Ferry to Dalla

The former capital of Myanmar, Yangon (called 'Rangoon' by the British) is a fascinating, cosmopolitan place. But I'd not been across the Yangon River to see what's there. I'd seen the ferries crossing from the other side. I'd seen the passengers teeming off the ferry and making their way into the city. Now, armed with a Government Permit, I hoped to see for myself.

One feature of all the maps I'd seen of Yangon was the lack of any detail as to what lay of the other side of the river. Although separated from the City by a ferry crossing of only a few minutes, as far as the cartographers were concerned, it was a 'Terra Incognita'. I'd found out that the area was termed 'Dalla Township', mustering a population of one million! It appeared to be where a lot of Yangon's workers lived, commuting daily on the ferries.

I had a fairly leisurely breakfast at the Strand before walking to the Ferry Terminal, only a few hundred yards from the hotel. I first approached a ticket collector on the ramp leading to the landing stage but, seeing my Government Permit, he directed me to a ticket office at the far end of the adjacent Waiting Room. At the ticket window, I presented my Permit again but, with the shake of his head, he pointed further along. There was no other ticket window, just a door which opened as I approached. Some sort of supervisor (with reasonable English) studied my pass carefully and the laboriously wrote out two tickets (one to go, one to come back) in a triplicate book. Foreigners are charged a significant multiple of the local price (the situation was the same when I travelled on the Circle Line) but it's still good value compared with transport at home.

I waited patiently with the other passengers until the ferry docked and most of the arriving passengers had disembarked, then we were allowed down the ramp and onto the rather battered-looking ferry. By the time everybody was aboard, the ship was fairly full but not crush-loaded. We cast off and made our way across the channel. Looking upstream, I could see the transit sheds of the original port. The 'Rahman-Noor-Rahim', registered in Chittagong, was loading timber onto her aft deck, presumably having already filled the hold. Numerous small river-taxis buzzed in every direction and there were various cargo ships moored in mid-channel. We passed the other ferry on our route heading for the Yangon Landing Stage. Soon, we were tying up to the Dalla Landing Stage and there was quite a crowd waiting to board for the return journey. I made my way up the ramp and outside. There were shops, buses, taxis and cycle-rickshaws touting for business and people - lots of people. Everybody seemed in a hurry to get where they were going. I realised that, having got this far, I had no idea what to do next!

At first, I shook my head at the various forms of transport offered to me. Then, I realised I would see nothing without local help, so I negotiated with one of the cycle rickshaw drivers who had been persistent but not offensive. Yes, he would take me round Dalla for a few U.S. Dollars for 30 minutes. The rate was quite a multiple of what locals would pay, but it turned out to be a good decision. The driver spoke good English and made quite a competent tourist guide, so I spent over two hours touring the spread-out town. It's more like a series of interconnected villages with lots of greenery and a wide variety of building styles, all fairly modest. A long, straight well-surfaced road led away from the ferry terminal, but soon we turned off, crossing an elderly Bailey Bridge with a pronounced sag in the middle. We cycled parallel to a creek where a number of the brightly-painted and sleek-looking water taxis were being repaired on the muddy bank. A foreigner being cycled through a roadside market always attracts attention, but the people are invariably friendly and just curious. We stopped for photographs by a bridge over the creek near what appeared to be a water-taxi 'rank' - dozens of boats pulled up on the mud with people milling about. A number of locals, particularly children, collected round the cycle-rickshaw and were fascinated to see pictures of themselves. It's pleasant that they rarely beg for money or sweets.

As you can imagine, it can be quite hard work for the cycle-rickshaw driver but mine assured me he could keep going all day. Few of these drivers own the rickshaw - they rent them for around a dollar a day. It's a tough way of making a living, but they can sustain a family with this kind of work.

We stopped by a large Buddhist temple complex. Although it was raining, I decided to explore the various temples. It didn't appear to be that old, but it was clearly well-used. Because dilapidations are made good fairly promptly at well-endowed temples and structures are regularly re-painted, it's easy to be misled about the age of temples. I took a number of pictures before we returned to the cycle-rickshaw.

We passed the shipbuilding yard of Inland Water Transport - quite a large undertaking then another Bailey Bridge took us through another 'village'. In any community, you'll always find a teashop and they always seem quite well patronised - the Burmese love to sit and talk. More roadside stalls, young children playing in the stream, women working in the rice fields - an amazing contrast with central Yangon. A fisherman was standing in the stream, occasionally casting his large net. Two young women were doing the family wash in rainwater puddles at the side of the road, completely unembarrassed. We came to a junction with a rather stained concrete clocktower. An elaborate system of props had been added, presumably to delay its likely collapse.

My driver stopped and pointed to a series of derelict-looking sheds with lots of women milling about. "Market" he said, and suggested I have a look round. I'm always amazed at the range of goods available at these markets - fruit, vegetables, chicken, fish, hardware and fancy goods. In contrast, just a few feet from one row of stalls, there was a large waste dump including discarded food.

We cycled away from the market, passing a pool with a sign proudly displaying (in English and Burmese) "This pond was rehabilitated with support from the European Union". Next, we passed a Monastery with an impressive gilded entrance arch. Then we watched another fisherman casting his net in a stream. He pulled the net ashore and squatted to check the catch. This time, it was only one tiny, almost translucent fish.

We'd come back to the Yangon River and large, sea-going fishing boats were beached here. A little further and we reached another village with the usual tea-houses and local people happily passing time. There was a very old Hindu Temple here, apparently closed-up, situated in overgrown grounds serving as an adventure playground for a number of local children. The houses here were mainly of wood, so I assumed the nearby watchtower was a fire look-out. In contrast, St. Michaels Church was a well-built and well-maintained structure.

We passed a crudely-built roadside table for drying charcoal then many more houses and shops, many built on short piles and surrounded by water used for growing rice and similar crops. In most cases, an insecure-looking wooden walkway led across the water garden from the road to the building.

At a T-Junction, we found a number of cycle-rickshaws waiting for hire, with the drivers passing time in the inevitable Tea-House. The exchanges between my driver and the waiting drivers were, of course, in Burmese but I formed the impression that my driver was much-admired for having snared himself a high-paying foreigner. There are many small lorries fitted with tilt covers used as minibuses in Burma, but I'd never seen one before carrying a coffin! I probably wouldn't have realised the vehicle was doing duty as a hearse, had my driver not drawn it to my attention.

Shortly, we stopped outside another Hindu Temple, but this one gaily painted on the outside. My driver hailed the caretaker who didn't look too pleased at the prospect of opening up for a tourist, but a small donation to the temple changed his attitude completely and after I'd walked round the temple, he fetched the Holy Water from the Inner Temple so that he could administer the Blessing. In sign language, he showed me how to receive the Blessing and we parted good friends.

Next door, there was a large Mosque - the Rahmath Mosque, highly decorated outside and very striking in white and pale blue. My cycle-rickshaw journey which had revealed so many contrasts in Dalla was now almost over. We rejoined the main road and soon arrived back at the bustle of the Ferry Terminal. I happily paid off my driver/guide and presented my return ferry ticket for inspection before going onto the landing stage to watch the approaching ferry berth. The short ferry crossing safely returned me to Yangon City and a few minutes walk took me back to the comfort of the Strand Hotel.

Pictures of the Yangon River Ferry.
Pictures around Dalla.
Pictures of Dalla Temple.

Back to Yangon

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.

More pictures of the circle line.

Visit to an Orphanage, Myanmar

On the 1st September 2009, I was part of a small group of passengers from the 'Road to Mandalay' who made a day trip to Maymyo. On the way, we made a visit to a large Orphanage partly supported by donations from 'Road to Mandalay' passengers.

This Orphanage now cares for over 500 children. The Monk who founded and now runs the Orphanage received us in the large Assembly Hall where we enjoyed tea and biscuits sitting on the floor. With our guide Mr. Win translating, I asked the Monk how he coped with the stress of taking responsibility for all the needs of so many children. "Meditation" came the simple reply.

Since its founding, the Orphanage has grown significantly to cater for the heavy demand and we saw more new buildings under construction. A lot of the development appeared to be based on the simple faith that, if the need is there, the resources will appear to fund the project. This Orphanage has certainly been successful in attracting support from a wide range of donors, including significant help from donors in Japan.

The Monk took us on a conducted tour, first visiting a kitchen, where two rice boilers were producing the next meal. Next, we looked at the vegetable gardens; where possible, the Orphanage grows its own food. Then we entered one of the large schoolrooms where we were mobbed by excited young children. Whilst we were there, a tropical rainstorm lashed the corrugated iron roof and we extended our visit a little until the rain abated. Then we rejoined our bus to continue our trip to Maymyo, watched by hundreds of waving children.

More pictures.

Day trip to Maymyo

The extensive market at Maymyo

With our arrival at Shwe Kyet Yet on the previous day, our cruise had come to its close. But our adventures were not yet quite ended. The main feature of Tuesday was a trip by road to visit the hill town of Maymyo.

Before leaving for Maymyo, a walking tour had been arranged through the village of Shwe Kyet Yet to observe the offering of Alms to the Monks at the local monastery. This is a ceremony I have seen before but the simple dignity never fails to impress me, so I joined the walking tour to watch once again.

At seven o'clock, a long line of monks emerged from the monastery to make a circuit of the village accepting offerings of food from the villagers. The 'Road to Mandalay' had set up a table with generous amounts of food just outside the monastery. As usual, the Captain and members of the crew were on hand to distribute food to the monks to supplement the other offerings made by the villagers.

Although it had been dry for the Alms giving, we had not travelled far in our usual bus towards Maymyo before we were driving through heavy rain which stayed with us for most of the morning.

On our way to Maymyo, we made a slight detour to visit an Orphanage partly supported by the 'Road to Mandalay'. The visit is described in a separate post.

We pulled up opposite a small temple whilst the driver's assistant braved the rain to cross the road and perform the appropriate ritual to ensure a safe journey. He returned in a minute or two with a small bunch of special flowers which were hung up in the front window of the bus. Meanwhile, Mr. Win had purchased a bunch of small, fragrant flowers from a (rather damp) roadside vendor which he divided between the ladies in the party. Thus prepared, we continued our journey. Maymyo is reached after quite a steep climb into the mountains on a heavily-used road with some fairly hairy sections. To improve matters, a large part of the route has had a second carriageway added, sometimes close to the original road, sometimes striking off to find its own route, often at a different level.

This is a privately-owned road and the Chinese businessman who funded these road improvements has tolls collected at various toll stations. At one modern-looking toll station, I was intrigued that a couple of Burmese were stationed in the rain, actually collecting the money and issuing receipts. They were just outside a purpose-built toll office occupied by a Chinese who was able to keep nice and dry to whom each toll was passed for safe keeping. By employing trusted Chinese in this way, the owner seeks to avoid any 'skimming' of the toll income.

By the time we arrived in Maymyo, the weather was noticeably cooler, although the rain had stopped for a while. We disembarked from the bus outside the large Market and spent some time exploring the variety of stalls in both the inside and outside markets. There is a significant Muslim population in Maymyo and this was apparent in walking around the market. In the vegetable market, I was greeted by one of the stallholders in perfect English. He explained that, although born into a Muslim family, he had learned English in the Catholic School he attended as a child. Having completed his education, he reverted to Islam.

Outside the Market, two covered horse-drawn carriages were waiting to take us on a 'city tour'. As it immediately started to rain heavily again, it was fortunate that the carriages were covered. Moving out of the centre of the town, we passed the British Colonial style dwellings - substantial buildings with chimneys set in extensive grounds. It was rather reminiscent of Simla in India. We stopped outside the Chinese Temple and were invited to make a visit but the rain was so torrential that we all agreed to carry on to the hotel where we were to have lunch. On arrival, the rain had all but stopped so there was time to make friends with the horse. I was fascinated with one feature of the carriage - a large piece of sacking had been fixed loosely between the shafts immediately behind the horse so as to collect the horse manure!

The hotel was a nicely-restored British villa with a series of modern chalets in the gardens to increase accommodation. It was a very peaceful location, close to the Botanical Gardens and both the food and service were excellent.

After lunch, we were driven the short distance to the entrance of the National Botanical Gardens. The site is kept in excellent condition with lots of interesting exhibits so, far from being bored, I would happily have spent longer there. There was intermittent rain but not enough to spoil the tour. Amongst many attractions, there is a large 'walk-through aviary', a Bamboo Garden, an 'Orchard' of edible plants and a wooden walkway through a swamp environment. I would have liked to ascend the modern 'Watchtower' but time did not permit this. However, I did see my first Takin - a sort of goat/antelope found in Myanmar, Bhutan and neighbouring parts of India and China. All-in-all, the visit to the Botanical Gardens was very worthwhile.

Back in the bus, we'd agreed to visit the railway station before leaving Maymyo. We entered the town just as schools were finishing so, for a time, the roads were filled with young people, mainly walking but with a few lucky ones being picked up on mopeds. The single-storey station building clearly showed its British origins. There were lots of people milling about although there was no sign of a passenger train. As we were getting ready to leave,a goods train arrived and started to shunt. By this time, it was raining hard again. Pictures of the station are in the set More Railways in Burma.

On the way back to the ship, we stopped to explore an extensive roadside market where Mr. Win purchased vegetables for his wife. We stopped again as the road started to descend to the plains and the rain held off whilst we took in the impressive views. Tired but happy we returned to the ship for our farewell dinner and the last night aboard.

Pictures of Maymyo and the journey.
Pictures of the Botanical Gardens.

Sailing back to Mandalay

Sunday, 30th August

'Road to Mandalay' cast off from its midstream mooring at Bagan around 10:00 a.m. to sail upstream back to Mandalay. Some of the passengers from the downstream journey had left the ship, new passengers had joined and some, like the writer, were making the round trip.

Buffet lunch was served on the top deck, afternoon tea in the Piano Bar and, as it became dark, the ship dropped anchor midstream for the night. After cocktails on the top deck, dinner was served in the restaurant. After dinner, we hurried to the top deck for the 'Surprise on the River'. Hundreds of tiny rafts each carrying a lighted candle appeared upstream and, carried by the current, swarmed past the ship on both sides to disappear downstream. The effect was quite delightful and moving. The Piano Bar remained open late for after dinner drinks. Such are the rigours of shipboard life.

Monday, 31st August

Sunrise was at 5:52 a.m. and the ship had set sail before 6:30 a.m. After breakfast, a leisurely morning was spent watching the ever-changing scene along the river. Once again, lunch was served on the top deck.

The sense of anticipation grew as we approached Mandalay and, with the kind permission of the Captain, I was on the ship's bridge as the British-built road and rail bridge appeared ahead. There's not much clearance for the 'Road to Mandalay' under this bridge and the ship's short mast was lowered into a horizontal position beforehand.

We then passed under the new recently-completed road bridge and made our final approach to the 'Road to Mandalay' private dock. The Voith-Sneider propulsion system allowed the Captain to bring the ship sideways very slowly to the dock then shore parties struggled with the heavy mooring ropes to finally secure the ship.

Very soon, passengers were making their way to the coaches for a road trip to Sagaing. The television crew was on hand to record the event. On this occasion, I didn't take the coach trip because Doctor Hla Tun had invited me to accompany him on a visit to one of the Monastic Schools supported by passengers from the 'Road to Mandalay'.

Everybody was back on board in plenty of time for dinner and there was after dinner entertainment showing various Tribal Costumes of Myanmar.

Pictures

Cruising the Ayerwaddy.
Arriving at Shwe Kyet Yet.
Monastic School No. 21.

The Second Occasional Meeting of the Bagan Cycling Club

On Sunday, I took breakfast reasonably early because I was going ashore for a while before the ship cast off at 10:00 a.m. to cruise back upstream to Mandalay. I can do no better than quote the Minutes of the Bagan Cycling Club:-

"The Second Occasional Meeting of the Bagan Cycling Club took place on Sunday, 30th August 2009. The Founder Members from the Inaugural Meeting (our two young Burmese cycling enthusiasts and Honorary Secretary Jan Ford) were present and were delighted to welcome a New Member - Mister Bruno. The objective was to cycle across part of the Bagan Plain using minor roads and stopping to examine some of the smaller temples. Splendid machines had been provided and an excellent Tour was undertaken, cut short only by the need to return to the 'Road to Mandalay' before Sailing Time. All the participants agreed that they had enjoyed the event and looked forward to the next Meeting. Jan Ford, Honorary Secretary."

Pictures of the event are here. Safely back on board the 'Road to Mandalay', the rest of the day was largely 'at leisure' as we retraced our route northwards.

Ti Pu Village

After we'd visited Mount Popa and enjoyed an excellent lunch, it was agreed that we'd visit Ti Pu, one of the villages where 'Road to Mandalay' guests have assisted with funding for school buildings. It had rained earlier in the day and there was concern over whether our bus could make the two-mile trip over an unsurfaced track to reach the village. I expressed confidence that, if necessary, we'd walk from the main road. When we came to the featureless turning to Ti Pu, the bus parked and waited with those guests who were happy to stay on the bus whilst the rest of us set off on foot. In contrast with Mount Popa, it was quite warm and dry so spirits were quite high.

Meanwhile, the Doctor had been making plans on his mobile phone and he announced that the head man at the village was sending transport for us. We carried on walking until a high-pitched buzz announced the approach of a moped from the village, with a monk on the pillion seat. We wondered quite how we'd fit on the moped but, apparently, this was just the advance party to assure us that a larger vehicle was on its way. After a few minutes a large and ancient lorry appeared. Two of us squeezed into the cab and the others scrambled up into the rear. We appreciated the lift but it has to be said that the engine was very noisy and the comfort minimal.

When we arrived at the village, quite a crowd had assembled to greet us. The monastery complex was perhaps the largest building, followed by a government-provided building with a number of classrooms for the primary school. But, to deal with pupils beyond Grade 5, two more buildings (each with two classrooms) had been provided by the 'Road to Mandalay' charity, through the generosity of guests on the ship. About the same sum of money was expended on each of the buildings, but inflation meant that the later building, although serviceable and welcome, lacked some of the refinements of the earlier building.

The earlier 'Road to Mandalay' building at Ti Pu.

The more recent 'Road to Mandalay' building at Ti Pu.

The monk introduced the headmaster and one of the teachers. Doctor Hla Tun translated as the monk and teaching staff had very little English but their eagerness to give the local children the best possible educational opportunities was clear.

The Headmaster of Ti Pu Schools

The Head Monk and one of the Teachers at Ti Pu

In rural areas like this, it's quite common for children to walk for two hours in the morning to reach school and face a similar journey home after school. Classes in the higher Grades may not be available at all, hence the importance of providing assistance to extend existing schools. 'Road to Mandalay' always operate through local monks who are both respected and can motivate local people. Donated money goes quite a long way as, when there's building work to be done, the whole village comes together to help. Government funds for teachers' salary and teaching materials can be erratic and so, when the need arises, the 'Road to Mandalay' charity will try to help.

We spent a little more time with the children and some of the villagers before clambering back onto the lorry for the uncomfortable ride back to our bus, patiently waiting for us on the tarmac road. When you make a visit like this, it's impossible not to be moved by the dignity of these people and natural to want to help in some small way. More pictures of Ti Pu.

Mount Popa, Myanmar

On this trip too much was happening and, at this point, I failed to keep the postings up-to-date so I didn't write the following report until I was safely back home.

Saturday 29th August 2009

It’s a fairly intensive schedule because on Saturday we were offered a whole day trip to Mount Popa by road. Of course, if they prefer, people could stay on the ship and sunbathe, swim, take a spa treatment, use the gym or just sit and read in the Observation Lounge. All the trips were so well organised that I was reluctant to miss any of them. Each trip showed a different aspect of this fascinating country.

The view of Taung Kalat from the Mount Popa Resort

So, around 9.00 a.m. we set off in the usual tour bus with the usual driver, driver's assistant and Mr. Win as our guide. A second bus travelled independently. Before we even joined the main road, our bus managed to 'snag' an overhead cable and bring it down. We stopped and, looking out of the back window of the bus, I could see a couple of cables caught on a spotlight mounted on the roof of the bus. A long bamboo pole appeared from somewhere and the cables were quickly disentangled. I couldn't follow what happened next but, within minutes, we continued on our journey. I was left wondering if the cables were live and who would re-instate them but I'm afraid I never found out.

Our journey took us over a reasonable road through flat, dry farmland with the occasional village or small town. Many of the houses we passed were just bamboo but I was puzzled that a number of them featured rectangular brick-built chimneys. When we stopped, the explanation became clear. We stopped at a 'Toddy Palm Plantation' where the sap of this particular palm provides the raw material for distilling a potent rum-type drink which Mr. Win referred to as 'daiquiri'. Although I knew the term 'Toddy', I'd no idea that this industry existed not only in Myanmar but in a number of countries. There's a Wikipedia Article on the topic.

We'd stopped near a collection of the Toddy Palms with a large open-sided bamboo 'shed' forming the production area. A one-bullock 'mill' was set up nearby. This is an overgrown pestle and mortar made from wood where the grinding power comes from a bullock which is harnessed to walk in a circle under the control of the miller who rides on a horizontal board. We were given the opportunity to have our photograph taken on this contraption and have a ride on the horizontal board. The bullock seemed perfectly content to perform for these strange visitors.

The productive trees had bamboo ladders tied to them so that the young lads who harvest them could quickly climb the palm, make thin slices using a sharp knife and collect the sap in a number of pots suspended from their belt before returning to the ground.

Moving inside the bamboo shed, we could see a number of crude stills, connected to the brick chimneys visible outside and other brick fireplaces where sugar was being boiled in metal pans. The sugar-boiling was being overseen by two ladies seated on the earth floor and making the most exquisite decorations and a whistle (!) from bamboo, pausing occasionally to add a few small pieces of bamboo to the fire. A large tray of brown sugar 'sweets' was drying in another part of the shed.

The distillation process involves the liquor being heated in a still until it vaporises. A large pan of cold water is placed on top of the still to condense the vapour which is allowed to run down a delivery tube into a waiting glass bottle.

We were given a sample of the 'Toddy' - it certainly seemed a fiery drink! We were also invited to try the 'sweets' which I found delicious. It was a very pleasant interlude with a lot of smiling. As we left we were presented with a small woven bamboo 'purse' containing the 'sweets', two of the decorations and one of the whistles. Pictures of the Toddy Palm Plantation.

As we continued towards Mount Popa, the road started to climb and the temperature dropped noticeably. By the time we arrived at the township of Mount Popa it was raining quite hard. We passed a monastery and parked in the main street near the entrance to the Taung Kalat temples.

Mount Popa is an extinct volcano which rises to almost 5,000 feet above sea level. It is the home of the 37 'Nats' or spirits which form an important part of the beliefs of most Burmese. The Taung Kalat temples are at the summit of a pillar of rock in the town reached by a climb of 777 steps. The steps are covered but open at the side so we still got fairly wet on the ascent. Many of the steps were tiled so they became quite slippery with the rainwater sluicing down but, with the aid of the handrails, it wasn't too bad. A large number of monkeys inhabit the mountain so we were carefully observed at every step. The monkeys have a reputation for being aggressive, but they seemed mainly curious. At the top, there are a number of temples and stunning views, muted somewhat by the appalling weather. On our way down, we paused to buy some sugar cane to feed to the monkeys who appreciated the gesture. Oh, and we made a contribution to the 'Temple Cleaners' who had solicited tips on the way up. This was also appreciated. Not all of our group had made the ascent but, despite the weather, I found it very worth-while. Pictures at Mount Popa.

Lunch had been arranged for us at the nearby Mount Popa Resort which is situated in a National Park and built on a wooded mountainside of Mount Popa itself, at an elevation of 2,618 feet. When we arrived, we found our other bus had already arrived with the rest of the guests on the trip together with the T.V. crew and the Ship's Doctor. Dampened spirits were revived by an excellent lunch. By the time we'd eaten, the rain had stopped and we could enjoy marvellous views of Mount Popa itself, before boarding the bus to return to the ship. Pictures at Mount Popa Resort.

Doctor Hla Tun explained that our route back to the ship would take us within a couple of miles of Ti Pu Village, where 'Road to Mandalay' guests had provided support for new school buildings. I was keen to see what had been achieved, so I discussed with my fellow guests the possibility of a detour. Everybody was happy to make the side trip so, when we set off, the Doctor travelled in the bus with us, in order to show us some of the work for the local people that 'Road to Mandalay' is doing. The side trip is described in a separate post here.

After the visit to Ti Pu, we carried on back to ship after a thoroughly enjoyable, if exhausting, day.

I didn't realise it back in August 2009, but I was to return to Mount Popa Resort and Ti-Pu.

Cruising downstream on the 'Road to Mandalay'

Thursday 27th August 2009

Where was I? In the last episode, we’d just walked round the delightful ‘Pottery Village’ and then we took the coach back to the dock. We were there for 9:30 a.m., because the ship was due to set sail at 10:00 a.m. for Bagan. I was not altogether surprised when Captain Myo Lwin cast off a little early around 9:45 – a good captain is only happy when his ship is under way and his ship has been unable to ply ‘The Road to Mandalay’ in Kipling’s famous phrase describing the river for so many months.

Around 40 Orient Express ‘Logistics Staff’ and others watched from the dock as the ‘Road to Mandalay’ gently moved away from the dock and pivoted to place the bow downstream (the Voith-Sneider propulsion system makes the ship very manoeverable). There is a pagoda just downsteam of the dock and the captain first pointed the ship towards the pagoda and made the appropriate obeisance to ensure a safe journey. The TV crew, of course, were collecting pictures of the departure.

When the ship is moored at the berth, hinging booms are deployed into the river bed to hold the ship steady. Once raised vertically into the sailing position, a member of the crew, wearing a safety harness, set about cleaning and repainting the discoloured ends of the booms. Buffet lunch was served on the top deck and the weather remained hot. I spent some time on the bridge, at the invitation of the Captain and we chatted about many topics. In the afternoon there was a demonstration of Thanaka, the creamy, natural make-up made from the Thanaka tree. One of the girls on the staff applied Thanaka in a pretty, leaf-shaped design to the cheeks of the ladies who wanted to participate. The Longyi is the traditional lower garment available in versions for men and women and guests were shown how to wear these. From mid-afternoon, afternoon tea was served in the Piano Bar and this was followed by a lecture on Myanmar’s racial groups.

The ship continued downstream and moored midstream around sunset, pointing the bow upstream and dropping the anchors. In the early evening, a ‘Longyi Cocktail Party’ took place on the Top Deck as a prelude to full dinner in the Restaurant. We were a small but very varied band of passengers and I was surprised how quickly new friendships developed. Various nationalities, from solitary travellers like myself to parties of four, all seemed to get on very well. Pictures of the cruise downstream.

The evening terminated in a ‘Surprise on the River’. Around 2,000 tiny rafts, each carrying a lighted candle and some fitted with a coloured paper screen to produce varied colours, floated down the river towards us from upstream where, hidden in the darkness, local villagers retained by ‘Road to Mandalay’ lit and launched the craft from a number of boats positioned across the river. The emotion as these lights came towards us, embraced the ship some passing on the one side some on the other then disappearing into the darkness downstream, is hard to describe. As the passengers made their way to bed (or to the Piano Bar for late-night drinks), there were many moist eyes at the beauty of the effect.

Friday 28th August 2009

We were due to set sail at 6.30 a.m., so I ordered morning tea in my cabin for six. It arrived promptly but by the time I was ready to greet the day, the ship was already continuing downstream. My previous trip on this river had been in the dry season when, in places, there was barely enough water for a ship as large as ‘Road to Mandalay’ even though she is flat-bottomed and designed originally for river cruising. This trip is in the Rainy Season where the river level can be tens of feet higher and all the adjacent flatland is inundated. The river water brings precious soil nutrients in suspension and this natural fertilisation allows farmers to produce up to three crops a year. Breakfast was served with the usual flair in the restaurant and, before 9.00 a.m., we had moored midstream opposite a simple landing stage near Old Bagan, ready for our visit ashore.

A number of local motor boats came out from the shore to act as ‘Tenders’. The ship carries its own handrailed gangway which can be lowered almost to water level to allow passengers an easy transfer from the ship’s reception area to the small boats. Passengers going ashore were then divided into a number of small groups by ‘preferred language’ and each group had its own tour guide. The boats are wooden, built in a traditional style. They have a rudder for steering and a Chinese-made small diesel engine driving a long shaft terminated in a conventional screw propellor. The engine mount has limited movement, to allow the prop to be lifted clear of the water but, unlike Thai ‘longtail boats’, the tiller is used as well. The diesel engines have no electric start so a crank handle is inserted and turned furiously to get them to ‘fire-up’.

We were soon ashore and climbing the path leading up the river bank to the Plain of Bagan. In addition to crowds of locals just interested in the re-starting of the ‘Road to Mandalay’ cruises, we were mobbed by dozens of souvenir sellers, many quite young. A series of wooden-wheeled horse-drawn carts were waiting for us and we divided ourselves between these vehicles, two per cart, and set off in convoy down the main track of compressed sand. Whereas in most places a horse-drawn taxi would be retained for the tourists, here in Bagan they are the standard ‘Taxi’ used by residents. At most major road junctions, there are usually a couple of these carts parked under a shading tree waiting to be hired. I found myself sharing a horse taxi with Franz, the Country Manager from Orient-Express, on a fact-finding expedition. He commented that what should have been a magical experience, quietly moving past the dozens of small pagodas in our horse carts was marred by being followed by a number of noisy motor cycles and bicycles used by the more-determined souvenir sellers. The motor bikes can continue to sell even as you are moving – the rider keeps station next to the cart whilst the pillion passenger displays the goods on offer and gives the ‘patter’ about the quality and value. Longyi, jewellery, bangles, pictures, lacquerware and other craft items are all for sale. We passed the famous Ananda Temple and left our horse carts outside the Sulamani temple, where there were more souvenir sellers, some with very elaborate stalls extending right up to the temple precinct. Only once we entered the temple, in bare feet, did the hubbub of the souvenir sellers recede and we could listen to the descriptions given by our various guides.

Our tour buses had followed us to the temple so after we had emerged and run the gauntlet of the souvenir-sellers, we boarded the buses for a journey of a few miles to the revered Shwezigon Pagoda. After walking round this large temple complex, there was a long arcade of souvenir sellers before we boarded the buses for the journey back to the boat. We paused for a fascinating visit to the ‘Everstand’ lacquerware workshop where the owner ‘Mister Moustache’ explained in detail the making of lacquerware before conducting us around the site to look at the processes in detail. A modern showroom displayed the vast range of articles produced in lacquerware and, with no pressure to buy, our group seemed far more willing to purchase souvenirs. At the landing stage, we negotiated the waiting sellers and took the motor boats back to the ship moored mid-channel. It looked very elegant in the bright sunshine. Once again, buffet lunch was provided on the top deck.

At 2.30 p.m. we were off again by bus. Our first stop was the Dhamma Ya Zika Pagoda. Then, we moved on to a village where we were allowed to look into the house of a land-owning family. The old grandmother was spinning cotton on a fairly crude spinning wheel. Another family member was preparing the cotton to be woven on a hand loom. Photographs of young people obtaining their degrees were displayed on the wooden framing for a mezzanine floor where the children sleep. We moved on to a riverside Pagoda and then looked around the Ananda Temple before our final call – the upper terraces of the so-called ‘Sunset Pagoda’ to watch the sunset. Our TV crew were also on hand to record the event. The surprise for me was when a teenage boy came up and said “Remember me?” and it was my ‘chaperone’ from my bike ride on my first visit to Bagan. In a while, we were joined by his younger brother. They both said we should repeat the bike trip. Although I’d had the same idea myself, I said that I would have to check first, so the elder boy gave me a scrap of paper with name and a mobile number which could be used to make arrangements. Then it was back to the ship, still patiently waiting mid-stream. Exploring Bagan.

Dinner was a farewell meal as some passengers were booked one-way only (Mandalay – Bagan) and would leave the ship the following morning. Other guests were due to join the ship for the return cruise to Mandalay. Following the Farewell Dinner, there was a puppet show using traditional Myanmar marionettes.

The Ayerwaddy Revisited

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.

Nearby, we could hear local instruments and singing amplified electronically. A ‘Spirit Dance’ was in progress. The musical line-up included one of the huge, round percussion instruments in which the player sits inside and there were a number of dancers snaking around in the limited space. Somewhat deafened, we climbed back on our bus.

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.

Pictures of the Alms Giving.

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.

A morning in Bangkok

I started the day with breakfast on the terrace at my hotel. It's hot, just how I like it. The river teems with ferries, longtail boats and the noisy tugs dragging their trains of massive barges up and down the river. After breakfast, I take the hotel ferry to nearby Saphan Taksin where a short walk gets me to the overhead 'Skytrain'. I ride the 'Skytain' to Sala Daeng. Here an overhead walkway leads a few hundred yards to Silom where I go underground to catch the mass transit to Hua Lumphong.

This, gentle reader, is the location of Bangkok's main railway station. My firm was involved in the supply of a lot of equipment to GEC for use on the railways throughout Thailand so I can rarely resist the instinct to visit this station when I'm in Bangkok. After watching the operation of this busy terminus for a while, I retraced my route to Saphan Taksin.

I had determined to take a trip on the river and ended up on the 11:00 a.m. express tourist boat which I took upstream past Wat Pho and Grand Palace to the terminus, returning on the same boat. The express tourist boat seems to make conditional stops as required and appears to be used by quite a few Thais. I indicated my desire to alight at the 'Oriental' Public Landing Stage and was amused when the deck hand pushed a bell push once to alert the captain. The public landing stage leads to a street lined with the makeshift street restaurants used by Thais which is just a few minutes walk from the hotel. The public landing stage is used by various river taxi services and a well-patronised public cross-river ferry - the hotel's private ferries use a private landing stage on hotel land. At 11:50 a.m. I was back on dry land and soon back in my room, preparing to check-out (oh, and uploading a few more photographs). At 2.15 p.m. I left the hotel by car for transfer to the airport. The journey was much quicker than in the opposite direction yesterday morning (was it only yesterday morning? It seems much longer to me!). Check-in and passport control was very fast then I walked to the Thai lounge nearest my departure gate. I was ready for a light snack and a drink but I was also delighted that my computer immediately connected to the Thai 'Wi-Fi' so that I could post this whilst waiting for my flight to Yangon.

My pictures of Bangkok (taken on various visits) are here.

Back to Bangkok

Jet Airways operated a Boeing 777-300ER (Extended Range) on the Heathrow - Mumbai leg, powered by two huge turbo-fans. Their 'Premiere' class has a layout I've not seen before, a sort of 1-2-1 layout where each seat is an aisle seat. Each seat is angled inwards, facing forward, and has its own 'cubicle' for privacy. The window seats give a fairly limited view out, because of the angling.

The 'cubicle' features a hinging, swing-out video touch screen, which can also be controlled from the usual handset). The telephone part of the handset has a full 'QWERTY' keyboard. Services are 'on demand'. The film choice was not as large as some airlines but I decided to watch the 'Startrek XI' prequel since it had received good reviews. I found it an excellent 'yarn' and the casting of the young crew members was very convincing. The production values are quite different from any other 'Startrek' I've seen but it was very entertaining ("It's Startrek, Jim, but not as we know it."). Leonard Nimoy has a role as the time-travelling elderly Spock.

Back in the 'real world' (if you can regard travelling at six hundred miles an hour in a metal tube five miles above the Earth 'real'), cabin service was excellent and the meal was nicely presented. We were a few miutes late into Mumbai because of air traffic delays on the approach. We disembarked via an air bridge and transit passengers for Hong Kong and Bangkok were called aside whilst the other passengers made their way off the aircraft. Transit passengers were then conducted on the usual long walk through featureless corridors until we arrived at a security station where we were divided into two long queues of transit passengers (men and women separated) to have our hand luggage X-rayed and ourselves metal-detected and hand searched. This took about forty minutes but, once again, the security staff seemed friendly. After a final check of our pre-issued boarding pass for the connecting flight, we were disgorged 'Airside' to find our way to the appropriate gate. Midnight on Sunday local time and the airport was crowded! I stumbled across the Jet Airways business lounge and ducked inside. This was fairly busy too but I grabbed a 'Coke' and found a place to use my notebook computer to write a few words. The flight was soon called and I had only a short walk to Gate 13 for bus transfer to the waiting aircraft. The Mumbai - Bangkok flight was a 737-800. The Boeing 737 twin-engined aircraft has been a ubitquitous workhorse for years. The various later variants (like the -800) are a far cry from the early 737s I saw years ago. A meal was served shortly after take-off but then the cabin was put into 'dark mode' for sleeping for the rest of the four-hour flight. I slept fitfully but this leg rather dragged so I was pleased when we got to Bangkok.

Most of the airport workers at Bangkok were wearing masks against Swine Flu and incoming passengers were being screened by a thermal camera (to look for those with high temperatures). Immigration and baggage reclaim was painless and, once my hand baggage was X-rayed in Customs, I was into the arrivals hall. After a few minutes, I found my young lady guide, correctly guessing that the sign saying 'JANW FORD' meant me. We joined the car and driver and set off for the city. Around 7.00 a.m. on a Monday morning is not a good time to take the toll road into Bangkok and it was well over an hour before we arrived at the Mandarin Oriental Hotel. I'd expected a Garden Wing room but was told that this had closed for refurbishment a couple of weeks ago so I was on the seventh floor of the River Wing with good views of the Chao Phraya River.

There was time for a quick shower and a change before meeting the guide again for a tour of Wat Pho (sometimes spelled 'Wat Po') and the Grand Palace. Although I've been to Thailand many times (initially, in connection with my work, then for pleasure) somehow I'd never been to either location. I won't bore you with details of my visit ('that makes a change' I hear you say) but I've put links to a couple of websites:

Wat Pho.
Grand Palace and other Thai Palaces.

My pictures of Bangkok (taken on various visits) are here.

My pictures of Wat Pho are here.

By this time, I was getting pretty tired but the guide still wanted to call at 'Gems Gallery' which bills itself as "The World's Biggest Jewelry Store" (sorry about the American spelling which is endemic in Thailand - thinking about it, more-or-less endemic everywhere). I realised I'd been before and it certainly is a very professional operation. Tourism might be down in Thailand, but this place was heaving with visitors.

By the time I was dropped off at the Oriental, I was pretty tired so I 'crashed out' on the bed for a couple of hours. I'd an invitation to a cocktail party in the Author's Wing where I met the general manager, had a couple of orange juice and then went for dinner outside on the terrace watching the river traffic. Regular readers will not be surprised to hear I had 'fish and chips'. Presentation was not quite what we're used to but the taste was excellent.

Part of the hotel is on the opposite bank of the river and two free hotel ferry boats ply between the two halves of the hotel and a couple of other locations on demand. I couldn't resist a trip to the other shore but after a short walk round the facilities (restaurant, spa, healthclub, cookery school and more) it was back to my room to finish this post.

My archive of pictures at the Oriental are here.

For more on the hotel try the Oriental Website.

Up, Up and Away

The Jet Airways Boeing 777-300ER at Heathrow, just prior to boarding

Once again, I'm off to the Far East. As I write, it's 08:15 on a Sunday morning and I'm in the American Airlines lounge at Heathrow, Terminal 3. I'm actually flying Jet Airways (an Indian airline) to Mumbai then, by a connecting flight, on to Bangkok. Because we 'lose time' flying east, it'll be Monday morning by the time I get to Bangkok.

I had an uneventful journey from home with Alan (that's the way I like it) and although Heathrow is busy, check in and security didn't take too long. Security is still thorough but, this morning at least, the staff are polite and I even got some smiles.

All-in-all, I'm quite relaxed and I'll keep you posted on my experiences as and when possible.

Transport Festival, August 2009

The Museum of Science and Industry in Manchester (MOSI) hosted a nine-day Transport Festival in August, 2009. As you can see from the rather curious advert above, the Festival intended to show how the "Northwest shaped the modern world". This initiative by Industrial Powerhouse is supported by the European Regional Development Fund which is "investing in englandsnorthwest" (perhaps I start to understand why many young people remain functionally illiterate).

The first seven days of the Festival were sub-titled "Roaring Road Rally" (accounting for some of the non-railway subjects in my pictures). This overlapped with a three day 'Great Garratt Gathering'.

The 'Garratt' types are perhaps the most famous of the locomotives built by Beyer Peacock in their works at Gorton, just a few miles from MOSI.

Garratts, both full-size and scale-models, came together at MOSI as part of the Transport Festival, to celebrate 100 years since this famous locomotive type was first produced at the Gorton Works. The first Garratt was the 'K1' for Tasmania. Repatriated and restored, this centenarian now works on the Welsh Highland Railway but was displayed (in light steam) on a low loader at MOSI, together with 'William Francis' and MOSI's 1930-built Beyer-Garratt, which ran on the South African Railways until 1972. Other visitors were the Gorton-built Lancashire and Yorkshire 'Ironclad' 0-6-0 (from K&WVR) and the former Beyer Peacock Works Shunter (from Foxfield). Both these locomotives were in steam and, in addition to giving passenger rides, operated a demonstration freight train. The visiting Beyer Peacock built 'Hymek' diesel remained static, but did occasionally run-up the engine.

On Thursday 13th August, I took pictures in the morning before taking over the 'Planet' replica on passenger rides in the afternoon.

On Saturday and Sunday 15, 16 Aug, bus trips were run from MOSI to see what remains of Beyer Peacock's Works. I joined a bus trip on Sunday for a walking tour of the former Boiler Shop, before returning to MOSI to drive the diminuitive Beyer Peacock works shunter which was built in 1879.

Originally, this works shunter was a crane engine but she was rebuilt as a conventional outside cylinder 0-4-0ST. During the afternoon, we 'banked' the demonstration freight hauled by the 'Ironclad', took part in a cavalcade of Beyer Peacock engines - Works Shunter, 'Ironclad' and (not in steam) Garratt 'William Francis' and finally rounded off the day 'piloting' the 'Ironclad' on a number of passenger trips.

On the 17th August, as a publicity event, the 'K1' was taken back to her birthplace at Gorton but I wasn't around for that.

My Transport Festival pictures.

My Gorton Works pictures.

My Works Shunter pictures.

My 'William Francis' pictures.

Coaling at Rowsley

In the past, locomotive coaling on Peak Rail has been carried out at the Darley Dale yard. For some years, an electric coal elevator was employed. This required the coal to be shovelled by hand from the coal pile to the hopper at the bottom of the conveyor. Even on a tank locomotive, this was a gruelling task at the end of a shift.

Latterly, matters have been much improved by the use of a bucket loading shovel which a number of locomotive crew are trained to use.

As part of the development of the new Rowsley Shed, smart coal stillages have been provided, shown in my picture below taken in December 2008.

In August 2009, the first consignment of coal was delivered to Rowsley. On the 9th August, I was the rostered driver when 'Royal Pioneer' was coaled for the first time at Rowsley by Rob using a 'JCB', as shown in the pictures below.

More pictures around Peak Rail.

Ty Gwyn

I've been involved in the management of a small commercial woodland in Wales for the last twenty years or so. Ty Gwyn is a 66-acre plantation not far from Corwen in North Wales. It's mainly Sitka spruce together with lodgepole pine, but broadleaves have been added in recent years with Oak, Ash and Rowan.

A small pool has been created, fed by perennial streams on the site. It serves as a memorial to my partner, Daemon, who died in 1999.

Pictures:

2003.
2006.
2008.
2009.
Harvesting (1).
Harvesting (2).
Replanting.

Brave New Railway (again)

Arriving at Wolverhampton to travel to London, the first service south was an Arriva Cross Country which I decided to board, intending to change at Birmingham to a Virgin Birmingham - Euston train. I was a bit surprised to find an HS125 working the Arriva train. The set had been quite nicely refurbished recently and the short journey to Birmingham reminded me how much better the elderley HS125 is from the customer's point of view compared with the modern 'Voyagers'. There's more space in the cabin, the sound insulation is better and I found the ride quality better. Back to the future?

I know that some Virgin services manage to run to time but I don't often manage to catch those particular trains. This trip was no exception. The Virgin train I hoped to catch was already in the platform at Birmingham - not the expected 'Pendolino' but the previous-generation push-pull arrangement with an electric locomotive on the back and Driving Van Trailer 82101 on the front.

Part of the train was in the old Virgin livery of red with black horizontal lines but a number of coaches were in the British Rail blue and grey livery which I've not seen for a long time. All the coaches were very run-down internally and I was reminded of the way British Rail used to use all sorts of nondescript stock on Football Specials, half expecting it to be vandalised.

Although there were a number of passengers already on board, quite a few were hanging around on the platform, suggesting some sort of problem. It transpired that there was a fault on the Central Door locking system. I'm not quite sure why such a fundamental flaw was not dealt with before passengers boarded. Needless to say, the Passenger Information Displays were confidently predicting an 'On Time' departure. Walking along the platform, I found a number of doors festooned with yellow tape and a few staff apparently investigating the problems. As departure time approached, I asked various platform staff whether the departure would be delayed but they all were equally unaware of what was likely to happen. Long after departure time, the displays insisted that the train was 'On Time'.

As usual, passengers were left to their own devices but increasing numbers concluded that the subsequent Wolverhampton - Euston Virgin service was a better bet. I think a 'live' public address announcement was made at one point, but I've no idea what was said because of the noise of a number of diesel trains in the vicinity. In general, the pre-recorded announcements at New Street are fairly audible but 'live' announcements seem much less satisfactory. It irks me that apologies for late running and cancellations (there's quite a lot of both) are given by a sincere-sounding pre-recorded message. It's difficult to take comfort from a pre-recorded message starting "I'm sorry..." when, having paid an eye-watering sum for the opportunity to travel, plans for the day are smashed by the casual incompetence of our transport system.

The picture below shows the London-bound 'Pendolino' which I eventually caught arriving at New Street. In the background, you can see the E.W.S. electric locomotive at the rear of the ill-starred push and pull I'd initially boarded. I've no idea what happened to the failed train - when I returned through New Street the same evening it had departed, perhaps to some convenient breaker's yard.

Excursions at Sedgeley Junction

Back in the '60s, when I worked signal boxes unofficially, I was used to seeing long-distance express trains on the Stour Valley line, but the South Stafford Line was the haunt of heavy freight and a fairly intensive service of local passenger trains.

Diesel Multiple Units (DMU) had taken over almost all the passenger workings, except for a steam-hauled service to Birmingham Snow Hill in the morning with a steam return working at tea-time. Eventually even that service was worked by a 'Swindon' Inter-City DMU. During the day, there was a Walsall-Dudley DMU each way every hour, a Birmingham Snow-Hill-Dudley each way every hour and the occasional trip between Dudley and Dudleyport by a single unit railcar.

But the Zoo at Dudley was still a popular destination for Day Excursions at Bank Holidays. With few freight trains running, paths could be found for a number of trains which converged on Dudley from a number of places, mainly in the East Midlands. Cars were far less common in the '50s and '60s and British Railways would speculatively advertise all sorts of rail excursions to the seaside or other destinations like Dudley which offered excellent value for money. On the lead-up to Bank Holidays, I would study the Special Traffic Notices to see what what had been laid on and, if the opportunity arose, I would visit Sedgeley Junction to work the box.

There could be up to six or seven 'Specials' all arriving at Dudley late morning and returning late afternoon. Most trains would be on the South Stafford Line but a few would arrive on the Dudleyport branch from the Stour Valley Line. I can't currently locate the detailed notes I made at the time (it was a long time ago) but one Easter Bank Holiday Monday I remember should give you the flavour.

The local passenger trains were signalled on the 'Block' as either '3 pause 1' (ordinary passenger train) or '1 pause 3' (branch passenger train) so there was a frisson of excitement when taking on the first 'four-beater' (express passenger train) from the Great Bridge direction. As far as I remember, trains loaded up to 9 or 10 bogies so the locomotive could be expected to be working hard coming up the bank to Dudley. We'd try to 'get the road' from Dudley East Box in good time to clear our Up Home and our Up Distant so as not to 'baulk' the approaching train.

The first train came by in fine style with a fairly grubby 'Black 5' on the front and a miscellaneous assortment of coaches. If originating stations were trying to run a number of 'Specials', they would often run out of coaches and all sorts of unlikely vehicles could appear. Since most of these trains were speculative, it might happen that an unexpected number of passengers would turn up for a particular train and the Station Master could be faced with the problem of 'strengthening' a train by adding whatever rolling stock he could find at the last minute.

Once the train had unloaded its passengers at Dudley, the staff there had the problem of stabling the coaches somewhere in the goods yard after which the incoming locomotive would wait for a 'path' to go to Bescot Motive Power Depot for servicing. A few hours later, the engine would return to Dudley, find its train, gather the by-now tired passengers and take them back home. Since a number of trains were sheduled to arrive over a period of less than an hour, some pretty smart working was needed at Dudley.

After the first train had passed clear of Sedgeley Junction, we could allow a following train to approach from Great Bridge direction. Once a second train was 'on the block', we would be anxiously waiting for Dudley East to 'knock out' (give 'train out of section') indicating that the first train was clear and that he could accept the second train from us, allowing us to clear our signals. I say 'anxiously waiting' because the approach to our Up Home signal was a particularly bad place to stop a train and drivers always seemed to feel a personal affront when stopped in a tricky location.

We'd been listening to the exhaust of the approaching second train for some time when we 'got him the road'. I'm not sure whether he saw our distant 'off' but he kept coming hard and, as the train appeared, we could see a 'Horwich Crab' 2-6-0 at the front. I think that was the only 'Crab' I saw at Sedgeley Junction. They were mainly used for freight but, with fairly large coupled wheels, they could run quite fast and were popular with some drivers for use on this sort of passenger excursion.

It was a few minutes before the next excursion was taken on and by the time we received 'section' (Train Entering Section) on the block bell, Dudley East had 'knocked out' for the second excursion so we could offer the approaching train on and clear our signals in good time. The locomotive exhaust was noticeably different because this train had a '5X' (Jubilee) on the front, the three cylinders giving six 'beats' to the revolution, compared with four for a 2-cylinder engine. I'm sorry, I can't remember the name but she looked quite handsome in lined green British Railways livery and the heavily-loaded train was soon disappearing up the gradient towards Dudley. I think that was the first time I'd seen a '5X' on the South Stafford line.

The next excursion was soon on the block and, with the Dudley East Block Indicator remaining at 'Train on Line', we were afraid we'd stop this train on the bank. Dudley station must have been getting a little crowded by now, having received three passenger trains in quick succession. However, we received 'Train Out of Section' in the nick of time and got 'Line Clear' for the next train. We may have slowed him, but he was going quite well by the time he passed the box. As the train approached, I at first thought it was hauled by another 'Black 5' but as it came nearer, I was startled to see an Eastern Region 'B1' 4-6-0. It was certainly the first time I'd seen one of those at Sedgeley Junction. It had no trouble keeping its train going well on the last mile of its journey to Dudley.

There was little time to think about the unusual motive power on the previous train because the last of the 'specials' was approaching. It was almost a relief to find a Stanier 'Class 5' in charge of the crowded train as he slogged up the gradient to Dudley. Only then did I realise that none of the engines off the earlier arrivals had yet come back light en route to Bescot M.P.D. We debated whether perhaps other arrangements were in use, but it seemed unlikely.

Eventually, Dudley East offered a '2-3' (Light Engine). Shortly afterwards, we received '2' (Train Entering Section). After I'd acknowledged and placed my Down Line Block Indicator at 'Train on Line', I received '2-2' (Engine Assisting). The 'two pause two' was commonplace on the Up Line where heavy freight trains required banking up to Dudley but in the down direction it meant that two light engines in steam had, for convenience, been coupled together. Having acknowledged the '2-2' for the second engine, I was startled to receive another '2-2'. I delightedly acknowledged this additional engine - it was the first time I'd handled three light engines coupled together. Then Dudley East sent '2-2' again. I hesitated for a moment before carefully acknowledging 'two pause two'. "Four light engines!" I cried unbelievingly to Tom, the rostered signalman, who was amused at my enthusiasm. Then Dudley East slowly sent '2-2' again. Suddenly, I wondered if it had all gone wrong. Had I misunderstood a 'Special Train Entering Section'? (I think 2-2-2 was authorised for certain trains). Was it not a succession of light engines but the repetition of a code I'd acknowledged incorrectly? "Was it another 2-2?" I asked Tom. He nodded "Take a 2-2" and I'll talk to him on the 'phone". So, with trembling fingers I acknowledged the fourth '2-2'. If correct, there were five light engines in steam coupled together approaching. Tom's 'phone call confirmed that they had, indeed, collected all the engines from the specials together and that we'd got five engines 'Rightaway Bescot'.

I 'got the road', pulled off and stood on the landing looking out for what was, for me, an unprecedented train. I could scarcely believe it as the five engines passed the box, all tender first, with the leading engine doing the work and the other four crews taking their ease. By this time, Tom had advised the box in advance what was going on by telephone so when I sent the '2-2' for each assisting engine, it was promptly acknowledged.

Tom was working 'early' shift (6.00 a.m. to 2.00 p.m.) so shortly after the engines had gone, his relief arrived and I returned home. I didn't see the engines and crews return to Dudley, sort out the various rakes of coaches and take their passengers home around tea time. But I'll never forget the excitement of that day!

Earlier posts: 'Sedgeley Junction' and 'Sedgeley Junction Remembered'.

You can find all my posts describing Traffic Movements on the South Stafford Line and the Stour Valley Line in the steam era here.

There are quite a few posts describing signal boxes and railway signalling. You can find them all here. [Link to all 'Traffic Movements' and 'Railway Signalling' posts added 10-Nov-2015]