Trip into the colonial part
In 1982 Burma was a remote place. Tourists could get a visa for 7 days. For a student, the disadvantage of a the short trip was compensated by the advantage of the low costs. For a bottle of whiskey and a box of cigarettes you get enough Burmese money enough for all the expenses of the 7 days. In addition, by taking advantage of the IATA regulations of the time, we managed to get the tickets from Bangkok to Rangoon and back for free from the Lufthansa office in Bangkok.
Shwedagon pagoda
Typical street in the town center of Rangoon
We arrived in a country, where little had changed in the years since the second world war. Rangoon was a decrepit, sleepy capital, where only its most famous attraction, the Shwedagon pagoda, the biggest in the world, had received some attention. Most of the buildings were broken down and moss covered. The streets were covered in dirt. At night in the hotel, where the sleeping quarters were only separated by low cardboard walls, somebody threw a dead rat over the wall from his into our room.
The morning after - night train ride from Rangoon to Mandalay
Intermediate stop of the train from Rangoon to Mandalay
From Rangoon we took a crowded, dirty night train to Mandalay. The town had been ravaged by war and big fires. The royal palace was reduced to ashes and only the freshly painted outer wall remained. Water basins at the street corners served as public bathrooms for the local population. Food was available from stalls in the street. Ancient English built buses, sometimes with wooden bodies, were the main means of transport. Besides some modern cars, like at least 25 year old beetles and mercedes´s, most of the rare private vehicles were from before WWII.
Train from Mandalay to Mamyo
For the British colonists, the valley of the Irrawaddy River, were most of the economic activity took place, was much too hot. Therefore they preferred to stay in much cooler hill stations in the mountains. In Burma, that was Maymyo. In the meantime they have changed all the colonial names of the towns in Burma and Maymyo now has the memorable name Pyin Oo Lwin. Like other comparable places in India or Sri Lanka, the town is a odd mixture of English countryside architecture and local additions like ox carts with Zebu oxens, colourful open markets and the omnipresent pagodas.
The (formerly British) government hostel in Mamyo has the atmosphere of the novels of Somerset Maugham, Orwell or Kipling
The main place to stay still was the former British government guest house, where we got a huge room and a splendid dinner. After dinner, we found that somebody had lit the huge fireplace in our room which was light after dinner.
In the streets of Mamyo
Preparing truck convoys into the mountains of the golden triangle
From Maymyo, we took a jeep back to Mandalay, where we boarded the boat, which ploughs the shallow waters of the Irrawaddy, down to the famous temple city of Pagan. On the boat, we had the luxury of a one of the few cabins, which we shared with a couple of monks. They offered us half of their water melon. After arrival in Pagan the next, my stomach went ballistic. I got so sick that for many years, I could not stand even the smell of water melon any more. To keep it fresh, the locals throw the water melon into water. Probably some bacteria survived in the melon and found their way into my belly.
Sunset on the Irrawaddy river
Pagan is one of the greatest historic sites on the planet. At that time, nobody took care where you went. You could climb the pagodas to watch the sunset, and the village was just an assembly of huts in the middle of the ruins. However, because of my bowels, my pleasure of the visit to Pagan was greatly limited. Walking around on the long dusty tracks between the ruins when you have to vomit or retreat into the bushes regularly is a bit inconvenient. Unfortunately I never had the chance to go back.
The plane from Mamyo to Rangoon
When I travel now, I already get nervous a week in advance that I might miss my flight back. We stayed in Pagan until the last day of our permit of seven days. There was a flight from Pagan to Rangoon but we did not have a ticket. So we went to the airport and requested a seat on the hint that we would have to overstay our permit if we could not get a ticket. And we got it.
View from the plane's window over the Irrawaddy plain
The quality of the scans is not great, but I hope it is sufficient to give an impression how things were almost 40 years ago.
Only a few buildings which survived the great fire in Mandalay. At the corner one of the public baths
Many street blocks of Mandaly are empty of buildings
One of the means of transport
Street cafe Burmese style
Street cafe serving juice of sugar cane
Two of the typical buses. Note the quality of the tyres
Bus driver in the typical skirt. Note the wooden body of the bus
Historic cars in the streets of Mandalay
In Burma I met Jonathan, who now is professor in Leiden. Even without internet we were able to stay in contact all that time
Cars were few, but an ox cart is better than nothing
