The Golden Rock

Our last adventure in Myanmar turned out to be a wee bit crazy. In my research of memorable places to visit I read that the Golden Rock was a unique and culturally significant religious site. This shrine lies on top of a mountain to which many Buddhist make a pilgrimage every year. A gigantic rock somehow (by a miracle?) is balanced on the edge of a cliff, looking like at any moment it could come tumbling down. There is a story in Buddhist literature about its discovery by an ancient king who built a palace nearby. In the story, at first the rock seemingly floats above the ground with space big enough for a bird to fly beneath, then as mankind becomes less and less moral, the space becomes smaller and smaller until now a hair can barely pass between the rock and ground. The rock has been painted gold and believers put squares of gold leaf onto it to build personal merit.

To get to this Golden Rock is quite the ordeal but we were game! After a smooth transfer from the hotel at Inle Lake by boat, car and then a short flight back to Yangon, we were picked up by our new local guide and drove for about 3 hours to the base of the mountain (or base camp as our guide called it). We then were crammed into the open back of a large truck with all the locals -- 6 in a row on a bench times 6 rows. The truck would not leave until all seats were full so we waited about 40 minutes in the stifling heat feeling like sardines in a tin. 

Our transport to Golden Rock

We were driven up a windy narrow road to middle camp. The road was only big enough for one vehicle so drivers radioed ahead to make sure no vehicle was coming down. It was a terrifying 45 minute drive, to say the least. All tourists had to get out at the middle camp as the rest of the road to the top was too dangerous—the officials had decreed that only locals could be sacrificed! Us tourists had to walk the last hour up a steep and winding path lined with, naturally, souvenir and food shops. For those out-of-shape or lazy tourists (and we saw quite a few), young buff guys were standing by with a chair on poles and were willing to carry you up to the top. Not for us! We huffed and puffed our way to the top, watching a beautiful sunset each time we stopped to catch our breath.

It was dark when we reached our destination and we were surprised by 1) how many people were milling about; 2) how carnival-like the plaza surrounding the Rock was (flashing coloured and neon lights; and 3) how underwhelming the actual Rock was! Yes, it was big and gold, and you had to wonder how it continues to remain balanced on the edge. Apparently men make a big show of trying to push the rock off balance, but no one yet has succeeded! But really...it was just a big rock painted gold!

The Golden Rock

After wandering a bit and taking pictures, we checked into a hotel close by. We had packed an overnight bag and were extremely happy that we didn’t need to make the trek back down. The hotel itself was perched on the mountainside and wasn’t of note until we looked out the window the next morning to see the fabulous views of the countryside.

After breakfast we of course had to reverse the steps we took to get to the top – but at least we knew what to expect! When we reached base camp again, our car and driver were waiting and we began the long journey back to Yangon. We stopped to visit a few sights, including a snake pagoda (with a real sleeping python) and a market in Bago.

How to bribe a sleeping python for personal merit

We also stopped and wandered a war memorial site. It was actually quite impressive and very emotional. The grounds were huge, meticulously maintained and covered by row upon row of gravesites. At each was a plaque with the name, rank, age and country of a fallen soldier of WW2. Myanmar had been the scene of some brutal battles between the Japanese and Allies. I remember reading prior to this trip fictionalized but historically accurate accounts of the horrors the people of Myanmar endured and how many lives were lost at the hands of the Japanese.

Two older British women were wandering the memorial site as well and we stopped to chat about its significance. The women were there to honour an uncle who was buried at the site and to be at a Remembrance Day service scheduled there in a few days. When we came across some gravesites of young Canadians whose lives were sacrificed at virtually the same age as our own children, we were deeply moved and saddened. We left the memorial site for the airport, silent in our own thoughts, and thankful we live in a time and country of relative peace.

WW2 Memorial Grounds