I could hear the voices loud and clear now. They were getting closer. Young men in black dresses circled around us. We were surrounded. Their eyes glowed in the night. Who were they? What did they want? I suddenly realized. It was the crew! They wanted to carry our luggage. We let it go and headed to the boat. The sun rose and we started to drift. The adventure was about to begin.
I bet you heard the song On the road to Mandalay by Frank Sinatra. Well, it’s actually not a road but the Irrawaddy River in Myanmar. It flows between Rangoon to Mandalay and has been used for ages to travel the region. My trip on the river went backwards – I started on the dusty streets of Mandalay and set course towards the mysterious temple city of Bagan.
Boats depart all year around and the trip to Bagan takes about ten hours. The river gets dried up during dry seasons and boats easily get stuck in the low water. “It’s almost impossible to go upstream, north of Mandalay”, the skipper said. Would we make it downstream? We were about to find out. The two boys in the front put a stick into the water, shouting out the depth to the captain. He was navigating the shallow water with precision. It wasn’t the first time.
Two boys in the front put a stick into the water, shouting out the depth to the captain. He was navigating the shallow water with precision. It wasn’t the first time.
The first hour is the most scenic part. You will pass the old royal cities of Myanmar along the river. The most beautiful one is Sagaing situated on a steep hill covered of lush trees. The view from the river is something out of the ordinary. White temples and golden stupas shimmer in the morning sun. Monks doing their morning rituals. You can hear the temple bells ring all the way to the boat.
About half way we made a stop at Lekkapin. We walked through the small village. Wooden houses with open windows. Scenes from daily life flashed us by as zapping between TV channels. Artisans crafting a hat. A farmer on a haystack. Tea in an open living room. They watched us with curiosity from inside the houses. Suddenly a cookfight!
Myanmar is the least exploited country in Southeast Asia. Being colonized for a long time, it’s not until lately the country’s been opening up to the outer world. It’s like Thailand in the 1950s.
A man watched the fight from his porch. He was smoking a Burmese cigar made of leaves, known as a cheroot. He slowly exhaled the smoke. Two boys with a traditional decoration called thanaka on their faces walked by. The white paste is made from tree bark and is used widely in Myanmar. It is said to keep your skin forever young. Finally someone found the magic recipe.
The journey continued. A flat and barren landscape passed us by as we were served some traditional Burmesian food. Lonely fishermen in boats, kids taking an afternoon swim. The sun was hot but a fresh breeze kept us cool. Drinks were made in the on board bar. English gin with a touch of vermouth. An air of the colonial times still remain.
We arrived just before sunset. The ancient temples of Bagan rised in front of us. The city is the most spectacular sight in Myanmar. Thousands of temples, stupas, and monasteries as far as you can see. Marco Polo once described it as “the most beautiful place in the world”. We indulged the moment and headed to the hotel. The sun set and the river turned purple.
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