My quest for sunrise in Bagan

It’s 4:30am. The receptionist is in a deep sleep on the floor behind his desk. His snores echo throughout the room. With an hour to find Pyathada Pagoda before the sun leaks its first rays over Bagan, we have no choice but to wake him. A half-dazed receptionist faces us and makes a call to wake the sleeping security guard who is in charge of the keys for the bicycles we had ordered for 4:30. A second half-dazed gentlemen comes and unlocks our bikes and pumps up a flat tyre on one of the bicycles, and we are soon off down the road.

Arriving at the dirt trail that we believe is the start of our zig zag southbound towards the temple, we have our sights set for sunrise: a headlamp may have been a good idea. Sticking my Iphone in my top, flashlight on, is going to be as good as I can get. We leave the road and any sort of light behind and make our way on what we think to be the correct trail towards Pyathada Pagoda. Our map indicates only three very simple turns after leaving the main road. What the receptionist failed to tell us is that the map isn’t exactly to scale and it doesn’t have all the many, many trails crisscrossing each other and winding in other directions.

Essentially we are now fumbling through the dark on our bicycles through deep sand. We find a small temple with steps you can climb, after taking what, in the dark, seems as our first turn. Knowing it’s not our goal, we debate whether or not to just stay here for sunrise. A taxi arrives, dropping off two tourists. We show the driver our map and he quickly points us back to the trail we turned off. So off we fumble again into the darkness. How hard could it be?

We come to an intersection and another debate is endured as to the right way and we continue our slog towards where we think Pyathada Pagoda stands tall in the distance. Reaching another intersection and receiving a flat front tyre on the bike needing air at the beginning, our hope at arriving dwindles. The pitch black of night begins to lighten. We race onwards believing we now know where we are and we turn right, which should definitely be our last turn onto the homestretch. Again we are fooled and again we are lost. This time we traipse through a field of bristles with our bikes and climb a mound to get our bearings. With the sun beginning to rise, we can see a temple in the distance which we believe is our goal.

Off we set in a mad dash on our bikes in an attempt to beat the sun. Getting stuck in prickly bushes lining the edges of the field, we begin a search for the way we came in. We find it and get back on the main path and continue our dash to the temple. Reaching a temple halfway, it is now light and the sun has evidently risen behind the clouds. With a faulty bike and the sun rising, we have no choice but to find a way to the top of the temple, we have stopped downheartedly at. Running through the pitch black halls inside the temple, I find a gated stairway. Locked. Stirring birds as I continue to run around the inside of the temple, I find another gate, which is closed. But not locked!

I run back to the front and grab my dad and we both run to the staircase I’d found to get to the top. Climbing the inner staircase, I assume someone must be up there and had located the key master to unlock the gate. The top of the temple opens into a vast space, giving you a 360 degree view of the temples of Bagan. It is empty. After experiencing the throng of tourists (to Myanmar tourist crowd standards) the day before, I am shocked to find we have the place to ourselves. A whole temple, sunrise, just for us.

Sitting and waiting for the sun to rise, I feel blessed. We may not have made our goal temple but we have found exactly what we were looking for. A beautiful view, our very own view that we did not have to share with others. The sun rises and lights up the temples of Bagan, making them glow all around us. It is us, the sun and our temple.

After almost an hour at the top, we head back down to our bicycles for our ride home for breakfast. On the way we meet two local farmers who have their cattle near the temple we had just visited. Wanting to know what it is called, I produce my map and the women discuss where they are. Identifying all the temples around us on the photocopied piece of paper, one of the ladies gives up. After much deliberation and determinedness of the other woman, she finds it on the map. Pyathada Pagoda! The very temple we had been trying to get to for our super sunset.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The ride home is now a ride of ecstatic joy and even the deep sand can’t faze me. I feel like I am sailing over it with my bicycle.

Back-navigating, it turns out that we took the right roads to get to the temple just a few detours into the grounds of maybe 90% of the temples on the way. The trialling ride through the dark, just hours earlier which had left us downhearted about failing to reach our goal, has now turned into a successful, ecstatic adventure through the dark. One that I would love to repeat tomorrow in hope of clearer skies.