Kyaukme to Mandalay via Pyin Oo Lin and Gokteik Viaduct

16th November

Another travel day, varied and eventful.

We had been advised to consider buying some food and a cushion for the train ride to Pyin Oo Lin, so we popped out after breakfast for a little shopping. Happened across the local indoor market and spent some time there browsing and looking at the merchandise. 

Then to the railway station. General hubbub of activity, and anxious moments waiting to see where our carriage was, whether there was a goods van – you know the sort of stuff. But in the event there was no need to worry – the train stopped at the station for 5-10 minutes and everyboody was most helpful.

A frisson was caused by the observation that the price of the ticket included an element for life insurance!

A lovely porter helped us get the luggage on board and then helped us to find our seats and stow the bags away safely. Then he returned to the platform and produced an ancient iPhone with which he took our photos, and all other tourists, through the open windows. We left him viewing the pictures and looking absolutely delighted with himself.

As the train came in I had noticed there were two classes: upper class and ordinary. Looking into the carriages (all the windows were open, so this was easier than you might expect) the only discernable difference I could see between the accommodation was that in the upper class the un-upholstered, brown-painted benches were adorned with a piece of white cloth resembling an anti-macassar, so I was not particularly disappointed to discover our seats were in ordinary class.

In fact it turned out to be a bonus, as our fellow travellers were about 60% Burmese, rather than European/western. The two-hour trip gave me plenty of time to practise my Burmese – “Mingalar-bar” for hello, “Chies-iu” for thank you. That’s it at the moment, so conversation was a little restricted. But plenty of hand gestures and lots of smiles and we got along just fine. [In fact I have discovered a third phrase, which in my experience is understood all over the world: “Manchester United”.]

We also managed to ask some fellow passengers to tell us when we were approaching our destination, which was a good thing because the train made several apparently unscheduled stops, sometimes in a village with no station, once absolutely in the middle of nowhere, apparently to let one man off. So counting stops would have been counterproductive!

The most fascinating part of the journey was, of course, the people. Not only were food and drink sold on the platform, the vendors also came on board and travelled with us for a time whilst selling their wares. I was seriously tempted by a huge bowl of noodles, chickens and vegetables, with a delicious-smelling source and garnished with coriander, chives and chopped chilli, but my recent experience of digestive problems has unfortunately compelled me to be extra-cautious. So I had to be satisfied with the smell, a couple of photographs and a lavish description from a German couple who didn’t feel as inhibited as I about risking it. Of course, though they described it brilliantly and with great relish, that made me miss it even more!

The high point of the journey was crossing the spectacular Gokteik Viaduct, a single-track affair built by the Pennsylvania Steel Company in 1901 at the request of the British government.

The viaduct is 102 metres high and 689 metres long, and an apparently very flimsy structure, which makes for an interesting ride. At the towers the bridge widens, presumably to give maintenance teams space to work and store stuff. There you can see down through the floor boarding, which suddenly gave me a sense of the height we were at, followed rapidly by a shock of vertigo. At another point we could see another railway line on the floor of the valley/ravine, which again brought it all home and made me a bit dizzy for a moment. Fortunately for me, I wasn’t affected as much as a woman in the next carriage, who at one point had an attack of the literally screaming abdabs!

The crossing took place at a slow walking pace, which gave you the feeling of gliding over the crevasse in an airship, particularly because from a seat by the window you can’t see vertically downwards enough to see any of the structure that’s supporting you. I’d love to have had a camera drone with me to take some shots from above and to the side of the train. Flying it safely back into the railway carriage through the window would be a challenge, though!

Eventually we arrived at Pyin Oo Lin station where we got off the tain, to the accompaniment of many calls of support from the Burmese contingent in the carriage, who by this time all knew we needed to be told when to disembark!

There followed a pretty nightmarish “private car” ride to Mandalay, in an un-airconditioned car without functioning seatbelts and a beep that reminded us that they were not functioning correctly every 30 seconds. As we approached Mandalay the scen became morerecognisable as a south-east Asian location, with increasing frequency of motorbikes, much more noise and bustle, and a general sense of energy and hustle that will be familiar to anybody who’s been to the region.

The driver was pretty uncommitted, stopping twice on the way out of Pyin Oo Lin to deliver packages, then asking if he could chel betel, then trying to persuade us to stop at a cake stall, before we lost patience and insisted he just get on with the job. When we got to Mandalay it becameclear he didn’t know the ocationof the hote, but eventually he found it by asking locals, only to discover that he had missed the turning and driving the wrong way along a dual carriageway to get us to our destinaton.

But when we finally arrived – bliss! We were greeted with cold scented towels and a glass of a refreshing chilled drink mmade of capsicums, green chilli, lime juice and pineapple juice that melted your heart and cooled your body. There was even a lift [US cousins: elevator] and a porter [US cousins: bellhop] to take our luggage to our rooms, which was particularly welcome for me, whose giant phlegm-coloured suitcase has been nicknamed “the green giant” by certain fellow travellers in our group.

So ultimately a happy ending to an energetic day, and off to bed after a great meal on the roof terrace with dreams of an exciting explore tomorrow.

Have a look at some photos of the day: Click here