23rd Oct 2017 Train from Mandalay to Hopin
After a sleepless night, I kicked
doors at 6am and greeted my intrepid explorers with the warmest alarm calls I
can conjure from my caffeine tightened larynx.
A quick shower to wash away the
film of sweat that clings like a wet blanket, some choice threatening words
while doing a little repacking, stretching rucksacks to their limits, we all
convene for breakfast. I’m starving so I fill up on white toast, water melon,
papaya, banana, orange juice and lots more coffee. I not sure when I’ll get the
chance to fill the rumbling void of my stomach again.
The taxi booked for 7.30 am fails
to arrive; both myself and Errol share knowing looks from beneath our sweaty
brows. We had a bad feeling about our arrangements when they were made; some
call it intuition, we call it experience.
Thankfully it’s no problem to
hail a bright pink taxi and our driver appears to have drunk more coffee than I
have. No speed limit or safety restriction stood in our way as we weaved
through the city. If we had of crashed I think we would have survived. We were
all crammed and crushed tight into the cab with our entire luggage, we weren’t
going anywhere and the law of inertia wouldn’t have applied to us, I’m sure.
At Mandalay airport, we were
greeted with a shocking level of efficiency. Not only were we cordially invited
to skip the lengthy cues, when at the check-in desk our fears about excess
luggage went unfounded. With all our
camera equipment, I was at least 5kg over, maybe more. We had discussed off
loading items into either Errol’s or Richard’s meagre holdalls but we needn’t
have feared, we glided through like visiting royalty and before we knew it we
were in our comfy seats inside our Air Asia jet.
Errol Fuller - John Hodges - Pilar Bueno - Richard Thorns Bangkok Airport
The flight to Mandalay took just
under 2 hours, no problems to report, in fact quite the opposite. The
stewardesses were immaculately attired and very healthy (nudge, nudge, wink,
wink).
On the last 30 minutes of the flight
into the city we saw below us miles upon miles of flooding from the monsoons.
My spirits dropped temporally, if we’ve timed our expedition wrong our search
in the lakes and marshes of the north will be much more difficult.
Flooded plains of Mandalay
From the airport, we were hustled
into a people carrier and spent the next hour sweating and bored being
delivered to our accommodation, The New Nylon Hotel. New it certainly was,
sparkling in fact and obviously recently finished, sparkling marble floors,
high ceiling and hard wood furnisher everywhere. Our rooms were spotless and
everything worked, first try, most unusual and a very pleasant surprise indeed.
I have only one critique of our temporary
residence. The architect who designed this place has put our electricity
sockets at least 7ft high on the walls, I’m not joking. To make matters even
more bizarre, our kettle had a lead no more than 10cm, why? I can’t even start
to understand or answer that. Not being a quitter I constructed my own Tower of
Babel consisting of tables, bird books and a peddle bin with our kettle perched
and lead stretched on top. Our kettle reached its two-pinned, electric nirvana;
we had coffee for the morning, happy travellers.
Our residence for the night - The New Nylon Hotel, Mandalay
Outside in the city of Mandalay
the chaos, grime and general decay reminded me very quickly that we were
definitely NOW in S.E. Asia. We spent a confused hour pounding the dusty; smog
filled streets searching for a pair of suitable and fashionable Wellington
boots for Errol Fuller and a bank to exchange currency. We succeeded in finding
the said banking establishment but unfortunately because it was three in the afternoon
they couldn’t help … don’t ask!
A fashion God, Errol Fuller and his newly acquired wellies
What was confusing was that while
being told ‘sorry we don’t want your currency and you certainly can’t have any
of ours’, looming from behind the cashier desk was the largest pile of money
I’ve ever seen. I’m not kidding, stacks of cash in piles across all the desks
at least a metre high. It looked like a scene out of the Al Pacino movie
Scarface and at this point I wish Al Pacino had of walked in off the street,
coked up to the eyeballs and armed with large weapons to bring an end to our
frustration and persuade the bank manager to change some damn cash for us;
“come and meet my little friend!!”
Back at the hotel, Richard went
to work on the manager and we did get some currency exchanged. While we waited
we quenched our dusty throats with a cold Mandalay beer whilst discussing the
finer points of theological and evolutionary principles with a certain ‘Mr
Fuller’, with a large portion of his sardonic wit thrown in for spice.
Pilar's first Myanmar selfie and first Mandalay cold one
The glamour boys
At 6pm we had our arranged
meeting with our representative from SST and met our guide and interpreter, a
fresh faced Lay Win. The meeting went well and we discussed search location and
schedules as well as a few theories I have to the behaviour and approaches to
searching the inhospitable habitat of the Pink-headed Duck.
In the evening we ventured out
and dined at a very nice restaurant Richard had previously frequented (Ko’s
Kitchen). Again, Pixie (Errol’s new name for Pilar) and I had spring rolls and
a green curry, delicious. Stuffed and content we left the restaurant at approx
11pm and Errol commandeered a taxi, complete with the driver’s wife in the
trunk; she was perfectly alive in case you’re confused, she just tags along in
the evening for a ride, apparently! By midnight we were all tucked in bed, a long
day of travelling lay ahead tomorrow.
Was it the heat, the fatigue or the fine cuisine? It's a mystery - Ko's Kitchen
24th Oct 2017
After a hurried breakfast and
arrangements made by the GWC for Richard for a radio interview for a Canadian
Radio Station, we were collected by our guide Lay Win with our mini bus and
driver to take us to the train station.
Today we have to embark on a 17hr+
journey north to Hopin and from there we have a good 90 minute drive to
Indawgyi Lake, our base camp for our expedition and search for the Pink Headed
Duck.
Waiting to board, Mandalay Station
A selfie from Pilar as we leave Mandalay Station
Lay Win had arranged sleepers for
the four of us, shared of course, we’re not spoilt. All I can say about the
train is I’ve been on worse. The beds were firm and unforgiving but the
alternative of sitting out the journey on old and broken bench type seats was
not an option.
Pilar snapped Errol Fuller and I testing the firmness of our bunks
Shortly after departure our on-train
meal arrived. Steamed rice and fried watercress with garlic, it was bloody
delicious, a good start.
Richard Thorns and I discussing the finer points of flower arranging after our meal
The miles drifted by in a green
blur, flood planes carpeted with rice paddies. Every mile or so a golden temple
would loom out of the emerald scenery, towering above the poverty of the
people, many of them children toiling in the fields under the hot sun,
reminding them of their place in the universal scheme of things devised by
their silent but ‘loving’ Gods.
"Train I ride, sixteen coaches long"
One of the smaller temples taken from the moving train
As is my usual practise on such a
lengthy journey, I while away my time bird watching out of the window. Between
us we spotted, Drongos, Kingfishers, lots and lots of Egrets, Pond Herons, the
acrobatic Green Bee-eaters and the stunning azure blue Roller, as well as a
large and beautiful selection of butterflies, many species new to my butterfly
nerd eyes.
The miles rolled on and on,
station after station filled with hawkers and peasants all trying to extract
our crumpled money from out pockets. It’s very humbling to see such poverty in
the second decade of the 21st century.
One of the many stations stop offs along our route with hawkers selling their wares through the train windows
What was obvious is the unwanted
title that Myanmar has for being the poorest country in South East Asia is well
justified. These poor people after decades of repression and exclusion from the
outside World have paid a terrible price. Basic sanitation for most of the
population is just a luxurious dream. I saw children, starving dogs and pigs
digging through rubbish heaps for anything to sustain them. Yet across the
landscape, towering above them are giant monuments of golden luxury, pagodas
and temples glittering, to be seen to every horizon. Personally, I do not
believe ‘any’ God would want such a disproportionate privilege heaped on his
people for the sake of the absent deities’ ego.
Typical scene, I have no words
We also trundled past the largest
wood yard and processing plant I’ve ever seen. Thousands upon thousands of
hardwood trees staked like a giant’s ancient matchstick collection stretching out in all directions. A whole
jungle destroyed to make planks of woods to be fashioned into kitchens, wooden
floors and furniture. As our train rolled past this huge tree graveyard we saw
lorries cuing up to bring to their final resting place glorious giants that
were recently the homes to countless species, rare primates, exotic birds and a
myriad of reptiles and invertebrates, many of which had most likely never been
gazed upon by human eyes. Was what we were seeing the final gasp of a once
pristine habitat? My heavy heart sank.
A small snap shot of the Jungle grave yard
The one thing that does come
through from seeing these small but beautiful people is the gleam in their eyes
and the warmth of their smiles. The troubles and often crushing oppression does
not seem to dim their souls. We have a lot to learn if we care to open our
hearts and minds and reclaim our humanity from the materialistic, modern World
I come from.
The air outside the train was
thick with moisture although the sun was fierce. Clouds of dragonflies raced
each other and often flew in through the windows to check out the weary
travellers.
As day dissolved into night, the
sounds of the tropics permeated the air, frogs and cicada song harmonised over
the dominant click, clickerty click of the train and we were treated to a
beautiful setting sun dipping beneath the distant hills, bathing everywhere in
a soft, golden warmth. Sleep was taken in short naps, rocked and bounced at
times violently in our berths by the motion of the locomotive.
I'm waiting for the light
Our beautiful star before darkness
Our old train finally pulled into
Hopin station at 2am; we were all ragged and exhausted but very relieved. Our
guide, Lay Win, had our driver patiently waiting for us and all we had left of our journey was an
hour and a half drive to Lonton, on the shores of Indawgyi Lake.
Lay Win our always smiling, incredible guide
It had been another very long day
but tomorrow our research begins and this is why we are here. Duck, if you’re
here I’m coming to bring you into the 21st Century along with your
forgotten country.
