On a whim, I went to Burma this October holiday. I looked up flights about two weeks in advance, and, startled to see a round-trip via Kunming a mere 3100rmb, pulled the trigger. Short story: it was incredible. The Burma of today walks a fine line. Though still relatively untarnished by mass tourism, the last few years have seen enough development to deliver a functional tourist infrastructure that makes traveling there easy, comfortable, and stress-free.

There’s never been a better time to go. It won’t be this way for long. You’ve been warned.

Yangon

Most people will tell you to spend only a day or two in Yangon. I agree. My recommendation: pick any spot in the city and walk there with a bad map (or no map). We chose Shwedagon Pagoda, because why not? It’s huge and gold.

The streets of Yangon are wonderful—a compelling mix of crumbling colonial architecture and poorly made buildings built by and for a poor country. But there’s a hustle and bustle to the streets that I dig.

Yangon also has an innovative analog solution to the electronic doorbell. Businesses above the first floor drape long cords down to the street from their balconies, connected to little bells above. Here’s a fourth floor dental clinic soliciting patients:



Approaching Shwedagon, you see the telltale signs of a meaningful-place-turned-hollow-tourist-attraction. At the mouth of a park across from the temple, two men on stilts—one in blackface—dance to the Macarena. Just within the park grounds is the dirtiest man-made “lake” I’ve ever seen. Tchotchkes abound.

Far above the street, the golden dome of Shwedagon looms. To get there, you have to hike up hundreds of stairs, past dozens of stalls selling lousy factory-produced Buddha miniatures, cheesy t-shirts, packs of cheap incense, coffee mugs. But press on you will; it’s why you came, after all.



At the top of the stairs, you pay USD 8 (about 48rmb) to get in plus an additional five bucks for a longyi if you’re in shorts or a garment that reveals your legs. At the time, this irked me—what, they’re going to pretend that somewhere amidst all of this crass commercialism there’s a spiritual center?

But my longyi—a sort of skirt that dudes and ladies alike wear in Burma—changed my life. Ladies, you’re onto something with skirts.

The surrounding shrines and temples are wonderful, and better restored. When we visited, the main attraction was strapped with scaffolding (and, we learned from an informal guide, almost entirely restored with little to nothing remaining of the original) and offered little.

But there is some nice stuff up at the top of Shwedagon, like this:

Bagan

I won’t try and be flowery here: Bagan is the most incredible place I’ve ever been. There are thousands of temples, more or less untouched, free and open for exploration.

Despite a few main temples that get crowded at sunrise and sunset, there are thousands of others that aren’t, and there is no shortage of places to discover the area almost entirely alone. The big, popular temples are worth taking in during the day, but at sunrise and sunset wise travelers will find that random, unmarked sites with stairways to the upper reaches will do just fine.

You’ll want at least two full days in Bagan, and the first move is renting some cheap electric scooters. At USD 8 bucks (about 48rmb) a day, these things are a steal. Just ask any hotel or guesthouse and they’ll hook you up, with delivery and drop off at the lobby for your convenience.

Best of all, it’s a no-holds-barred all-you-can-scooter situation. If you get a flat (which we did, 11 times), or run down your battery (which we also did, seven times), or lose your bike entirely (which we actually did, no kidding), it’s not a problem. You find the nearest person with a cellphone, show them the card on your key and they’ll call the rental place, who sends someone out with a fresh bike in around 15 minutes.

These bikes give you the freedom you need to wander the thousands of temples aimlessly. If you visit Bagan in the winter, a regular bike will suffice – but when it’s hot, the importance of these electric scooters can’t be overstated.
And the temples, man. Just, man. Wow. They look pretty damn good at sunrise:



Spend your sunrises at North Guni, an as-yet-undiscovered gem of a temple that you can climb—for now, at least. Burmese tourism officials have already closed some temples off with gates for preservation and safety purposes, and the amount of freely available temples is sure to drop dramatically in the next few years. On one occasion, one of my friends was climbing a temple and an entire cornice came off in his hand. He was lucky not to fall, and the temple’s inevitable demise was hastened. Such freedom is, unfortunately, bad for everyone.
Avoid at all costs the popular temples anytime the sun is near the horizon. Here is North Guni at sunrise:



Here are some more temples during the day:



When you get your fill of temples, head west towards the Ayeyarwaddy River, which runs lazily alongside the town. There, we found boats:



And also this charming old lady, who introduced us to these wonderful Burmese cigars, rolled in leaves with cardboard filters:




For lunch, we were regulars at the Moon Café, just east of Old Bagan. It’s popular with tourists–always a sign to be wary of–but it didn’t disappoint on the food front.

I’ve never eaten so much okra in my life as I did in Burma.



And also a lot of great curries that walk an interesting line between Thai- and Indian-style. Like this pumpkin curry...



I would have happily stayed another week in Bagan. But unless you’re on one of those endless Southeast Asian vacations to "find yourself" and have loads of time, two or three full days should suffice.

Inle Lake

After the frantic pace of trying to see everything in Bagan—an impossible undertaking—the slower pace of Inle Lake is a welcome departure. It’s accessed via this state-of-the-art airport:



The Heho airport is about an hour outside of Inle Lake, in Shan State, which gives visitors a unique opportunity to observe the challenges of driving in Burma. Perhaps the most baffling and immediately evident quirk is the British legacy of right-hand-drive cars.

This would be no more odd than, say, an American visiting Thailand were it not for the fact that in 1970 the Burmese government mandated that all traffic switch to driving on the right side of the road. Normally, this shift would be accompanied by a transition to left-hand-drive cars—so that drivers can safely perform such advanced maneuvers as turning left, or safely navigating the curvy mountain roads on the way to Inle Lake. Not so in Burma. Though there are occasional outliers with left-hand-drive, a confounding majority of vehicles, even new ones, retain their British heritage and have the steering wheel and driver on the wrong side of the vehicle for driving on the right side of the road.

Honestly, it’s nuts.

But we survived our harrowing drive past landscapes like this:



The village of Nyaung Shwe has a nice grit to it, almost like a place you could get stabbed in. There’s a thriving market with terrifying nuclear drinks:



...And bright green candy that looks amazing but tastes like ass:



But grittiness aside, it’s a really nice village.



The real highlights of Inle Lake are the food, the surrounding countryside, and the lake. The food is a really interesting blend of Chinese and Southeast Asian cuisine, and is not to be missed. This butterfish steamed in leaves is delicious:



As is this take on chicken satay, served alongside a smooth peanut sauce with a spicy kick:



But you gotta get out on a boat.

For USD 20 (about 120rmb) or so, you can get a four or five-seat longboat with a deafening outboard motor to take you around the lake. Our pilot was a real trooper and didn’t blink an eye when we asked to go out in the face of an impending storm.

The river that feeds Inle Lake is busy, split between tourists and locals ferrying people, food, and goods down the river.



Thirty minutes or so from Nyaung Shwe, you arrive at this temple:



Which was, to put it mildly, a bit of a disappointment after the temples of Bagan. Spoiler alert: the Inle Lake temple is a gift shop with a gold roof. Avoid.

Make sure you take a whole day on the lake. It's absolutely gorgeous, all swaying reeds, serene mountainsides, and little waterways with access to communities built entirely on stilts.

The countryside surrounding the lake is graceful and worth a bike trip. A short bike ride in any direction will put you in the middle of something like this



Inle Lake was super relaxing, beautiful, and worth a visit.

So Burma, eh?

Yes, Burma. It isn’t the wild destination it once was. Everyone and their parents will be there soon. It’s getting popular, so go now.

Places like Yangon and Inle Lake stand to improve with the changes, as more affordable high-quality lodging and services populate the mid-range tourism sector. This is no doubt welcome.

But Bagan, man, Bagan. That place is basically under hospice care already. Wait much longer, and it’ll be strangled dead at the hands of preservation efforts and all the associated evils of mass-market destinations that keep me home most holidays. I’ll never forget barreling down Bagan’s empty ox paths on a cheap electric scooter, my legs wide and my Burmese skirt billowing in the wind, an endless parade of temples ahead, without a care in the world.