BY BOAT TO BAGAN

Feeling rested and significantly healthier, we set off in the dark to the “jetty” for our boat, along with packets of breakfast which the hotel has prepared for us unsolicited.  They’ve been incredibly kind and generous, particularly with the hints of illness we’ve shown during our stay.   A long steep staircase leads from the side of the dark road to the sandy litter-strewn banks of the Ayeryawaddy, as the Burmese call the great Irrawaddy river.  A single plank leads onto the boat, luggage tossed in the lower deck, and we look for seats on the upper deck.  They’re a sort of bamboo lounge chair, and quite comfortable, although the head rest has been made—rather comically, considering the average size of the locals—way too high for one’s neck.  No matter, there’s space to wander during the day and stretch out!  

We’re among the first on the boat, but it fills up steadily with perhaps sixty passengers.  An older Dutch couple who farm in southern France sit behind us, a scholarly Indian gentleman and ex civil servant and his wife sit in front of us, and there’s animated expectation before we leave.  No one checks tickets, identification, luggage, or is in fact even visible until just before we leave, when a couple of people walk back to the kitchen area with bags of tomatoes, onions and other food presumably for the breakfast and lunch we’re told the ticket includes.  Evidently this is the “crew”.  With no preamble, the boat sounds its horn, a handful of characters push us off from the shore, we turn south, and we’re off.

The river is wide and muddy, flows along  the western edge of Mandalay, and while early morning takes us past boats tightly packed with passengers making the early river crossing into the city, the far side of the river is almost entirely agricultural. Plodding oxen and carts are out and about, while herders walk with groups of skinny goats, and people bathe and wash clothes at the river’s edge.

After a big bend in the river we come to Sagaing, the town’s hillside dotted with golden stupas and a great sitting Buddha.  After that, there is less and less activity along the riversides.  There are some fishing boats out on the water, but little else.  Beyond rural villages comprised of a couple of handfuls of bamboo dwellings, sandy shores, frolicking children and more beasts of burden, there is little that catches the eye.  Breakfast in a box is distributed and we sit back and nibble on hard-boiled eggs and some sort of croissant.

The landscape is a parched pancake and looks frighteningly barren, all the more surprising in that water is so readily available.   Occasionally there is a burst of palm trees, or a patch of tropical green, but the further down the river we move, the quieter it is. There is a tea/coffee call mid-morning, so people line up for their cup and begin waking up in earnest.

An occasional barge puffs loudly down the river, but the biggest change in scenery are the growing sand flats along the shores, and the looming sandbanks in the river. The ship’s captain rarely moves straight ahead, but zigzags his way down the river.

By noon, the heat intensifies, despite the breeze created by moving down the river.  People are baking out at the back of the boat, as well as on the small bow, but most are taking cover in the largely shaded chairs.  At this hottest point of the day, a hot lunch of rice, fried noodles meat and some vegetables are served on heaping plates, but we find it far too hot to eat, and nibble on our bananas and tangerines left from our hotel breakfast.

It’s a tranquil passage, nice to just sit back and read and look at the river go by for most of the afternoon.  Another tea break with hot slices of a sort of French toast breaks up the afternoon, but by about 4:30 we catch sight of distant silhouettes of stupas and temples, and suddenly we’re there.
Getting off the boat with our luggage is tricky on the narrow plank with an occasional bamboo pole to hold on to, but from there it’s haggling with taxi drivers up the long sandy beach at Nyuang U.  A half hour ride and we arrive in New Bagan, the town on the northern edge of the greater archaelogical zone.  Ready for the next week, we’re especially happy to be out of the big cities and look forward to exploring the countryside and the thousands of stupas and pagodas in the area.

Click the link for photos of the boat trip.
https://goo.gl/photos/9d6CaHnBSKtLkrTb9