March this year, after a bit of prodding from fellow Filipino travel bloggers, I decided to join them in a seven-day Myanmar backpacking trip. Because internet in the country's notoriously known for being hair-pulling slow, I had to leave to the world wide web-dependent hubby in the Philippines. And because I can be quite annoying when I'm distant from my daughter (I have the tendency/skill to insert "I miss Luna" in every sentence I deliver!), I brought her with me.
It's our longest and craziest journey without her bubba, thus far.
It's our longest and craziest journey without her bubba, thus far.
As foretold, Luna began serving as a human gym equipment (what Ron of FlipTravels.com calls her) for Dong who chased her around NAIA Terminal 2 even before our motley crew checked in. Dong also babysat her at the boarding gate. Aboard the Kuala Lumpur bound flight though, when he was able to sit peacefully with the others away from us, Luna started bugging "Monster Marky" of NomadicExperiences.com who was seated by the aisle beside me.
Luna dozed off halfway into the flight after watching cartoons on her laptop. May seem awesome since I had some down time the rest of the plane ride, but you see, she slept through the whole hoopla of our arrival at Kuala Lumpur's Low Cost Carrier Terminal. Which meant me walking through the valley of the shadow of the brain-dead (that is the lengthy covered walkway to the terminal building where sleep-deprived travelers trudge on) with a sixteen-kilo baby doll in my arms. Thanks to Monster Marky's help, I didn't have to pull Luna's Hello Kitty carry-on stroller while doing so.
Marky's pretty cute with a Hello Kitty bag, he should travel more often with it.
Marky's pretty cute with a Hello Kitty bag, he should travel more often with it.
We exited the arrivals hall around midnight and met up with Ron who flew from Singapore and Robbie of TheTravelingDork.com who was then on a month-long backpacking trip. Our group grew to a whopping number of nine. At Taste Of Asia, we saw passengers slumbering on chairs. The restaurant staff, who were probably too sluggish themselves, did not make any effort to shoo them away so that's where we camped until our early morn check in for the Yangon-bound flight.
It's fortunate that I found a spot where Luna could lay on. It's unfortunate however, that I had to stay awake to make sure she doesn't roll off it.
Apart from seeing Luna's saddest face (ever) under the care of Marky and helping Robbie come up with cash to buy a pristine US$100 note (cause old ones are not accepted in Myanmar), everything else that transpired after checking in our second flight until our landing in Yangon is a blur to me. I believe I switched on autopilot mode the minute we stepped in the surprisingly modern Yangon International Airport.
Kaba Aye Pagoda, the first of many unplanned destinations. Photo by one of our travel mates Jerome of Balintataw.org
Hiring a van to take us all the way to Bagan was a unanimous decision — after some intense budget estimating. The "package" not only included a ride to the ancient city but also a short day trip around Yangon, plotted by a knowledgeable dictator guide we fondly called (behind his back) Moe Hitler. I was ecstatic that everyone agreed to this, because at that point, I knew I could easily pass out any second.
Pushy he may be but our guide Moe voluntarily acted as Luna's nanny during our Kaba Aye Pagoda visit, during lunch, and during shopping . Ain't that a kind gesture? Or maybe he just didn't want her to slow down the pace of our military march tour? Whatever. At least I was given a few occasions to catch my breath, and to fully enjoy the company of my pals.
Out of the countless dishes served, she chose to have saluyot (jute) soup for lunch.
The whole gang with Moe. From left: Dong, Monette, Ron, Moe, Me, Melo (Luna behind him), Jerome, Marky and Robbie.
Bagan Central Hotel marked the end of my twenty-nine-hour agony.
As early as the first day, I already learned my lesson: Backpacking with a two year-old at such pace without hubby is a kind of crazy I won't dive into again.
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