#kinpun

Mt Kyaiktiyo Pagoda aka ‘Goldon Rock’.

The legend states that the Buddha gave a single strand of his hair to a local hermit, Taik Tha. When he became old, Taik Tha took the hair to his King and instructed that his gift be enshrined under a rock shaped like the hermit's head. Luckily, the King was the child of a magical being and a sea dragon, so he dove to the bottom of the ocean to find this rock. He built a boat (which turned to stone and can be seen roughly 300m from the Golden Rock itself) and brought the rock here, where it sits to this day, with nothing but a single hair from the Buddha to hold it in place.

I’d like to tell my story now.

There’s a town village at the base of this mountain called Kinpun. I traveled there by three hours on a bus, and twenty bouncy minutes in the back of a pick up truck.

Kinpun did not impress. I was the only western tourist in the whole village. The cheapest accommodation was twice what I paid anywhere else, for much more dire rooms. No mosquito net, cockroaches, mouse droppings in the bed, no hot water... I felt certain the proprietor was ripping me off but I had no other option. The only restaurant served tiny portions of bland food for three times what I paid in Yangon. A pack of about twenty stray dogs roamed the streets.

I slept with my bag in front of the door.

Normally I’m pretty chipper, and known to be a gentle, relaxed creature. And I will say that my travel experience was overall amazing, breathtaking, and magical, so excuse my account of self pity (but travel is not all pagodas and beaches, all the time).

About a week previously I had received some bad news from home. A childhood friend had died. The afternoon I got to Kinpun I had a message from someone I had been dating back home. They weren’t waiting, they were seeing someone else now.

I was not prepared for the isolation I felt in Kinpun. All of these factors turned me into a pretty miserable and lonely Reb, far away from home. All I wanted to do was get out of Kinpun, so I arranged to wake up at 5am to get the first truck up Mt Kyaiktiyo to see the famous Golden Rock, then come back down and get an 11:30am bus outta there.

Squeezing into the back of the super-sized pick up with about fourteen other people, we made the winding, roller-coaster journey to the top.

Being wet season in Myanmar, and so early in the day, the top of the mountain was incredibly foggy. But for me, this created a very special, eerie atmosphere. It was silent, apart from the padding of stray dogs, monks footsteps and chanting prayers floating through the mist. Women were already sat along the walkway selling fragrant bracelets made from raw sandalwood. It was beautiful.

If there’s anything to heal a troubled mind, it’s the foggy mountaintop of Kyaiktiyo at 7am. I don’t think it’s possible to be in that particular place and time and not feel an overwhelming sense of calm.