The train ride from Hsi Paw to Mandalay is well regarded as one of the most famous due to the architectural wonder that is the Goteik Viaduct. For a meagre two pounds, we had access to ‘upper class’ seating for the 12 hour journey. Upper class seating consisted of a comfortable, reclining chair and not much else. The train lacked glass on the windows, meaning debris flew in from outside, but all is worth it for the slow drive over the viaduct. When we arrived at Goteik station we were told that the train would wait there for an hour, so we explored the village and had a back to basics lunch. There was little to see here, but a market selling food to locals and tourists alike.

While many of the tourists got off at Goteik and took a taxi to Mandalay, we stayed on all the way. The train zig-zagged to the city, reversing at times, worrying us for a brief second. With the sun setting, more and more insects flew into the carriage, attracted to the lights at the top of the carriage. Some however, preferred to bother me, but eventually we reached Mandalay, our hostel and went to sleep.

*

“Hey, you were in Bagan.” I looked up to see Cat, a Danish girl that had been at the dinner table one evening in Bagan.

“Hey! It’s good to see you again.” I smiled. It’s always nice to see familiar faces when travelling and Mandalay would show many a familiar face while exploring.

“Have you got any plans here?”

“Not really. I think we’re going to rent some scooters and maybe go to a temple, but the weather doesn’t look so promising today. What about you?”

“I’m going to cycle around a bit. You’re welcome to join.”

“Thanks, but we’re going to use the scooters” I was feeling rather lethargic and Mandalay is a sprawling city, so cycling didn’t seem like the best option. “Maybe we could meet at the bridge later for sunset.”

“Sure, I think we’ll get a taxi from here, so let’s meet at reception at five?”

“Excellent, great plan!”

*

In our research, neither Viktoria nor I had found much of interest to do in Mandalay, but wanted to explore at least a little. We rented one scooter and rode out to the Kuthodaw Pagoda, famous for being the world’s largest book. (Yes. You read that correctly. The temple is a book.) Driving through the streets of Mandalay was a crazy experience, reminiscent of driving in India, with many vehicles and lots of horns beeping, but we arrived safely. The sky was grey however: a bad omen.

We took off our shoes and started to explore the pagoda. Surrounding the pagoda were a large number of ‘caves’, each of which contained a marble slab with text. This, is literally the world’s largest book. I didn’t have time to learn Burmese and read the book, so I left the slabs where they stood and carried on exploring the pagoda.

“Very beautiful” said several ladies standing inside, approaching us with the traditional thanaka, a face paint used in Myanmar to protect the skin from the sun and lighten the face. They painted both our faces and we certainly looked wonderful with golden leaves on our cheeks. “Do you want to buy a postcard? Hand made. Very beautiful.” Of course, we couldn’t get our faces painted for nothing. “I want to sell.” We perused the postcards on offer, but didn’t want to spend 5,000 kyat on just one, so we walked away, to see the inner area of the pagoda.

Just as we stepped from under the cover on the pagoda’s roof though, the rain came down. We darted under another cover, avoided some more people trying to sell trinkets and postcards and walked around the rest of the pagoda until we were back with the face painters. One more approached us, selling them at a much more reasonable 1,000 kyat. I succumbed and bought one, but in my defence, it is a very beautiful design. With the rain coming down, we called it a day and returned to the hostel, hoping the skies would clear up by sunset.

*

“The sun sets at 6:30” said the receptionist at the hostel.

“Okay, let’s leave at 5:30. That will give us plenty of time.”

We milled around until then, discussing with Cat what she had been up to since we last saw her in Bagan. While we had gone north to Hsi-Paw, many people travelled east to Kalaw. At exactly 5:30 we got on our scooter and began moving toward the bridge. Unfortunately, something terrible happened as we headed toward our sunset location…the sun set. The thing is, the receptionist had got it wrong. The sun was setting at FIVE – thirty, just as we were leaving. We decided to go the following day instead, allowing ourselves the evening to plan what we would do until then.

*

Having planned to have a lie in and leave around lunchtime, I was disappointed to be awoken at 5:45AM by a gentleman shouting down his phone. I guess that this is part of hostel life. Several people in the room gave him glares, commanding him out of the room. As we were awake, we went to the rooftop for our breakfast, got ready and rented another scooter in order to go to the White Temple of Mandalay.

The journey was long, 100 minutes, travelling south, going over a bridge, then north to the other side. When we arrived, the sun was beaming down on us. Had we not brought suncream, this would have been a very uncomfortable day. We arrived and saw the entire area was filled with shops and stalls selling more attractive gifts for tourists. We explored the stone lions, unfortunately damaged a few years ago in an earthquake, before wondering off the main path and stumbling into a gallery.

“I really like that one” pointing at a painting of a sunset over Lake Inle.

“$60” said the man in the gallery.

“$60?!” I was shocked at just how expensive it was. “I really cannot pay that much.”

“What’s your price?”

“20,000 kyat” I said, the equivalent of $15.

“Ooooh, very low, very low.” He took out a calculator, typed in 35,000 kyat. Already down this much? That’s encouraging. Eventually we agreed on 29,000 kyat, or just under 15 pounds. He even threw in a smaller painting as a ‘gift’, so I was quite pleased.

*

“Oh my God…” In the distance, I saw another familiar face: Fenan, a guy who we’d met in Bagan.

“Hey! What a nice coincidence. How’s it going?” He was just as surprised to see us as we were him.

“Yeah, yeah, good thank you. How long are you here?”

“Oh, just a day” and so on the conversation went. It was a shame. Fenan and I had had a deep conversation going into the night in Bagan and it would have been great to have another chance to exchange words with this man. As is often the way though in travel, one must say goodbyes earlier than wanted.

We got back to our scooter in order to visit the white temple, also known as the Hsinbyume Pagoda. Walking up the stairs, surrounded by this beautiful white stone was lovely, but when we reached the top, it was hard not to squint. The sun was reflecting from the whiteness straight into our eyes. Underfoot, the stone baked our soles, making it difficult to stand in one place for too long, not to mention all the small pebbles digging in. After a few photos, we descended and made a move to get lunch. 

*

We drove for 30 minutes, until we reached a village.

“Food?”

“No” said the man in the restaurant, smiling. We walked up the road, to another restaurant, far emptier than the first, but willing to serve us food.

“Fish?”

“Yes.”

“Please, no fish”

“Yes” I don’t think she understands. I took out google translate on my phone and typed in that I wanted no meat nor any fish. Thank God for Google Translate

“Okay” she said, smiling. Five minutes later, our noodles were brought, along with two plates of fish.

“You want the fish?” I said, passing the plate to Viktoria, me pale just from the thought of eating them. Viktoria on the other hand wolfed them down.

“Picture” said the waitress, with her phone in hand. We must have been the first westerners to visit their restaurant. Almost all the travellers in Mandalay took a boat over the river in some form of organised tour, so we were a special sight.

After our photo session, we travelled toward the U-Bein bridge for sunset. Standing tall, four metres or so above the water, the bridge breaks up the somewhat monotonous nature of the water, providing an exciting centre of activity. As the longest teak bridge in the world, it should perhaps be more famous than it is, but at least I (and you) now have a useful piece of information for any quizzes. Walking up the steps in front of us were four teenage boys, messing around, pretending to push one another off and into the water. Tutting, we walked past, not so hurriedly that we endanger anyone else who had come here for sunset.

Every couple of minutes, we walked through a small hut had been constructed, with seats, salespeople and plenty of cameras. We reached a hut with the smell of crisp potato permeating through the air, stopping us in our tracks. With the light lunch I’d had, I had to open my wallet and get some snacks. As I did, Viktoria began conversing with a a Buddhist monk resting in the hut who had excellent English. I joined them, sharing my food only to discover that he’d been a monk for 14 years, but before that had been a used-car salesman. An incredible change of life, I imagine. We sat with him for 15 minutes, before heading back to the start of the bridge to take some sunset pictures.

*

For our final meal in Mandalay, we followed a recommendation from some other travellers in our hostel. We went to a pizza restaurant only a few minutes from our hostel. But, just as we were about to enter, I heard a familiar voice and of course yet another familiar face from Bagan was here, two in fact: Saida and Lily. Unfortunately, they were leaving and we were arriving, but it was still nice to see them again. We ate some lovely western food, then returned to the hostel, for the next day we were travelling to the beautiful Inle Lake.

*

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