The Road to Mandalay

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The road to Mandalay was not a comfortable one and very far from the wonderfully luxurious double-decked buses of South America. The narrow, hard seat had minimal legroom (even for me) and reclined only a couple of degrees. This made for a torrid night sleep in which I woke up every hour with a numb behind and knees screaming to be out-stretched.

The silver lining was that I was treated to sunrise from the bus. The big orange ball rose over farming fields and rice paddies as the bus eventually rumbled into Mandalay at 7am. Taxi drivers held boards of hotels, hoping to lure customers to them. I had made friends with a couple of Italian girls (Carla and Antonella) on the bus who were heading to a hotel so we shared the taxi fare into town.

I arrived at the hotel in time for breakfast which I spent with my newfound friends. We were joined by an Italian guy (Daniele) who I had also met in Yangon and we all decided to head out for the day in a taxi to do some sightseeing around the city. Interestingly, the highlights of the city are the historical temples and towns that surround it.

We all clambered into the back of a tiny little blue taxi which can only really be described as a mini converted into a pickup. The driver squished himself in his miniscule cabin as we bumped over the road which rattled our tired bones and hurtled us towards our first destination – Paleik. The main attraction of this little town is the central pagoda dubbed the Snake Pagoda.

Three Pythons appeared here from a nearby forest and took up residence curled around a Buddhist statue some years ago. These snakes are now very much revered by pilgrims and are looked after by the monks who wash and feed them daily. We were in time to watch this as we surveyed the huge, slick bodies of the pythons squirmed in a large tiled bath. It was incredible to watch as they slithered around and poked their heads above the bath side occasionally - their forked tongues striking from their venomous mouths intermittently.

They were soon permitted to slither out at which point one of them writhed over to my feet and around as it made its way to the feeding area. I say feeding but it was more like force feeding as one of the handlers opened the snakes jaw and squeezed raw whisked egg into its mouth. Afterwards I got the chance to hold the snake whose immense power was evident as it squirmed effortlessly in my grip.

I gladly gave the snake back to its rightful owners and we proceeded to the ancient area of Paleik. We wandered around many ancient white stupa's and temples with stone faces. Each one was old and crumbling with vines and other green foliage wrapped around in a twisted, angry entanglement of bush. Temple buildings held up by single teak beams were in a serious state of disrepair and ready to collapse. It was all wonderfully atmospheric though and felt very much untouched, raw and original.

Next we made the beautiful journey through a tree-lined street that curved over our little blue bullet. We whizzed past still lakes, rich cultivated fields as well as cyclists, ox-carts and trishaws. We arrived at a dock from where we had to catch a boat across to another ancient area called Inwa.

Inwa was another historical city of religious importance and as such is plentiful in sights related to Buddhism. We charted a couple of horse carts to trundle around the main temples and monasteries, which was good fun. The wooden carts felt as ancient as the surrounding temples as they bounced over the dirt track road.

We visited many temples and monasteries in beautiful settings. Gold zedi’s reflect in glass-like rice paddies where families are hard at work in colourful costume. Palm trees shaded ancient crumbling temples and stupa’s as young boys dived into muddy lakes searching for small fish. The combination of traditional life and the incredible history that surrounds this was a privilege to observe and we soaked up every minute as our horse trotted around these areas.

The final stop for our horse cart was a watch tower which gives a panoramic view of the area. The tower is leaning and a precarious wooden staircase winds, unevenly, around the exterior 90ft to the top. The view is a good one as various rice fields, banana plantations and temples are scattered throughout the hilly area.

We caught our ferry boat back and scoffed down some much needed lunch before making our way to Sagaing. To reach this we made our way back across the river and over the mighty metal Sagaing Bridge that spans the Irrawaddy in this location. This bridge sits parallel to the older Ava Bridge built by the British in 1934.

Sagaing is a large network of hills that is home to an enormous array of temples, pagodas, monasteries, nunneries and over 500 stupa’s. The best view of them all is to climb Sagaing Hill – which we did. The long stairway was tough and the bad night sleep and active day was beginning to take its toll as we puffed our way to the top.

Any feelings of lethargy disappeared on reaching the summit however. The view was stupendous as on one side thick green foliage fell away down the hill and towards the horizon which was dotted by bright white and glittering gold stupa’s. On the other side the brown river snaked around the hill over which the two impressive bridges were visible.

Our final stop for the day was U Bein’s Bridge – a 1,300 yd long teak bridge at Amarapura. I had very much been looking forward to this particular sight which was reached by yet another bone shaking, arse numbing journey through small villages and particularly bad pot-holed roads.

On first sight the bridge is incredible. Ancient posts protrude from the still lake on which the bridge spans. The teak walkway is a hive of activity as monks, vendors and villagers make their way to and fro over the lengthy span on their way home. We had arrived about half an hour before sunset – just enough time to walk across the bridge before enjoying the impending sunset from a boat.

We began walking across the impressive 200 year-old structure, weaving in and out of the local commuters. The incredibly still Taungthaman Lake sluiced around the supporting beams which were thick and splintered at the ends. The lake was perfectly still and reflected everything that came into contact with it from surrounding temples, twisted trees and, of course, the immense bridge that flies across it. Lone wooden long-boats sliced through the mirror-like perfection of the lake surface leaving v-shaped ripples in their wake.

We reached a section of the bridge where we could climb down and catch a boat to watch the sun sink below the horizon. We passed under the bridge to the other side to take in the view from behind the sun. The blue sky was beginning to darken as a pristine mirror image of the bridge shimmered in the inky black water of the lake.

We passed through the bridge again to see the sun cast its final rays over the gorgeous scene in front. Women carried large baskets on their heads, cyclists weaved in and out of commuters and monks in single file slowly shuffled across the teak bridge which was all marvellously silhouetted against the big orange sun. All of this was fabulously cast onto the lakes surface as if two twin worlds sat atop one another.

Thoroughly satisfied with the days suitably thrilling finale we proceeded back to Mandalay and – not content with all that we had packed into our day so far – decided to go and watch the Moustache Brothers Troupe that very evening.

The same taxi driver that had been ferrying us around for most of the day picked us up later that evening after a much needed shower and rest. The performance was located across town and it didn’t take long before we arrived – our rear ends beginning to develop some stiff resistance to the bad roads and solid boards in the open rear of the taxi.

The Moustache Brothers are a world famous trio of brothers that are comic performers telling politically sensitive jokes amongst others. Two of the brothers have been in prison a couple of times because of their material – one particular stint was for 7 years. The main man – Par Par Lay was imprisoned again as recently as 2007 as the government thought he was behind the monks protests.

Many international comedians petitioned for their release and their now public profile ensures they can get away with telling their jokes. They were even referenced to in the Hugh Grant film ‘About a Boy’. Their performances are limited however to foreigners only – the only way they are able to continue operating without arousing too much suspicion.

Despite the very real danger that they could be locked away and sent to forced labour camps they still perform every evening to small groups. The show takes place in their home, on a make-shift stage of crates and using small, amateur props and cue cards to help with the narrative.

The theme of the evening blends from political satire to general family jokes to traditional dance and performances. Lu Paw (the main comedian as his English is the best) pokes fun constantly at his wife –who also performs - and bribes the audience (in multiples of 10 Zimbabwe $) not to tell, which was all good fun. Afterwards I was able to meet with the brothers and have an interesting talk about the past, present and future of Burma.

After the show we were a little stranded in a quiet Mandalay street with no transport back to the centre of town. It was late and everyone in the group was starving. We managed to eventually commandeer a driver who took us back to town and straight to a very popular street-stall eatery called Chapatti Stand.

It was a great way to finish the evening as the chapattis were heavenly. We accompanied the freshly cooked warm, doughy chapattis with various chicken and mutton curries before heading back to our hotel for the evening. I was desperate for some sleep not just because of the packed day following the horrid night bus from Yangon but also because in a few hours we all needed to rise to catch the 5am ferry to Bagan!

It felt like my head had barely hit the pillow before my ipod began to chime its familiar sci-fi tune to stir me from my swift slumber. I met the rest of the bleary-eyed gang and we made our way by taxi (yep – same guy) to the jetty.

I bought my ticket and headed to the big, metal hulking ferry down the wooden gangway. The boat was ancient and the ferry was busy with many people making the trip with supplies to various villages en-route. We found a small area to crash with some plastic chairs and huddled down in the chilly morning air, waiting for the boat to leave.

The boat left eventually and slowly chugged down the murky brown waters of the Irrawaddy – the enormously wide river that powers through the country from north to south. As the boat left the sun began to rise and give life to the day. The sights we had visited the previous day flew by – Inwa, Sagaing, Ava Bridge – all silhouetted against the red morning sky.

The journey to Bagan is a classic, but long one, taking almost 14 hours to travel the 140-ish miles down river. The ride was entertaining though and after an awkward sleep in the uncomfortable chair it was great fun to watch the theatre taking place on board the boat and each and every time we docked at a small village.

Out large ferry simply pulled into the muddy banks to offload and on load supplies. Baskets of fruit, vegetables and livestock bounced off the narrow planks and onto the muddy shore to be replaced with more people and an abundance of produce, especially bananas. With each docking a surge of people climbed aboard selling a variety of fresh, very deep fried (they love love love their oil here!) snacks, curries and fruits.

The villages were basic with thatched huts lining the river banks on most occasions. Women and children wore colourful costumes and the men were obvious farmers from their dark skin and chiselled physiques. All wore the familiar longyi though, puffed on fragrant cheroots and spat scarlet betel juice occasionally which had stained their teeth red from years of use.

The journey was very relaxing and it was great to soak in all of the surrounding scenery and people watch. Experiencing the daily chores of local life and the interaction between people was fascinating. Women fought amongst each other to sell their specialities whilst potential customer’s fingered through various foods to find the one they wanted. Children played in the river whilst their Mothers washed clothes on the river banks.

We floated down river lazily and passed huge barges full of teak wood, small wooden fishing boats fighting against the current and other ferry’s travelling upriver towards Mandalay.

After viewing a scintillating sunset from our plastic chairs on the upper level of the boat we eventually arrived at our destination – Nyuang U – gateway to the incredible architectural wonder that is Bagan.

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Photos

Boat Driver and U Beins Bridge
Amurapura, near Mandalay

When Mikey met Snakey
No idea why I'm looking at it so affectionately though.

Lovely Drive
Albeit uncomfortable.

The Italians!
And me.

Young Fishermen
Using only their hands...

U Beins Bridge
Amurapura, near Mandalay

Monk Crossing
Worlds longest teak bridge

Teak Post
Over 200 years old.