Myanmar, Burma, the road to Mandalay. It was a country that I had always wanted to
visit. The country that George Orwell
had been stationed in and Kipling wrote his famous poem, Mandalay about. People had told me that it was like going
back in time. No ATM’s, terrible
internet. That suited me. I wanted something that was different from
the rest of Southeast Asia.
Arriving in Yangon I took out my crisp hundred dollar bill
to get it changed. The money changers
here won’t take your notes unless they are pristine. The slightest nick or crease on a note and
they won’t accept it. You’ll have to
wait until you get back to Bangkok to change it. I jumped in a taxi and realised that even
though the cars are right hand drive they drive on the other side of the
road. This made for some terrifying
journeys!
Hotels and hostels are comparatively expensive in
Myanmar. You aren’t going to get the
same prices as you get in Cambodia, Vietnam or even Thailand. My dorm bed cost $16 a night. It was a nice place but when you are used to
$2 or $3 a night beds it’s a bit expensive!
The morning after arriving I headed out into Yangon. I had arrived in early March and the
temperature was already reaching the low 40s.
It is a dry heat and it does get cooler in the evenings although I
wouldn’t recommend going in April or May. Yangon immediately reminded me of
India. The streets were filled with
market stalls, there were colonial buildings and temples everywhere, the smell of food hitting your senses.
There isn’t really that much to see in Yangon. I spent 4 days there just wandering the
streets. Even though it was similar to
India in some ways it still had an East Asian feeling to it. Just wandering the streets taking in all the
sights and smells. Buying small plastic
bags of lime juice, eating Indian food in small side street restaurants. It was amazing to be somewhere so
different.
On my last day I took a walk along the lake. Aung San Suu Kyi‘s house was nearby although
I didn't walk past it. The road was
heavily policed and as I hadn’t taken a map with me I was sure exactly where it
was. Walking around a lake that had
become so famous internationally because a man had swum out to her house to
meet her felt strange. I’ve read varying
opinions on her, although I do not know enough to form my own opinion. She has however obviously had a massive
impact on recent politics in Myanmar.
Having refused to leave and being kept under house arrest certainly
takes some courage.
From Yangon I took the bus to Mawlamyine. I’d decided to come here after reading that
George Orwell was stationed here when he wrote Burmese Days. Rudyard Kipling had also stopped here
briefly, struck with the beauty of Burmese women, he completely neglected to
look at the famous pagoda. Although
there are more tourists now in Myanmar than there were before, Mawlamyine is
still a sleepy town that not everyone visits.
It sits by the sea, colonial age buildings lining the streets. I stayed in a hostel for $10 a night. The room was basic and had no windows, but I've stayed in a lot worse.
One afternoon I decided to take myself off into the
backstreets of the town. As I was
walking towards a temple I came across some kids playing football. They are obsessed with football in Myanmar,
more so than anywhere else I have been.
They begged me to come and play with them. So even though it was nearly 40 degrees and I
only had flip flops on, I joined in, running around barefoot getting run ragged
by children. The skills aren't what they
used to be! As we were playing monks
would walk past amazed at this random white guy playing football in the backstreets
of Mawlamyine. It’s one of my favourite
memories of travelling.
Again there isn’t that much to see in Mawlamyine, but I was
just happy to walk around the streets taking in the atmosphere. The food wasn’t up to much so eating was a
bit of a chore. The few days I spent
here though were worth it just for being able to play football with the
kids.
From Mawlamyine I took the bus to Mandalay. The journey was
at night time and all the hills were lit up with pagodas giving it an almost
eerie feel. Mandalay is a place that has
a bit of a mythical air around it due to Kipling’s poem. It is actually quite a new city. The roads are mostly built in grids and has a
very different atmosphere to Yangon. As
the moto driver took me to a hotel we passed Mandalay Palace as the sun was
rising. It was a spectacular sight.
The hotel in Mandalay cost me $20 a night. It was quite a nice hotel and the surrounding
area had a lot of different restaurants, mostly Chinese and Western. The day after arriving I walked from the
hotel around Mandalay Palace to Mandalay Hill.
When walking up the hill you have to take your shoes off. I was told that it would take hours to climb
it but it took me about 40 minutes. It
is well worth the climb just for the view over Mandalay.
The day after the moto driver that took me to the hotel in
Mandalay said he would take me on a tour of the surrounding areas. To be honest I didn’t find it that
interesting. I’ve seen so many temples
in Asia that trying to look enthusiastic at seeing another is becoming
difficult! He also took me to a
monastery. The monks are fed by local
donors and every morning they come to receive their food. Unfortunately the tourism industry has
latched on to this and they bring busloads of people in to see this procession. The tourist stand in front of the monks
taking photos, and generally make a nuisance of themselves. I didn’t really want to be a part of that so
I left earlier. The moto driver wasn’t
too impressed, but I was paying him.
The last place he took me to was a wooden bridge. It stretches out across the river in Mandalay. As I was walking across the bridge a random
foreigner asked me if the place I was staying in was expensive and if it wasn’t
did I mind sharing. I declined and he
look disappointed. Did he really expect
people to accept his offer?
My last night in Myanmar I sat with the locals watching
football. Their knowledge of football
was incredible. They knew about teams
and players that you would never have expected them to know about. The local people in Myanmar are extremely
friendly and inquisitive. Most of them
are genuine too, they are not just looking to sell you something.
On my last day I took the plane back to Bangkok from
Mandalay. I had spent 2 weeks in Myanmar
and although I hadn’t visited many places and I had completely missed out on
seeing the temples of Bagan I still really enjoyed the time I spent. I went to places that were more out of the
way in the cities and I found the experience more enjoyable not just visiting
all the must go to tourist places.
I would love to go back to Myanmar and spend more time
seeing parts of the country that I missed.
It is much more accessible than it has ever been and the tourist
industry is growing quickly. The country
is also developing quickly. When I was
there in early 2014 there were ATMs that accepted international cards and the
internet was nowhere near as bad as had been made out to me.
Mandalay
By the old Moulmein Pagoda, lookin' lazy
at the sea,
There's a Burma girl a-settin', and I know she thinks o' me;
For the wind is in the palm-trees, and the Temple-bells they say:
"Come you back, you British soldier; come you back to Mandalay!"
Come you back to Mandalay,
Where the old Flotilla lay:
Can't you 'ear their paddles chunkin' from Rangoon to Mandalay?
On the road to Mandalay,
Where the flyin' fishes play,
An' the dawn comes up like thunder outer China
'crost the Bay!
'Er petticoat was yaller an' 'er little cap was green,
An' 'er name was Supi-yaw-lat - jes' the same as Theebaw's Queen,
An' I seed her first a-smokin' of a whackin' white cheroot,
An' a-wastin' Christian kisses on an 'eathen idol's foot:
Bloomin' idol made o' mud -
Wot they called the Great Gawd Budd -
Plucky lot she cared for idols
When I kissed 'er where she stud!
On the road to Mandalay,
Where the flyin' fishes play,
An' the dawn comes up like thunder outer China
'crost the Bay!
When the mist was on the rice-fields an' the sun was droppin' slow,
She'd git 'er little banjo and she'd sing "Kulla-lo-lo!"
With 'er arm upon my shoulder an' 'er cheek agin my cheek
We useter watch the steamers an' the hathis pilin' teak.
Elephants a-pilin' teak
In the sludgy, squdgy creek,
Where the silence 'ung that 'eavy you was 'arf afraid to speak!
On the road to Mandalay,
Where the flyin' fishes play,
An' the dawn comes up like thunder outer China
'crost the Bay!
But that's all above be'ind me - long ago an' fur away,
An' there ain't no buses runnin' from the Bank to Mandalay;
An' I'm learnin' 'ere in London what the ten-year soldier tells:
"If you've 'eard the East a-callin', you won't never 'eed naught else."
No! You won't 'eed nothin' else
But them spicy garlic smells,
An' the sunshine an' the palm-trees an' the tinkly Temple-bells;
On the road to Mandalay,
Where the flyin' fishes play,
An' the dawn comes up like thunder outer China
'crost the Bay!
I am sick o' wastin' leather on these gritty pavin'-stones,
An' the blasted English drizzle wakes the fever in my bones;
Tho' I walks with fifty 'ousemaids outer Chelsea to the Strand,
An' they talks a lot o' lovin', but what do they understand?
Beefy face an' grubby 'and -
Law! Wot do they understand?
I've a neater, sweeter maiden in a cleaner, greener land!
On the road to Mandalay,
Where the flyin' fishes play,
An' the dawn comes up like thunder outer China
'crost the Bay!
Ship me somewhere's east of Suez, where the best is like the worst,
Where there aren't no Ten Commandments an' a man can raise a thirst;
For the Temple-bells are callin', an' it's there that I would be ---
By the old Moulmein Pagoda, lookin' lazy at the sea;
On the road to Mandalay,
Where the old Flotilla lay,
With our sick beneath the awnings when we went to Mandalay!
On the road to Mandalay,
Where the flyin' fishes play,
An' the dawn comes up like thunder outer China
'crost the Bay!
There's a Burma girl a-settin', and I know she thinks o' me;
For the wind is in the palm-trees, and the Temple-bells they say:
"Come you back, you British soldier; come you back to Mandalay!"
Come you back to Mandalay,
Where the old Flotilla lay:
Can't you 'ear their paddles chunkin' from Rangoon to Mandalay?
On the road to Mandalay,
Where the flyin' fishes play,
An' the dawn comes up like thunder outer China
'crost the Bay!
'Er petticoat was yaller an' 'er little cap was green,
An' 'er name was Supi-yaw-lat - jes' the same as Theebaw's Queen,
An' I seed her first a-smokin' of a whackin' white cheroot,
An' a-wastin' Christian kisses on an 'eathen idol's foot:
Bloomin' idol made o' mud -
Wot they called the Great Gawd Budd -
Plucky lot she cared for idols
When I kissed 'er where she stud!
On the road to Mandalay,
Where the flyin' fishes play,
An' the dawn comes up like thunder outer China
'crost the Bay!
When the mist was on the rice-fields an' the sun was droppin' slow,
She'd git 'er little banjo and she'd sing "Kulla-lo-lo!"
With 'er arm upon my shoulder an' 'er cheek agin my cheek
We useter watch the steamers an' the hathis pilin' teak.
Elephants a-pilin' teak
In the sludgy, squdgy creek,
Where the silence 'ung that 'eavy you was 'arf afraid to speak!
On the road to Mandalay,
Where the flyin' fishes play,
An' the dawn comes up like thunder outer China
'crost the Bay!
But that's all above be'ind me - long ago an' fur away,
An' there ain't no buses runnin' from the Bank to Mandalay;
An' I'm learnin' 'ere in London what the ten-year soldier tells:
"If you've 'eard the East a-callin', you won't never 'eed naught else."
No! You won't 'eed nothin' else
But them spicy garlic smells,
An' the sunshine an' the palm-trees an' the tinkly Temple-bells;
On the road to Mandalay,
Where the flyin' fishes play,
An' the dawn comes up like thunder outer China
'crost the Bay!
I am sick o' wastin' leather on these gritty pavin'-stones,
An' the blasted English drizzle wakes the fever in my bones;
Tho' I walks with fifty 'ousemaids outer Chelsea to the Strand,
An' they talks a lot o' lovin', but what do they understand?
Beefy face an' grubby 'and -
Law! Wot do they understand?
I've a neater, sweeter maiden in a cleaner, greener land!
On the road to Mandalay,
Where the flyin' fishes play,
An' the dawn comes up like thunder outer China
'crost the Bay!
Ship me somewhere's east of Suez, where the best is like the worst,
Where there aren't no Ten Commandments an' a man can raise a thirst;
For the Temple-bells are callin', an' it's there that I would be ---
By the old Moulmein Pagoda, lookin' lazy at the sea;
On the road to Mandalay,
Where the old Flotilla lay,
With our sick beneath the awnings when we went to Mandalay!
On the road to Mandalay,
Where the flyin' fishes play,
An' the dawn comes up like thunder outer China
'crost the Bay!





No comments:
Post a Comment