I write this, in haste, at the end of a hectic week in the Union of Myanmar (which used to be called Burma). The easiest way into and out of Burma is probably by flying between Bangkok and Yangon (which used to be 'Rangoon' hence the airline ticketing code 'RGN').
Tuesday 25th August 2009
I had a good flight from Bangkok to Yangon with Thai Airways. It's only an hour from take-off to landing but they manage to serve a decent cold meal. It was almost dark as we came 'over the fence' at Yangon but I spotted an anti-clockwise diesel-hauled Circle Line train starting away from the nearly station. As we approached the international terminal, I noticed that the blue illuminated sign read 'YANGON INTER...NAL AIRPORT'. I had carefully completed all the required arrival forms before we landed but somehow managed to lose the special 'Influenza' medical form they use between the aircraft and the arrival hall. By the time I'd filled in a replacement, I was well down the queue for immigration but I got through without further incident, retrieved my bag and was waved through customs. I soon met Mr. Win, the 'Road To Mandalay' guide from the last trip and, together with a lady from Sydney (joining a party of ladies to celebrate the 50th birthday of one of them by taking the 'Road to Mandalay' cruise) we set off in a 'People Carrier' for the Strand Hotel. I received a warm welcome from the staff and, after a brief look at the room and making arrangements for an early call and breakfast, went to look for the internet.
Google Mail seemed to work but I was not altogether surprised to find that I could neither write to nor read blogs. Suddenly a 'Chat' window opened with 'Nyi Lwin' calling. When he identified his location as Mandalay, I realised it was the helpful Shipping Agent who'd helped me on my last trip. "I'll be in Mandalay tomorrow", I sent. "Really?" came the incredulous reply. "Really", I confirmed. So he left me his mobile number to enable me to make contact.
Wednesday 26th August 2009
I slept well in the huge bed but had to get up at 4.45 a.m. My alarm call was on time, breakfast in my room was exactly as ordered so I was ready to leave at 5.45 a.m. when Maung Win, the guide, arrived. The ten miles to the airport was quickly covered and boarding cards were ready for us. Nicholas, from the Orient Express office in Yangon, was on hand and San, one of the guides from my first trip on 'Road to Mandalay'. I learned that Mr. Win was also flying to Mandalay with us to act as one of the cruise guides. We chatted for a minute before I went into the departure hall. It's a little basic in Domestic Departures so I was quite pleased when our flight was called. We were loaded onto a non-air conditioned transfer bus for the very short journey onto the apron where our Yangon Airways ATR 72-210 waited. This is an advanced turbo-prop design with 2+2 seating.
It took about 75 minutes to fly north to Mandalay at 20,000 feet. We landed using very little of Mandalay's runway (the longest in south east Asia), took the high-speed turn-off and had soon parked on the apron. Again, a bus took us the short distance to the large, deserted terminal. We made our way outside to the car park and the 'Road to Manadalay' contingent boarded two (or was it three?) buses. Win was guide on our bus, San took another and Mi Mi, the German speaking guide, a third. We didn't go straight to the boat. We headed for the area of Amarapura and the market at Tagundaing. We wandered around crowded market, greeted by friendly smiles from the curious locals. Market pictures. A short drive took us to nearby Maha Ganda Yong teaching monastery. This is a large establishment, currently under extension, where young trainees abide by the ten Rules of Conduct of the order founded by the Venerable Janakabhivamsa:-
FIRST: To have a kindly disposition.
SECOND: To observe the Monastic Code of Discipline.
THIRD: To keep good health.
FOURTH: To keep clean.
FIFTH: To know how to dress.
SIXTH: To know how to behave.
SEVENTH: To kow how to talk.
EIGHTH: To know how to behave.
NINTH: To obey the rules.
TENTH: To be literate.
We briefly looked at the kitchens where men were engaged in preparing the huge amounts of food consumed by the monks and trainees. The first bell sounded for the second (and last) meal of the day at noon and people started to form up in two queues. At the second bell, the queues moved quickly as food was served and people took their seats in the refectory. In a surprisingly short time, the food was eaten, the food bowls washed (a task which monks must personally attend to) and people were streaming back to continue their studies. Monastery pictures.
It was only a short drive from the monastery to the 'Road to Mandalay' dock at Shwe Kyet Yet. Externally, the ship looked the same but internally significant changes have been made and the cabins have been completely remodelled. They have retained around 80% of the original staff so, for me, it was like a homecoming. The Captain and the Ship's Doctor were there in uniform to welcome the guests with Esther the hotel manager and a host of faces I instantly recognised. A German film crew was present - I learned that they would accompany us on the journey so as to make a travel documentary and promotional DVD for Orient Express. Within moments, I was led to my room a few yards from the reception desk. No expense has been spared in offering passengers an attractive ambience in which to spend a few days. The not-unpleasant smell of new paint was detectable because this trip will be a 'Maiden Voyage'. Technically, this is the third such voyage - the first was in Germany in 1964 where the ship operated on the Rhine, the second when she was inaugurated as 'Road to Manadalay' on the Ayerwaddy River (which the English called the 'Irrawaddy' and now this trip, following repairs after the damage sustained during Cyclone Nargis. For this 'shakedown cruise', only around thirty passengers are being carried soth and about 40 returning north, against a capacity of 82. There was time to tour the facilities and chat with crew and passengers before a buffet lunch was served. I then spent some time with the Doctor, discussing his experiences doing medical charity work following the Cyclone, before setting off with Maung Win in a coach to look at Mandalay City. The energetic Country Manager of Orient Express in Myanmar, Franz Von Merhart, was on the ship for this first cruise and he accompanied us on this and a number of tours.
First stop was the ‘Street of the Marble Carvers’. The ship had managed to get in touch with Nyi Lwin who’d arranged some shipping for me on my last trip and I’d been given a shop number where he’d be. While Mr. Win showed the group some of the products on offer, I walked ahead looking for shop numbers. Suddenly, someone spoke to me – “I’m who you’re looking for” and it was Nyi Lwin. His wife came out of the shop with their lovely eight-month old daughter and we chatted for a few minutes until the tour group caught up with us. When I held their daughter, she laid her head on my chest and seemed quite comfortable. I was reluctant to hand her back and say goodbye.
Next stop was the famous Mahamuni Temple, which is always crowded with worshippers and has a long arcade of stalls. Franz was concerned at the juxtaposition of the sacred and the mundane and felt that some of his customers might be disturbed at what they saw.
We moved to a small gold leaf workshop. Whereas most gold leaf is now made by machine, in Myanmar the traditional, labour-intensive manual process is still found where the timing of each period of beating is carried out by a simple ‘water clock’ where half of a coconut shell with a small timing hole sits in a bowl of water. The shell fills with water until it is no longer buoyant – the sudden sinking of the shell indicates the end of the timing period. In another room, ladies cut the finished gold leaf into squares and stack them, each square interleaved with paper, for sale. A nearby shop displayed various snakeskins and animal skins used for making belts and similar items. Distasteful as I find the trade, I cannot be superior since I wear leather shoes.
Another drive in our coach took us to ‘The World’s Largest Book’, as accepted by the Guiness Book of Superlatives. The Kuthodaw Pagoda features line upon line of small white-painted pagodas, each carrying a page of Buddhist scripture engraved on a stone tablet.
Pictures of ‘The World’s Largest Book’.
By the time we reached the famous wooden Shwenandaw Monastery, it had already closed for the day so, after studying the ancient structure from outside the enclosing wall, we drove through the city and south back to Amarapura, site of the famous Ubain Bridge across the lake. This bridge is built of teak and is, I believe, 1.4 km in length. Last time I was here, I took a small boat cruise on the lake, criss-crossing under the bridge. This time, I determined to walk on the bridge so I set off at a good pace. I was not sure whether the time allowed would let me complete the crossing and return. A 14-year old girl attached herself to me and together we crossed the bridge. She proudly explained that she was a Monitor at school. She will go far – we’d walked over 1 km before she revealed that she was selling necklaces and it was clear that she intended to do the complete 2.8 km trek in order to close a deal. We made it to dry land on the far side of the bridge, having agreed a sale. For the return journey, a younger girl, aged around 11, joined us. By the time we were back at the coach, I had purchased three necklaces, impressed with the efforts that these young people are prepared to expend to make a sale. As it became dark, we returned to the ship for dinner. After dinner, we were entertained by a Yamayana play dramatising traditional Hindu epic adventures of Yama.
Thursday 27th August 2009
I ordered early morning tea in my cabin, intending to leave at 6:40 a.m. to see the offering of Alms to the monks at the local Monastery. Mr. Win led a small party across the main road and to the monastery where the Captain and members of the crew had set up a table of food. The monks were lining up to receive the food and the film crew were on hand to record the event.
We returned on foot to the ship, to leave again soon after to drive to a nearby village which is involved in making pottery. Walking along the dusty track through the village, watched by curious children and passed by occasional bullock carts, we were transported to a totally different way of life. Various pottery artefacts were laid outside the bamboo houses to dry in the sun. We were intrigued by row after row of closed jars with a straight slot near the top – these are money boxes, smaller ones for children, larger, more decorated ones for older people saving for their retirement.
Although I've visited Myanmar twice before, this country retains the power to amaze and delight. I'll tell you more of my experiences on this trip next time.
