Myanmar part two: Nov 11 to 15
Trip Start
Nov 03, 2011
1
2
Trip End
Dec 07, 2011
Bangkok, Krung Thep, Thailand
Tuesday, November 22, 2011
The next day we explored another pagoda complex and then hired a taxi for the two hour journey to Pyin U Lwin, an old “hill station” at about 1000m above sea level, which the Brits established in the late 19th century as a place where they could go to escape the brutal heat of the Myanmar summers. Our patient taxi driver took us to seven hotels before we found one that a) met our (ok, my) slightly picky standards, b) had space available, and c) was licensed to take foreigners, as many are not. Pyin U Lwin is a bustling market town with a few old houses left over from the colonial era. We ended up staying in one, Candacraig, apparently where Paul Theroux stayed during his journey immortalised in “The Great Railway Bazaar”. It’s now government run, and it shows: faded paintwork, archaic plumbing, tatty furniture and poorly trained, though very friendly, staff. It still has much more character, though, than the concrete blocks in town, and has a peaceful, rural location about 20 minutes walk from the centre of town. There’s not a lot to see in Pyin U Lwin, except the extensive national botancal gardens, complete with aviary and butterfly museum, and a handful of pagodas and monasteries, at one of which, we sat down to tea with the ancient abbott while Zoe discussed the possibility of bringing a group of students to stay. We bought a bottle of surprisingly good Myanmar red wine at an off-licence, and took it to the Ruby restaurant for dinner, where the two smiling young waiters seemed to be thrilled to pour wine for two foreigners, perhaps the only two in Pyin U Lwin that night.
The real reason we headed to Pyin U Lwin was not to visit another hill station, but to take the train journey north-east towards Lashio, this section of which is famous for crossing the Goteik viaduct, built in 1901 and at 95m high, the longest and highest metal rail viaduct in the world at that time. We were only traveling as far as Kyaukme and the cost of an “ordinary class” ticket for the five hour journey was just US$3. We decided to splurge on “first class”, which cost US$4, the only difference being that there was a cushion on the wooden bench! It was a pleasant journey, rolling through fertile countryside, with the windows open, stopping at a few tiny stations where locals hopped on and off, and food vendors sold tasty treats through the windows. Much of the track was lined with a tall shrub in full bloom with masses of large bright yellow daisy-like flowers, so close to the single track line that we could reach out and grab the flowers. Eventually the train started to wind down the side of a ravine and we crawled across the spectacular viaduct, windows and doors open so we could lean out precariously to peer down to the bottom of the valley, and take photos with one hand on the camera, and the other gripping tightly to a a hand-hold. Not a good place for anybody suffering from vertigo!
We stayed one night in Kyaukme, at the only hotel in town licensed for foreigners, where clean, tidy, bungalow-style rooms went for US$20 per night, including breakfast served on the terrace. A small town with a busy, vibrant street market, we saw no other foreigners, and spent the afternoon exploring a couple of hilltop pagodas, and the narrow residential streets where, in tiny workshops, women rolled and stuffed cheroots, and men pounded and flattened sheets of tin to make chinese funeral offerings. Dinner at a Shan food stall where the fiery chilies brought tears to my ears, quickly cured by a couple of bottles of chilly Myanmar beer.
On Monday, we took a taxi for the return trip to Mandalay, where Zoe abandoned me as she had to fly back to Yangon to be at school the next day, and I stayed one night at the not-so-regal Royal Hotel in Mandalay before flying on Tuesday to Heho, the nearest airport to Inle Lake, billed as one of the highlights of any visit to Myanmar.
The billing is justified. The lake is nominally 22km long by 11km wide, but the actual dimensions are difficult to determine because much of it is shallow and becomes “land” in the dry season, and huge areas of it are covered in floating islands of grass and lotus growth, which is used by the locals to grow enormous quantities of vegetables, especially tomatoes. It’s rather surreal to be cruising along in a motorised canoe alongside rows and rows of neatly staked tomato plants, while the farmers paddle their canoes between the rows to tend to the plants or harvest the crop.
I stayed at Skylake Inle Resort, where Zoe had stayed in October, in a cabin mounted on stilts above the lake. The only access is by boat and the hotel’s boat brought me from Naungshwe, the small town at the north end of the lake which is a base for tourists, tomatoes and touts, in about 25 minutes, my arrival greeted by a quartet of dockside musicians playing traditional Shan music. It seemed like a VIP welcome, but I later learned that they greet all guests with a musical welcome, even the riff-raff like me.
In the afternoon, two girls in a canoe paddled me through floating weed beds to a nearby village of bamboo houses all mounted on stilts over the water, eventually to hard ground where I hiked up to a monastery and pagoda for a wonderful view of the lake and surrounding mountains. About 20 monks, probably aged about 8 to 12, were industriously filling bags of dirt which they emptied on to the steep, stony road to fill in potholes and channels carved by the recent rainy season. Then they vigorously trampled on the dirt in their flip-flops or bare feet to create a passably smooth surface which, I fear, will be washed away again the next time it rains.
On the way back, just before sunset, I saw some locals paddling their canoes with the famous, and unique to Inle Lake, leg-paddling technique. They stand on one leg at the rear of their canoe (I would have difficulty balancing on two legs, let alone one!), hold their paddle with one hand and wrap the other foot around it, and use the leg to impart a peculiar screwing motion to the paddle which is surprisingly effective.
More to follow............
T.
Comments
Love your discriptive account s and the photos of your trip. We save tons of money by letting you do the traveling and reporting!
Thanks,
R&R