It was time to leave 'Road to Mandalay'. Our luggage had been collected early and this would magically re-appear when we got to Yangon. After the usual hearty breakfast, we said goodbye to the crew and went ashore for the last time. Our usual buses transported us to Mandalay Airport where we were rapidly checked in, said goodbye to our guides, and passed into the departure lounge to await our Yangon flight. I'd made a number of friends on the 'Road to Mandalay' with whom I flew back to Yangon. There we split up - the others were either taking a connecting flight that day or staying at the other top hotel in Yangon, the Governor's Residence. So I was taken to the Strand, to receive the usual warm welcome.
The Strand is very near the Yangon River which has a busy ferry service connecting Yangon itself to the other side. I'd intended to try this out on my first visit to Yangon, but didn't have enough time. There wasn't the opportunity to make this trip on my second visit to Burma either. So, this time, I determined to make the trip. Enquiring at the hotel, I discovered that circumstances have changed. Foreigners now need government permission to use the ferry (presumably because it provides a possible route into the Delta area devastated by Cyclone Nargis). Apparently, you had to present yourself in person with your passport at the Ministry of Tourism office to make an application. The office had apparently recently moved from the location shown on the City Map but, armed with some directions from the Strand staff, I set out on foot. After a little confusion, I located the Ministry of Tourism office.
Two ladies were serving at a long counter and they spoke quite good English. I was presented with a form letter and a blank sheet of paper. Apparently, I was to copy out the form letter in my own hand, substituting my own details. I had to promise to go only to the two nearest towns on the other side of the river, return the same day and undertake not to engage in political activity of any kind. I found the restrictions acceptable, so I duly copied out the letter. One of the ladies checked my letter and passport and, satisfied, filled out a pass and rubber stamped it. "I need two copies of this pass" she said. "How much will that be?" I enquired. "No, you go and get copies" she explained, and waved vaguely over the other side of the road, from which I understood that getting the copies was up to me. I crossed the road, but all I could see was food stalls. I walked in the direction she seemed to indicate and, after a minute or two, came across a small 'Copy Shop'. Armed with three copies, I returned to the ministry office. The lady took her file copies and I was left with the original and a copy, all set to make the trip the following morning.
I decided to explore a little more of Yangon on foot, purchasing a book and (another) map in an excellent bookshop with a reasonable English section. It took three friendly girl assistants to serve me and, although they all had some English, there was a lot of mutual incomprehension before the transaction was done. I toured the outside of the Sule Pagoda - a remarkable ancient temple, ringed with modern shops and forming an important traffic island in the middle of the city.
By this time, it was late afternoon and the evening rush hour appeared to be in progress. I decided to continue walking to the Governor's Residence, following a battered tourist map. My route took me fairly near the Circle Line railway, so I deliberately detoured to look at each station I passed, ending up at Pyay Road Station. All the trains I saw were crowded and most of the diesel locomotives sported a group of people riding on the front buffer beam, as the picture below illustrates.
Approaching the Governor's Residence, we were in an area with a number of Embassies or Missions. By far the largest was the Chinese Embassy, which reminded me of a high-security prison.
The Governor's Residence Hotel is a large, teak-built affair in carefully-tended gardens. I spent some time there talking to a number of my new friends, before deciding that I really needed to get a taxi back to the Strand to get some rest.
