A rude awakening at 3:45 am for bed tea and a scramble to leave for the airport at 4:30. Great run through the city as very few about. A trend seems to be emerging with these early starts. Clive calls it Cheryl's Boot Camp Tour. The domestic terminal at the airport could not have been more unlike the international. It seems that all flights depart within the same half hour period to anywhere within the country so there is an amazing crush of mainly foreign passengers and a cacophony of unintelligible announcements. Chaos reigned at the Air Mandalay counter and one wasn't sure if you were checked in for the correct flight. The baggage conveyor is actually a person at this terminal (actually they have quite a few baggage conveyors) who have to jostle their way through the queued up check in queues - I guess the concept of moving the desk forward a metre and conveying the bags behind the counter hasn't yet made it here. Further pandemonium awaited us in the "departure lounge", a term used quite lightly. It was heaving and you had to rely on the unintelligible PA system or on a little man running up and down the room holding a board with your flight number on it. Never mind, we eventually got on the correct plane. You have to go a lot by instinct - fortunately there seems to be only one departure gate and they put stickers on you as well as your bags so you don't get on the wrong plane. Needless to say, it was amusing and helped to pass the time. The plane at least flew and landed in the usual fashion.

Bagan airport made Yangon's domestic terminal seem cutting-edge. No little tugs to pull the baggage carts from the Tarmac to the terminal here - just porters, and the bags came in two by two (like Noah's Ark), but to do it justice our two came together and that never happens with those new-fangled conveyor systems.

The rest of the day was declared a rest day in view of the four horribly early starts so far.