We took a trip to Myanmar with Malcolm and Pic, Sandy and Jim and Ben, and Michael and Denis. It was a wonderful time and we all enjoyed ourselves. Our guide, Myu Myu was fantastic, and made sure we not only saw all there was to see, but gave us enough time in each temple, pagoda, and market to insure we saw it all.
In eleven days, we visited Yangon, Golden Rock, Bagan, Mandalay, Inlay Lake, and back to Yangon. Myu Myu kept us moving, and we saw all the major tourist sites. Next trip, we will visit the smaller towns and out of the way sites.
I’m a bit upset I didn’t make posts while we were there and it was still fresh in my mind, but we were constantly on the move. There was simply no time of energy left for any kind of writing.
Herman, however, took a billion pictures so I will use the ones he posted on FB to try and reconstruct what we did and what we saw.
One of the most memorable things that happened was at Inlay Lake. It was not a matter of what was there, it was what wasn’t there. We stayed in cabins built over the water, a long way from shore. The only way to get there was by boat, and after sunset, the boat traffic died down to nothing. I remember noting the quiet before going to bed, but in the middle of the night, I woke to the strangest sensation: a deep silence; a total absence of sound. There was no motors, no electric appliances, no wind rustling leaves, no snoring, only the beating of my heart. I can’t remember ever experiencing such a profound stillness. I listened for what seemed hours, but the silence was unbroken. I was afraid to even move because I didn’t want to disturb something that seemed sacred. I finally nodded off to sleep again, and awoke to the sound of rain pulsing on the roof tiles.
What a shame we all can’t experience that kind of holy silence on a regular basis. I believe people would become more at peace, more loving and forgiving, if they could.