joy. Each of us had a plate of rice, while in the middle of the table we had a choice of aubergine, chilli cucumber, a papaya like food and soup.

It goes without saying, I could have eaten twice what I did, but we had a trek to complete. With the sun well and truly in the sky, some wiser members of group decided to put on some suncream.

   

“Are we going to be in the shade?” I enquired.

“Yes, yes. We’ll be walking under plenty of trees” Taking that to mean exactly the words spoken, I doused myself in insect repellent and forwent the suncream, before following our guide on to the path. Laying across the water was a fallen tree, a smaller one to use as a bannister. One by one, we tentatively made our way over, clutching the smaller branch until we were finally on the other bank of the river ready to begin our 1,000 metre ascent.

   

“You know what the worst part about climbing is?

“…”

“Every time you think that you’re about to reach a flat, the mountain keeps on going.”

   

It was true. On the rare occasion I felt confident enough to look away from my feet, I would glance up and say to myself “oh, we’re almost there.”

   

How wrong I was

   

Sometimes we would, miraculously, reach a clearing, flat and with logs laid out for us to rest on. Above, the trees would provide us with a canopy.

“It’s so tiring” I looked at my fellow climbers, and saw that we were all wearing a layer of sweat, mud splashed on our legs and breathing more heavily than at the start of our adventure. With the increased difficulty, conversation had dried up: talk or walk, but not both at the same time.

No sooner had the sweat dried on our clothes, did our guide tell us “only two more hours to go, but the next break is in 30 minutes. Everyone ready?” We were used to it by this point and got on our not-so-merry way.

   

*

   

“Tom, you’re neck is burning”

“Oh…thanks….I mean, there isn’t a lot I can do about it now! Does it look bad?”

“Yeah, it’s pretty red”

Our guide interrupted “Over there is a village. Can you see it?” Through the trees, on the other side of the mountain were a few small buildings. “Tourists are not allowed there. But don’t worry. Everywhere we’ve been is safe”

I thought back to the morning where we’d seen men walking around with guns. “Just the local army. Nothing to worry about” we were told.

“If you want, I can put some suncream on your neck.”

“Thank you. I really thought the trees would keep us protected.” I said, as Lotte sprayed sun cream on me. It was a very welcome respite from the heat.

   

*

   

“It’s only 45 minutes from here.”

“You said it would be two hours!”

“Yeah, but now look how happy you all are!”

   

He was right. We were ecstatic about the news. We stayed at their resting spot a little longer than the others, as the porters and the guide took out a slingshot to shoot pellets at a bottle.

   

POW

   

The older porter knocked down the bottle, effortlessly lifting, barely trying to aim.

   

“Would any of you like to try?”

“I’d like a go.” I stood up and took the  slingshot in my right hand, the left being used to draw the elastic back. I looked carefully at my new weapon and let go.

   

POW

   

The pellet flew out and instantly made impact with the grass a few metres away from the bottle. I really messed that one up. I tried a few more times, but was unable to hit the bottle. It’s a lot more difficult than it looks.

   

The final 45 minutes were significantly better than the previous few hours. No longer were we walking up, up and up, but now the terrain was varied, Unfortunately, that didn’t make it much easier, just we weren’t being drenched in our own sweat with every step.

“Let’s just stop for a minute. Get our breath.” Carla and Lotte agreed and we stood, wondering just how much further we’d have to walk. We all took a drink of water before walking on.

“Wait…Is that the treehouse?” We’d only walked five or six more steps when we saw through the overgrown grass, a treehouse looking down on us. The last few steps were the easiest we’d had so far and I bounced up the stairs leading to the main floor of our abode for the night.

That’s the end of Part 1. I hope you’ve enjoyed reading it. If you have, please leave a comment and share the blog!

Several of these photos were taken by Viktoria. Any photo that looks to be of a higher quality is almost certainly hers. Thank you, Viktoria for the photos and great company!