Princess Traveler #sol16 23 of 31

The other day, over dinner, Mel and I were telling stories of our travels together (we’ve been to Egypt, Myanmar, and Thailand), and the story of our 12-hour overnight bus ride from Inle Lake to Bagan, Myanmar came up. In this story, I play the “princess traveler,” as she tells it.

Over the years, while living abroad, my friends have lovingly joked that I’m a “princess traveler.” Let me clarify this by saying that when compared to typical American travelers, I am far from princess-like, but when compared to backpackers and seasoned international travelers, I tend to fall further along the princess line. I admit that I tend to over pack, but that’s just because I like to be prepared and have options when it comes to fashion. I also admit to preferring (ok…demanding) that the place I stay have hot water. Furthermore, I admit to a minimum standard of food and food cleanliness, which means that I may not eat from that street vendor I saw cooking without washing his hands first. But, I am not sure that these things make me a “princess traveler.” I’ll let you decide.

Let me preface this story by saying that our trip to Myanmar was almost completely unplanned, as we got our visas a day before we were set to leave. That being said, we didn’t research much of the travel between places in Myanmar, nor did we book any accommodation beforehand. See…totally not princess-like! Now back to Mel’s story.

We had already been to Yangon, and had just finished up our stay in Inle Lake. Our last city in Myanmar would be Bagan, the city of a thousand of temples. Our 16-hour bus ride from Yangon to Inle Lake was pretty luxurious, by developing country standards, so we had high hopes for our 12-hour ride to Bagan. Mel got the window on the first bus ride, so this time it was my turn. Unbeknownst to me, Mel had just eaten something that would later disagree with her stomach big time, giving her food poisoning for days to come.

To say this bus was a disappointment would be an understatement. The VIP treatment we received on the Yangon bus was long gone, as were the comfy recliner seats. We were basically on a school bus. For 12 hours. Overnight. On the worst roads ever. But, determined to make the best of it, I settled into my window seat. Using my neck pillow, I nuzzled up next to the window, getting as comfortable as I could. I donned my eye mask to block out the light and my ear buds (playing soothing classical music of course) to block out the sound, and settled in for some sleep.

Mel, who was getting sicker and sicker as time went on, was not as cozy and comfy as me. Her stomach, which was already gurgling and flip flopping all over the place, thanks to the bout of food poisoning settling in, was made worse by the bumpy roads and, as you can imagine, poor quality shocks on our bus. Without a window to lean on, and no neck pillow to use, she was left to try and sleep by laying her head back against the non-reclining seat. Anyone who’s ever ridden a school bus knows this is not really the most conducive position for sleep. To make matters worse, Mel had the unfortunate experience, being on the aisle where a small seat folded down next to her, to be seated next to a Burmese man who thought her shoulder was perfect for sleeping on. So, here she is, sandwiched between two people, one of whom was encroaching on her space by sleeping on her shoulder, on a bumpy bus, with a gurgling stomach, unable to sleep, and she looks over at me, with my neck pillow and eye mask on, snoozing away, while she’s in utter pain, and she is struck by my utter princess-ness. The way she tells it, when we arrived in Bagan at just shy of 5:00 am, I pulled the eye mask off, scrunched up my face, and said in my most whiny voice, “Ugh! I am so tired! I had the worst sleep ever!” I can’t imagine I’d ever do that, but my memory fails me at the moment. 😉 Boiling over, she regales me with her trip, complete with sleeping-on-the-shoulder guy and the fact that she had to have the bus stop twice, in addition to the scheduled rest stops, so she could throw up on the side of the road. OK, she wins. Her ride was worse.

Once in Bagan, with the sun not yet out, we get into the only available taxi- a horse drawn carriage. In case you were wondering, this isn’t an ideal form of transportation for a sick and grumpy passenger. OK, remember when I told you that we were adventurous, fly-by-the-seat-of-our-pants travelers? Well, that means that here we are at 5:00 am with no place to stay, and no Internet on our phones to look up a place. Huge dilemma. We asked the driver to take us to a nearby hotel, and when he drove up, I was a little taken aback by the look of it. I asked the driver to go ask if they had hot water (yeah, yeah, I know…princess). It turns out they didn’t. Back to the bumpy road we went, in search of a bed and hot water. The next place didn’t have any either. Mel, by this point, had lost her patience with me, and said, in no uncertain terms, that I had one more shot. Remembering I had downloaded an app for Myanmar that worked offline, I found a hotel whose reviews were pretty good. It just so happened it was on the opposite end of town. Mel acquiesced, and off we went. Lucky for me, they had hot water and vacancy! We checked in, had a hot shower, and took a much-needed nap.

Upon waking, we spent the rest of the day in awe of the temples. I wish I could say that the bus ride was the worst thing that happened on our trip, but as it turns out, I was wrong about our return flight times, and we had another adventure!

I’m not that much of a princess, am I?

A Year in Photos- 2015 #sol16 20 of 31

Last year, I wrote a post sharing my favorite photos from 2014. This was a really great way to reflect on my year, and to relive some of my favorite moments. So here goes 2015’s year in photos (in chronological order). I hope you enjoy! 🙂

All photos copyright of Jennifer Kesler. Please do not use without permission.

A Funny Story (at least I thought so)- SOL #9

I had dinner tonight with my friend Marisa, who wanted to pick my brain about Myanmar. Having traveled to Myanmar last October, she wanted the low down on what to expect, where to stay, and must-see locations. As I was telling her about my new favorite place in the world, I remembered a funny story…

Our last stop in Myanmar was Bagan, the ancient city with over 4,000 temples. Being that we had traveled to 3 places in the country in a week, we were pressed for time. Having arrived at 5:00am on an overnight bus, we took a nap, and upon waking, set out to see as much as we could see in our day there. Our first stop was the bus company, where we booked our return trip to Yangon for our flight back to China the following day. Once there, we learned we have the option of taking (another) overnight bus or a day bus the next day. Melissa asked me, “When’s our flight tomorrow?” I found it funny that she’s asking me, the traveler with the lack of attention to detail, but I vaguely remembered and told her that our flight was at 9:00PM.
“Are you sure?” she questions.
“Pretty sure.” Given our previous night’s overnight bus experience (I’ll save that for another story), we were keen to take the day bus, which would get us back to Yangon by 6:00PM, in plenty of time for our 9:00PM flight.

We then proceeded to visit as many temples as possible in Old Bagan. The temples are their own story, so I’ll just leave you with a few pictures until I write that story on another day…

At the end of a long day of temple-hopping, we arrived at the Star Beam Bistro, this adorable Euro-cafe in the heart of Old Bagan. Sitting on the terrace, we ordered a spectacular meal of grilled salmon, fresh veggies, and cream sauce. Including my drink, the total was a whopping $6.00! As we reflected on the day, reliving the excitement of the past 8 hours, we were pleased that we had decided on the day bus. A night of sleep in a comfy bed plus a day of seeing the country side seemed heavenly!
“Hey, what time do we get back to Shanghai tomorrow?” Melissa asked.
“Ummm…I think around midnight or 12:30.”
“That’s not possible.”
“Yes, I’m pretty sure that’s what the itinerary said.”
“Jennifer, if we leave Yangon at 9:00, and then have a layover in Kunming, we can’t possibly get back to Shanghai then. It took us 6 hours to get here.”
“Yeah, but what about the time change?”
“It’s only an hour and a half difference. That still doesn’t make sense.”
“Well, I could be wrong, but I’m pretty sure it said 12 something as our arrival time.”
Determined to figure out the answer, Melissa looks through her inbox on her iPhone. We don’t have access to wifi (the case nearly everywhere in Myanmar), but she can access saved messages. A few seconds later, her face falls. “Jennifer, we fly out of Kunming at 9:00PM. We fly out of Yangon at 2:00.”
Uh-oh! Sheepishly I said, “Well, I knew we left at 9:00. I guess I just had the location wrong.”
Panic set in on Melissa’s face. “What are we going to do? Our bus arrives at 6:00PM tomorrow. We’re going to miss our flight!!!”
“We’ll figure something out. No worries,” I said, remaining calm.
Melissa did not mirror my calmness.

Well, there was a bus that left that night. I figured if we got our food to go, we could rush back to the hotel, throw our stuff in a bag, and catch the bus in time. Calling the manager over, I borrowed his phone to call the bus company to inquire about the switch. I was informed that the bus left in half an hour, so we couldn’t possibly make it. Melissa was not too happy with the situation (or me). “We’ll figure something out,” I reassured her. It’s not like we could be stuck in Myanmar forever, right?

My composure still intact, I asked the manager if he had wifi. My plan was to book us a way out by tomorrow. No dice. Hmmm…well, we could rent a taxi and drive there tonight, but that was likely to be expensive. And who knows if there are any taxis that drive 10 hours to Yangon? How about a flight? Sure, we’ve heard that Myanmar has the lowest domestic airline safety rating of pretty much anywhere in the world, but desperate times called for desperate measures. Unsure of the possibility of getting a last minute flight out of Bagan and scared to find out the cost of said flight, I again speak to the manager. “Do you know how I could get a flight to Yangon by tomorrow? I seem to have made a mistake about our flight time and we aren’t going to make it.” Serendipitously, his cousin happens to be a travel agent. In a moment, I’m on the line with him making a reservation for two. Not only can we get on a flight in the morning, but it only costs $112 per ticket. Now that’s a deal! The tickets were delivered to our hotel about a half hour later, and we were saved! I’m glad, too, or Melissa would have killed me!