Early breakfast – chilly enough we ate indoors. Valerie’s tummy better, but she wisely stuck to toast and jelly, while I dug back into another Myanmar noodle concoction. Stomach starts to protest, so I moved quickly to the fresh-baked rolls for a steadier belly. Just trying to be smart.
Off to the airport so we could sit and wait for two hours until our plane is called (did I tell you that when we check in, we get a little sticker stuck onto our shirt? Each airline uses a different shape and color. I feel like a pre-schooler that lines up when my class is called for recess!) and once underway, we arrive in Yangon after an hour plus a few.
Oh, the heat! Back into the 90s with wicked city congestion. It takes us more than 45 minutes to get to Osaka noodle house, recommended by a food tour blogger and Lonely Planet. We actually sit without moving in traffic for 20 minutes, because of construction on the Sky Bridge. Our guide is rather put off by my request to go to this particular shop – he’s sure he knows one just as good. It’s an interesting phenomenon sometimes when we ask him a question and he goes into a long explanation on something tangentially related to the question, but doesn’t actually answer the question. I can’t decide if it’s a language thing, or a “he’s talking to a woman” thing. No matter.
Finally find the noodle house (after he stops at a couple of places to see if we’ve arrived, even though each time, I remind him this is not where I was told it would be) and he orders me a bowl of noodles. Evidently just one style, and they won a competition in 2001 for this particular noodle dish – Shwe Daung Khao swe noodles. A bowl of thin, freshly made noodles with broth and bits of pork. Alongside are small condiment bowls filled with red chili oil, lime wedges, fried noodle bits (kind of like chow mein noodles), something weird looking that is evidently akin to fried coconut cream, and a large bowl filled with the ever-present shaved raw cabbage, cilantro and shallots.
Mmmmmm…worth all the aggravation to get here.
Valerie watches and smiles, nibbles on a bit of the fried noodles, and orders us a couple of sodas (pictures later, please be patient). As I spoon out the last drops, I declare “I am more sorry to be finishing this than anything I’ve eaten during the entire trip”. That pretty much says it all.
Back in the car, we head over to the Scott Market, the smaller, more jewelry-focused little sister tot he Grand Bazaar in Istanbul. So many counters of gold, silver and jade jewelry, plus lots of precious stones, evidently very abundant in Myanmar.
As you branch out from the main drag on either side, were little stalls of silk fabrics, textiles, mother-of-pearl items, tschotskes, etc etc.
Valerie and I walk together for a while, assessing offerings, then split up to get our chores done. I wander from jeweler to jeweler, looking for jade earrings, since that is one of the things the country is known for (along with rubies, but I scored those in India). After finishing the circuit, I return to one counter and start trying on some earrings. Not as smoothly finished as those I’d find in the US, but they had some stunning moonstone drop clusters – and alas, more than I’m willing to spend, particularly on something for special occasions only. Found another, simpler pair with amethyst and rubies, and sealed the deal (although a bit of buyer’s remorse when they accepted my first offer of 55% of asking).
As soon as my money came out, so did the red carpet: they brought me a choice of cold soda or water (and getting any drink chilled is a rare treat), an ice cold wet towel, and a bowl of candy. All greatly appreciated! I took my bounty and set off to find Valerie. I did, and we headed out to meet our guide.
Back in the car, we drive a few blocks to the Sule pagoda, right in the center of town, with cars driving around it just like the Arc de Triomphe. We park nearby, and review some of the government buildings and the monument built to celebrate independence, somewhat reminiscent of the Place de la Concorde and bringing to my mind the observation that there is indeed no end to the opportunities seized to construct large memorials of a certain shape.
Our final foray is a driving tour around the waterfront to see all the colonial buildings and maritime commercial areas. The buildings are pretty much all beautiful and all run down. If they cared to, a bit of restoration would have the place looking like New Orleans.
Dropped off at the hotel, we check in our rooms (yay for luxury and air conditioning!), take quick showers (how do we end up feeling like stuck together dust balls by the end of each day?), and head down to the lobby in time for high tea, which was recommended by a friend of Marcia Boxman (Valerie’s mom, for those not in the know). AWESOME! We each have our own teapot, and share a tower of pastries, sweets and Asian goodies, plus a large bowl of….you guessed it! noodle soup with shrimp, chicken, hard-boiled egg, plus a delicious broth that tastes peanut-y, but not. Mmmm. We have our floor-length summer dresses on and feeling just so, so, well, enjoying the finer things in life, as it were.
Tired from our action-packed, early-rising days, we decide to adjourn upstairs to the boudoir, read up on Siem Reap and upcoming adventures, before conking early in anticipation of our 6 am wake-up call. Nighty night!