Hpa-An to Moulmein – not the best day

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Today we’re heading to the site where the northern end of the Burma-Thailand Death Railway ended, in Thanbyuzayat. Myo tells us that on the way, he wants to take us to see the largest cave near Hpa-An. He confidently assures us it will take half an hour to get there, and there are not too many steps. It takes 20 minutes to reach a dirt track, and another 30 minutes to make our way excruciatingly slowly down the track until finally, we have to get out and walk because the throng of vehicles is too great. Myo tells us we need to walk in flip-flops as we’ll need to remove our shoes once at the cave, as it is also a temple. That is much too far for David to manage without his boots, so Sara hits on the solution of walking in his boots then hiding them in the rucksack once there. By now, both of us are already in an extremely bad mood – we never really wanted to visit another cave and the whole excursion is looking like a massive waste of time.

Once at the cave, we’re faced with a set of 20 or 30 of the steepest steps imaginable. This is bad for both David’s repaired feet and Sara’s knee, but we decide we can just about make it. Once at the top, we find ourselves in a huge open cave with a zedi in the centre and the usual statues of Buddha. And, bizarrely, what looks like a small stage, lit by flashing neon lights. We are underwhelmed. Myo gestures to the back of the cave, where there is a steepish, slippery slope leading to a further set of steps. Beyond that lies a more traditional cave, where you walk for 15 minutes admiring the stalactites and stalagmites and trying to block out the smell of bat shit. This is simply too much and we point out that it is beyond us. By the time we reach the bottom of the entrance steps, Sara’s knee is throbbing miserably and we are both overheated. We limp back to the car and set off back down the dirt track in stony silence. We remind Myo that the one thing we really want to see today is the Death Railway. How long will it take to get there? ‘Well’, he muses, ‘first we stop to visit monastery, then drop off luggage in Moulmein and have lunch, then one and a half hours to Thanbyuzayat.’ At this rate we’ll get there just as the museum closes. We point out there is no need to stop off in Moulmein to check into the hotel, which will save some time. Then he suggests we drop the monastery visit also. Done!

We eventually reach Thanbyuzayat at 1.15. Myo tells us we will have Thai lunch today which is fine by us. Unfortunately for him, his chosen restaurant is closed, so we have to adjourn to a much more modest cafe nearby. He is disbelieving when we say we just want some noodles and vegetables, and proceeds to order fish also. This turns out to be river fish, cooked whole with a glutinous sauce poured over it. It has more bones than flesh and, like so much river fish, tastes mostly of soil. All three of us lapse into a gloomy silence.

Lunch over, Myo suggests we walk to the war graves cemetery. It’s only a 5 minute walk but it’s 36 degrees with no shade, and we ask for our hats which are in the car. Call the car! So we drive there. The cemetery is immaculate and virtually deserted, apart from an Australian who has come to look for his grandfather’s grave. He bemoans the fact that he had to point out to one group of young women that this is a cemetery and not the right place to be dancing on the headstones and shrieking and taking selfies.

Finally, we arrive at the Death Railway museum. Our Aussie friend has preceded us and warns us it is dire. He’s right. There is a rusting hulk of one of the locomotives that worked the railway, and an original bit of track. The railway ran for 415km from here to Kanchanaburi in Thailand (“The Bridge on the River Kwai”). It was constructed from both ends at the same time between 1942 and 1943, being completed in November 1943. It was very noticeable that many of the graves in the cemetery were from mid and late October 1943 when the jungle, the working conditions, and the unspeakable brutality of the Japanese were taking their most deadly toll. The Japs wanted to build the line to ship men and materiel to Burma to build their “greater Japan” in SE Asia, but also to prepare for their ultimately unsuccessful attempt to invade and conquer India.

The museum contained a number of naff tableaus that the local can stand in front of and take their selfies. There were some historical explanations which were quite helpful, but some almost propaganda pieces that were written in a somewhat pro Japanese way, and photos of Japs who died on the railway. David was getting very cross about the whole place at this stage. Statements on some of these tableaux like “some Japanese soldiers were incredibly kind to the prisoners” did not help his mood. Clearly some of the museum had been funded by the Japanese. It seems surprising that the Burmese permitted this at the museum given how much they themselves suffered under the Japanese.

After the museum we drove to Moulmein where we were staying. We stopped on the way to see the biggest reclining Buddha in Burma, which is part of some almost grotesque Buddhist theme park, and at a rubber plantation to inspect rubber trees being tapped to collect latex in little lacquer cups, something that Sara has wanted to see up close since learning about it in primary school.



Finally we check into the Strand Hotel. It’s the smartest hotel in town and can best be described as Chinese three star quality. Spacious, clean but nothing is quite right. It’s some sort of public holiday, so the dining room is closed, and the staff’s attention is focused on the large wedding party. We set off down the eponymous Strand road, moving carefully as the road is lit only by the oncoming traffic, and stop at the first place we find open. The OK hotel has as its proud boast a mission to offer satisfactory service. But in fact it does better than that, and provides 2 large beers and two bowls of delicious vegetable stew for about £5.

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