Awoke to see the rain coming down outside – a great shame, to imprison us in this way. All travellers are allowed a maximum of 7 days in Burma, so one of the most difficult of tasks is to organise one’s time to see as much as possible – it is a big country. We had hoped to be flying out to Pagan this morning, but had discovered last night that air fares have gone up enormously, + tho’ they are still cheap by international standards, they have been put out of our reach. It means the soonest we can leave Rangoon is on tonight’s train north, making the waste of a day because of rain particularly galling.
After a cheap breakfast downstairs in the canteen, we went off to Tourist Burma to book our tickets out. While there, Val + I came to the decision to split up for the week. After over 3 years of almost constant attendance upon each other, it was no easy decision, but with differing priorities as to places within Burma we wished to visit, it seemed a sensible notion. Good sense too, for it would give us a break, provide us with more to talk about. There would be no problems about safety, either, both because the country is generally safe, so far as we know, + because it would be possible to travel in a group. So, once the decision was made, we implemented it, buying one ticket for Val to Thazi (from where she would go to Pagan), + one for me to Mandalay (from where I would go to Maymyo.)
We trudged the streets for a little while then, trying to sell our duty-free – we’d had a go earlier on too, but Val had held out on the price. Now, we accepted just that – we made a fair profit, + it got it off our hands. Back at the Y, we arranged a small group to go on a taxi sight-seeing tour, but all of a sudden there were lots of people, + it was taken out of our hands. Fair enough, we were happy to be a part of the group. It seemed that everyone was also going to the Strand for lunch. We had rather hoped to be the only ones, but it’s in the book, it was always likely there’d be more. We went off early tho’, so we could pay a quick visit to the museum. Our opinions on it were exactly the opposite of Tony Wheeler’s guide book – the showcase ground-floor displays we thought dull, + it was the rooms upstairs which held the good stuff – puppets, wood-carvings, musical instruments. Then on to the Strand.
As we had feared, the group had grown to an unmanageable size, but we were waved across the room to come + join them in the communal fun, so we did. I disliked it intensely, for, as in nearly any group of that size, the general behaviour deteriorated, + I can’t abide bad manners. It was too large to be homogenous, too – one could only talk with one’s immediate neighbours, so there were no pluses + quite a few minuses to the arrangement. However, the setting + service were splendid, wonderfully old-fashioned – white tablecloth, silver service etc (except the quiet + polite waiters could not cope with orders barked from here, there, + everywhere…. + then changed. And neither Val nor I had any complaint whatever about our meals – Val had lobster, I had steak – tho’ a few of our companions did not fare as well.
At 2, 7 of us went off on our tour. The rain was easing a little, so it wasn’t too miserable. First off was a visit to the Botataung Pagoda, an interestingly different one, with a star-shaped mirrored walkway thro’ the middle. It could be quite a spacey trip if one were stoned. I was pretty blasted, + I wasn’t stoned.
Then it was off to the biggie of Rangoon, the Shwedagon. We climbed up to the platform, on which stood a huge golden inverted bell-shaped dome, but even more remarkable was the vast profusion of spires, temples, idols, pavilions, all colours, shapes + sizes, clustered around the base. It was more fantastic than Disneyland. We walked barefoot around the dome a couple of times, very comfortable on marble tiles.
Finally, we went to Rangoon’s floating restaurant, which doesn’t float at all. It’s a concrete building in the shape of a ship, set firmly on the bottom of a nearby lake. It’s a remarkably exotic place, + astoundingly was only built 10 years ago, by a Socialist govt. It most certainly is not intended for the people – we even had to pay 1K to look around the place. As part of the deal, our driver agreed to take us out to the railway station, after a half-hour pause to collect our bags + grab a bite to eat. The train turned out to be clean, modern + spacious, but decidedly Spartan, with plain wooden benches with no padding. Val soon enough abandoned the bench, + took to the floor on her foam mat. This left me with the whole double seat bench, but it really wasn’t long enough, + I was both cramped + pissed off. But it was my own fault – I could have found a space somewhere.
The big news. of course, is of our splitting up for the week. It has made for some difficulties in compiling this diary, for, of course, I could only follow my own story. It has also made for an interesting situation regarding photographs. We did have a camera each, but I think I must have got the Yashica, for my photos are almost entirely washed-out, while Val, with the Canon, produced some excellent shots. Could be something to do with the quality of the cameraperson too, of course. And actually it does make for an interesting mismatch between the story and the photos. I have very few photos, and even less of the activities recorded in the diary, while Val contributes some great photos but no story to back them up. Which means there are a lot of nice photos (from Val) with no context, and some rubbish ones from me which back up my words.
Our day in Rangoon (now Yangon) was busy, if somewhat marred by the presence of our fellow-travellers. But there you go.
