This is Burma...

Note: Apologies for the long silence - mainly a result of poor internet connections in Myanmar and censorship of Blogger in China! Will now be playing some serious catch-up!
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I arrived in Yangon feeling pretty shattered having not really slept on the journey over. I checked in to my apartment (I'd decided to stay in an airbnb rental as hotels in Yangon are notoriously over-priced and poor quality) and had an extended nap before venturing out to explore!

Myanmar is a country undergoing rapid change. Up until 2010, it was subject to a tourism boycott and economic sanctions as a result of mass human rights abuses by the ruling military regime. Then, a quasi-civilian government was sworn in and democratic leader Aung San Suu Kyi was released from house arrest and as sanctions have eased, foreign investment and visitors have flooded in.

I was hoping to make it here before outside influences had made too much of an impact, and I think I did (just!) but it’s clear that the wheels are already in rapid motion. Initially Yangon felt much like any other big Asian city – the route from the airport took me along wide, six-lane roads jammed with traffic and past huge billboards advertising Samsung, Apple and Coca Cola. But as I looked closer the differences started to emerge. The (mainly colonial) buildings were mostly dilapidated, the pavements were rife with potholes and so poorly lit that most locals preferred to walk in the road instead, and most notably, I only saw two other white people all evening! I received quite a few stares initially but once I’d given them a big smile I got the same back in return!

Yangon: not the most attractive capital city in the world

It was dusk when I wandered into the centre and the pavements were crowded with local people sitting out on little plastic stools, having tea. As I passed one tea-house the owner waved to me and motioned the action of drinking tea – a universal language! - so I decided to pull up a stool. He brought me a small cup of sweet tea with condensed milk (Indian style) as well as a pot of weak Chinese tea which is apparently free and unlimited when you buy anything. I did my first attempt at a Burmese “thank you” and the man’s face broke into a huge grin! He was so excited that he started telling all of the other guests what I’d said (I think he was complimenting rather than mocking me anyway!). It reminded me how nice it is to have a simple little connection with someone with whom you have no common background or language. It’s good to be travelling again!

A typical pavement tea-shop

I’m doing my Myanmar trip in a slightly back-to-front way. My dear friend Emmeline (who also visited Nepal and Bhutan with me) is arriving next Saturday to travel with me for two weeks. Therefore I’m saving the “major attractions” until she arrives and am doing the slightly more off-the-beaten-path places first! So the next morning I was up early to catch a train down to Kyaikto, home of the Golden Rock: a major pilgrimage site for Burmese Buddhists.

The experience got off to a good start at the station, where the staff were all friendly and helpful even though none of them really spoke English. There was a huge sign hanging in the station saying “be kind to tourists and look after them” which seemed to bode well! I found my way to the platform and another guard rushed over to help me find the correct carriage and seat, where I settled down for the 5-hour journey. I was the only foreigner in the carriage (and on the whole train I think!). 

As soon as we set off I instantly loved it. I love the rhythmic sway and clickety-clack of the train. And you just get to witness such a slice of life that you don’t get so much on buses, where you’re mostly on a motorway or other similarly busy road. As we passed through the over-crowded suburbs, many houses and blocks of apartments backed onto the rails and I could glimpse women washing their hair with buckets of water outside, hanging out their washing on the roof, etc. 

Soon we left the city behind us and were out in the country. It’s the very end of the rainy season now and the grass is so, so green. People are of course much poorer here, tiny houses made of palm leaves were dotted through the fields, usually beneath a big tree (it gets into the mid 40’s in summer!). 

The traditional form of air-con

Rural life

Intermittently we’d stop at tiny rural stations where women would climb on board selling fruit or water or even thanakha – a traditional face paint which most of the women wear here (it’s quite bizarre – I’m still trying to get a photo!). I was always gazing out of the window soaking it all in and so invariably often caught the attention of those locals waiting on the platforms and when I caught their eye we’d exchange smiles or nods or a wave. It was really heart-warming. In one village the children had just come out of school at lunchtime, and so I got a LOT of excited waves there!

I’d read a lot of things to warn me off the trains in Myanmar. They are notoriously slow, often subject to severe delays and not reputed to be very safe, with stories of derailments, wheels falling off, etc. However I really enjoy travelling by train and have much preferred them to buses ever since I was little. Finally I decided not to risk taking them for a long, overnight journey, but to try them out on a couple of (relatively) short 5-hour ones. And I’m so glad I did! That said I have never experienced such a BUMPY ride! Not only did it lurch from side to side but bounced up and down so vigorously that I thought I might be thrown out of my seat! The only way to properly convey this is to share this little video and please note I was holding the camera completely steady at the time!  

Finally we drew into the small station of Kyaikto (the guard had told one of my fellow passengers to alert me when we arrived) and I gathered my belongings and jumped down. I knew I had to try to get a pick-up truck to the nearby village of Kinpun, in order to get another truck up the mountain to the Golden Rock. I was a bit concerned initially as Kyaikto was a very small station with a lot of locals around but no other tourists in sight. Fortunately as I walked up the stairs and out of the main part of the station I could see a few trucks parked up so I wandered in that direction and was soon spotted by a driver who called me over. It was one of those small trucks with wooden benches on either side where I was crammed in amongst the locals and in the middle were huge sacks of potatoes, baskets of vegetables and two live ducks. It was only after we set off and I felt something tickling my ankle that I realised there was a sack of (live) chickens under my seat! It was very surreal to think that less than 48 hours earlier I’d been in England! Off we went, bumping along the road and picking up a few more locals along the way (these ones had to sit on the roof).

When we got to Kinpun someone else directed me to a different bus stand where I could find a pick-up truck to take me up the mountain. This was NOT what I was expecting: it was the size/ height of an actual lorry, so I had to climb up a ladder to get on. 

My transportation for the final part of the journey

To me it appeared that it was already full up but of course they’ll always try to cram some more in so people were directed to budge up and swap places and a tiny space was found for me in the middle, where I had to step over quite a few people to edge through and ended up with my knees in someone’s back and someone else’s knees in mine! The front few rows were absolutely stacked with stuff that the pilgrims were taking up with them (they stay in rest shelters on the mountain top). I was confused to see that the two young girls in front of me were carrying a Samsung 32” TV box across their lap – presumably that’s not what was inside though! No sooner had we set off than the downpour started and I felt a nudge, and the couple sitting next to me offered me the edge of the huge piece of plastic which they were holding over their heads! I was quite touched, although really it just served to drip water off the end and into my lap. All part of the fun though – now if only I’d thought to put the newly-bought waterproof cover on my rucksack before loading it onto the back...

Finally at the top of the mountain at 3pm – only 9 hours after setting off(!) and I was ready for a little lie-down!

View from my bedroom - not bad!

Finally at 5pm I took the short stroll over to the Golden Rock itself. This huge gold-plated boulder balances precariously on the edge of a mountain. Legend has it that it maintains its balance due to a precisely placed Buddha hair inside the stupa! It was quite a serene sight, perched on the edge of the cliff, with a beautiful view spreading out behind it. Men were allowed to go up and put gold leaf onto the side but women had to stay back! As it started to get dark I wandered back to my hotel and enjoyed a lovely meal. I was intending to go back again for sunrise the next morning and yes I did wake up for it, but it was pouring with rain and really cloudy so I decided there was no point. All in all I spent about 20 minutes at the rock itself - I’m not sure it would have been worth such a long journey, if the journey itself hadn't been so much fun!

The Golden Rock

Men add gold to the rock, women just decorate the railings!

Pilgrims pay their respects

I took the two pick-ups back down to Kyaikto station where I’d arrived in plenty of time to buy my onward ticket to the small town of Mawlamyine – another five hours further South by train. I had to wait around for a couple of hours (train was late) and again attracted a fair bit of attention in the station including a whole family who lined their children up to have their photos taken with me! As I sat there in the plastic orange seats, I felt a presence behind me accompanied by a strange musty smell, and when I turned around there was a big hairy goat scratching itself on the back of my seat. I was not expecting that at all and I think my surprise must have shown on my face as it resulted in a lot more smiles and giggles from the locals! 

Kyaikto Railway Station: no English spoken here!

Here comes the train again!

Back on the train again and another thoroughly enjoyable journey onward to Mawlamyine where I then took a motorbike taxi to my hotel. Ahh how I’ve missed the motorbikes!

View from train: Kyaikto to Mawlamyine

More rural life