Flying into Myanmar I had butterflies in my stomach (the good ones).
I was minutes away from touching down on a country that had seldom been explored.
A country that was expected to have developed rapidly after gaining independence from Britain in 1948, but the military seized an opportunity, cementing a grip on power, producing one of the most repressive, brutal regimes in modern history and for more then twenty five years it’s borders sealed and its people isolated.
Now with the worlds eyes on Myanmar, travel visas have become more accessible, so I jumped on the bandwagon.

First stop Yangon.
Once the capital (changed to Nay Pyi Taw in 2005) mind numbing traffic as far as the eye can see. Colonial building that even in decay seem somewhat beautifully majestic. Temples and pagoda’s gilded masterpieces are seen throughout the city that would make you question your inner atheist.
Children with sheer ebullience jump through puddles of water (monsoon season has well and truly begun) whilst stall merchants entice passer by’s with an intense smell of lunchtime cuisine.

“Welcome to Myanmar” a man shouts out from his car window with teeth the colour of blood. “You want to see where our mother lives”? Twenty minutes later and the imprint of my hands left on Tay Na passenger seat I arrive at the gates of Aung San Suu Kyi compound. “She never forgot us” Na says wiping the evidence of betel nut from his lips, and that she didn’t.
This lady embodies the soul of the nation; With the power of speech her kindred spirit infused a hope and a hope that was maintained. House arrest would never tame her; she refused to be bribed into silence, her love and compassion triumphed.

Driving back through the city gigantic billboards with white-faced beauties rise high above the city, commercialism is on the horizon.
It’s quite evident the fine line between the rich and poor and it seems the train doesn’t meet half way, as you bare witness to shantytowns amid luxury two storey buildings.
“If you want to be successful in this country you need lots of money”, Na say’s “They look down on us, and never offer help.”

The bus trip to Mandalay was relatively smooth and comfortable; I had heard horror stories from previous travelers, how they were lucky to have their necks still intact. I was later informed that a private Chinese company has leased this particular road from the government. This was my first of many encounters where the Chinese are evident and active, like vultures they are aggressively and ruthlessly attacking and exploiting Myanmar abundance of resources, so come to Myanmar before they really get their grip on this country.
While gazing out the bus window I couldn’t help but be reminded of the beautiful poem by Rudyard King

Come you back to Mandalay,
Where the old Flotilla lay:
Can’t you ‘ear their paddles chunkin’ from Rangoon to Mandalay?
On the road to Mandalay,
Where the flyin’-fishes play,
An’ the dawn comes up like thunder outer China ‘cross the Bay!

The countryside is as green as the emerald isle; Patches of sunlight dance amid the grazing buffalo’s. Paddy fields line the landscape, while families work endlessly hard to maintain them. How self-reliant they are, it’s times like these where you can really put your life into perspective. No doubt life is hard, but they appear happy and content as they wave to us with infectious smiles. I’m falling more and more in love here.
I hadn’t arrived in Mandalay ten minutes when I found myself in a local taxi driver’s house teaching English to his neighbour’s children.
His name was Toe Toe and he had a profound affect on my time here. Not only a taxi driver and enthusiastic English teacher, he also volunteered in a local orphanage.
Like most Burmese he was highly ambitious “One day I will own my own travel company” beaming with great endearment.

The following day he brought me to his brother’s monastery where his mother also resides. His brother is the head monk there and also practices alternative medicine. It seems there is a great tendency to rely on this traditional medicine rather then place yourself in the mercy of the state.
In Mandalay alone there are over 400,000 monks and all are openly political. They fear not of the government especially there 300,000 military. With over 2,100 political prisoners, monks rank high among these.
A largely Buddhist population with some 50 million, it remains a constant solace.

Myanmar is not one for the tourist but for the traveler. It takes a lot of time and patience to get from A to B, roads are pretty horrendous, but it’s a great way to see the country and mix with the locals, even at times when your staring down with gnawing fear into the deep depths of a five hundred foot drop, nothing like living on the wild side once and a while.
Domestic flights can be expensive but if you have little time, there is no harm indulging in one or two.

Next stop Bagan…
Bagan is a rival to Ankor Wat in Cambodia and remains one of Myanmar hidden treasures. There is a boundless capacity for astonishment so linger long here.
It is the site of the first Burmese kingdom dating back between the 11th and 13th century, over 3,000 Buddhists temples and pagoda’s scatter across the plains.
Be taken around in a horse and cart (one of the main means of transport) and top it off with a climb to one of the highest temples to watch the sunset. If only moments like these were perpetual.

I have to be honest and say that I did feel at times as if I was being led on a leash. The military know your every move, I don’t mean that they lurk in the corners of the streets ready to pounce, majority of the time they are no where to be seen but in terms of Passport and visa that are required when booking accommodation, traveling on buses, ferries, etc. that’s where the leash tightens.
There were a few incidents when they randomly stormed onto buses with an air of asperity, some frightfully young demanding everybody’s ID card (which is compulsory to carry).

Trekking up the mountains of Inle lake was one of my many highlights, not just for the breathtaking views but for the company i had along the way. Dan Tae has been leading tours up this mountain for the last 20 years. “When I first started this business it was painfully slow, nobody wanted to travel to Myanmar because it was too dangerous” ”Do I look dangerous?” he laughs out, “But in the last 3 years I have been busy, last year I worked thirty six days in a row, my family were proud.”
With the influx of tourism making its way here, Dan Tae can secure an education for his three children, two of whom settling into university. “The future is bright, and my children will have opportunities that I could only dream of, it’s a good time to be young here.”

It’s difficult to really understand the complexities of this inchoate country, and how a regime could come from such a people, but they are everything the regime is not, they are kind, generous, engaging and humorous. People’s perceptions of this country need to change and we have the ability to do just that, see it through your eyes not the media’s.
No doubt it is in the mists of a transition, a tangled web of repression and reform with western influence a hop, skip and jump away. So I urge you to go NOW.
Experience a country like no other, so beautifully unspoilt, rich in culture and traditions,and rightly so  the jewel of Asia.

As I make my way back to Yangon I am overcome by the wisdom and beauty beyond the suffering endured.
No doubt they have a long road towards reaching freedom but I could smell the sweet scent and in the words of Aung San “Let us join hands to try create a peaceful world where we can sleep in security and wake in happiness.”