To Burma or Not To Burma

We are standing on the 2nd floor of an unfinished house build looking through a not-yet-glazed window opening with views across a 5 hole golf course to the sun setting on the mountains dividing Thailand from Myanmar. It’s a beautiful view in a soon-to-be beautiful house; and the people who are building this palatial space are just as lovely.

The beginning of this adventure that bought us to this view across the valley to Burma starts in Bangkok 10 days prior. We had arrived at the hotel block, chilli house, at 7 am, to be told “room ready 2pm”. With 7 hours to kill we had a breakfast of rice and soup and using Google maps rode to the Consulate getting there as it opened at 9am. There are hoards of people milling around, sitting on the pavement and blocking the entrance to a rather grimy waiting room. I leave B outside guarding the bike as we have been warned about tow-aways for illegal parking and squeeze past the doorman to make enquiries about documents and visa forms. Oh, there’s a man outside in a yellow pick-up who provides forms, pens, photocopy service and advice. So that’s why all the people are sitting on the pavement; they are filling out forms. I get the required documents and head back to B, where a group of 5 other westerners have gathered to chat and exchange information. I fill in the complicated forms that want to know what your work is (retired) and your previous work, how long for , etc, etc. Is this a CV? No just a visa request for Burma. The spare passport photos which we have been carry for moments like these need cutting, so squeeze back passed the doorman to the man selling cooldrinks who keeps the scissors. The doorman has a handy miniature stapler as a key ring and politely obliges by stapling the photos in the correct square. We now realize that there is a separate entrance for Westerners and as the door opens, all 5 of us go inside. I am given ticket no 11.

B goes off to find a secure park. I recognise a rather confident chap who was also at the yellow pick up and we start chatting; he looks like he knows what’s going on; He’s from Canada and this is his 9th visit to Burma in the last year. B returns and we sit down to await our turn, and then the mosquitos attack. We stand up and they back off. Strange? We stay standing. Our number flashes on the electronic screen and we approach the desk. Our first question throws the lady a bit off balance, she was expecting to stamp the form take our money and next, please; We ask her “Can we take our motorbike into Myanmar?” and hand over the Green Log Book. Much shaking of her heada nd she calls another lady, who discharges us from the desk to another lady at another desk. We decide that there is no point in us going to Burma if the bike is not allowed in. The nice Canadian has informed us that most travel in Burma is by tour, bus, train and a paid driver, or your own bicycle/tandem. So now we stand and wait while the boss lady makes a phone call. No answer, but then gives us the number to ring ourselves. We dial and dial and then a lovely Burmese accented English speaking voice says “Hello, may I help you?”

We explain our predicament about applying for visas, but if we cannot take the motorbike, then we will withdraw the application. Apparently I am speaking to the Chief of the Myanmar Tourist Board on her personal mobile number; she charmingly explains that the application for the motorbike to cross borders will take 3 months. I politely explain that we want to go next week. “not possible, but please phone me on your next visit 3 months before you want to go and she will arrange the necessary papers.” How sweet, I save the number. We go back inside the office, jump the queue, retrieve our application forms, wish the Canadian bon voyage and a bit disappointed realize that this year Burma is not to be.

Yet here we are in a building site looking across to the Burmese hills, how did that happen?

After an eventful recovery week in Ban Ton, Khon Kaen, and with a new bike (see story: a week in Ban Ton), we had pointed the compass due west and decided to drive until we got to the renowned ‘friendship bridge’ that spans the natural border of the Moei river at Mae sot. The total distance from Ban Ton, Khon Kaen to Mae Sot is 546kms. With the new bike a mere 2 day ride. We aimed to do 320 kms on day 1 stopping at Phitsanulok. The fuel tank on the new bike is 12 litres giving a range of 350kms before filling up. It’s highway 12 and with the sun behind us we have a glorious day’s ride. We wear long sleeves and long trousers to stop skin burn and get our riding positions comfortable. The clip-on bars are a bit low for B who is used to Enduro bikes with high bars. My riding position seat is super comfortable as we are sitting on the Tiger seat so bum shape and seat are well moulded and acquainted. As b is leaning further forward than usual i cannot really tuck in behind him and feel a bit exposed and vulnerable. I’ve stopped taking paracetomol but am still coughing and gurgling. The ride was good and the warmth was great, a good way to go for complete recovery. Wemade amazing time and progress along the highway, passing bright green rice paddy fields, seeing herons and white egret type birds. A good day to get to Phitsanulok by mid afternoon. We treated ourselves to a spacious room in the tropical Rain Forest Resort, where the room overlooked the tops of the trees way down to the Khek river below. A change of clothes and walking stick at the ready we set out to explore the area, heading down to the river where we found a waterfall spilling into a natural pool filled with happy Thai people enjoying the waters. A little shallow narrow gorge was the perfect place for children as young as 5years old to sit in innertubes, lock hands to feet and zoom through the fast sluit and collapse in a heap of laughter and splashes on the other side. Sort of wild white water rafting in miniature. We found a lovely balcony overlooking the river for a supper of rice and soup, washed down with iced water and watched in fascination as a teenager tied some 5 litre plastic bottles together. He then proceeded to slowly get in the river and balance himself on these bouyancy tanks. He either couldn’t swim or needed swimming aids in the fast flowing water; struggling against the bouyancy tanks he kept diving under the water and then proudly came up with the ends of a long string of netting. Holding on he pulled himself along the net and disentangled a large pink fish; by now he had spotted that we were intrigued. He gave us a friendly wave with the fish in his hand. We waved back and he posed in the water for a photograph. I had purchased the most wonderful sony super zoom (30 x optical plus digital zoom) and can capture remarkable scenes that are very far away. He was at least 75 metres away but the images are great.

We sauntered back to the Tropical Rain forest, feeling at peace, if only I would stop coughing! Next day up early to ride the remaining couple of hundred kms to Mae Sot. Again wonderful road, wonderful scenery, wonderful bike. In fact so wonderful we missed the all important roundabout directing us to Mae Sot. By late afternoon we agree “this is taking a bit long”. B pulls up at a shabby garage under a big spreading acacia tree, “where on earth are we?”. Before we can get out the Map app I spot a sign reading BAAN Mont INN . “It doesn’t matter where we are, we stop right here, right now and worry about it in the morning”.

The price for the room was larger than our budget so we asked the receptionist if there was any chance of a discount, us being on a bike and a tight budget. She handed me the owner’s number, who spoke excellent English; We agreed on a discount and set about unpacking and freshening up.

Whilst unloading the bike a very pretty Thai lady appeared, followed shortly by her Western husband . They introduced themselves as the owners and were intrigued as to how non-Thai people had landed up at their off-the-main-route inn. We were invited to their main resort a few kms away and followed their pick-up to this incredible West-meets-East complex. 14 years ago it had been an unusable piece of agricultural land, nobody could grow the local maize crop on it as it was constantly under water from the drainage of the surrounding mountains. It was now transformed into a 5hole golf course with swimming pool and lush exotic vegetation. The homestead is re-conditioned teak built in the style of the great English barns belonging to the era od Henry 8th, with huge beams and hand crafted carving by local Burmese. More land had been purchased and the new project was a contemporary ultra modern piece of architecture erupting out of the exotic plants. That’s where we were entertained with coffee and cooldrink and the grand tour and sunset views; by the way the westerner was nearing 80, fit and full of energy. His wife holds a senior nursing position at the Mae Sot hospital. We were 25kms off course and couldn’t have had a nicer diversion. I was driven home in the pick-up and B followed on the bike through the maize fields back to the inn. What a lovely end to a perfect day. Well get to ‘friendship bridge’ tomorrow.