Sail Into Deepest Myanmar - Travel Article

7/29/2019 Sail Into Deepest Myanmar - Travel Article

1/7

High quality global journalism requires investment. Please share this article with othersusing the link below, do not cut & paste the article. See ourTs&Cs and CopyrightPolicy for more detail. Email [email protected] to buy additionalrights. http://www.ft.com/cms/s/2/36aec9b4-08eb-11e3-ad07-00144feabdc0.html#ixzz2f1lJqObi

August 23, 2013 8:00 pm

Sail into deepestMyanmarBy Peter Hughes

A new Orient-Express ship offers a voyage up the monsoon-

swollen, little-visited Chindwin

Len

Chapman

Massein monastery on the upper Chindwin


2/7

We reached the confluence of the two rivers in the evening, six hours after leavingMandalay. Downstream stretched the Irrawaddy, one of the great rivers of Asia. To the

right, across a snaking sandbar, was the Chindwin, a river where navigation becomes

trickier, the guide books thinner and cruises are still relatively rare.

We seemed to be at the centre of a huge flood, almost 7km wide. Despite the expanse of

water, the ship slowed to a tiptoe, feeling for a channel in which to make the sharp turn

north. On the bridge, Capt Aung Nyein, a small man whose jet-black hair belies his 64

years, scrutinised the current for the eddies and ruffles that would betray the

topography of the riverbed.

Captains know where the different channels lie but, because the sandbanks keep

shifting, they can only gauge which one to follow by reading the water. Capt Nyein, who

has worked on the rivers for 42 years, called for a sailor to take soundings with a 6-metre bamboo pole. We have an echo sounder, but sometimes we feel more

comfortable with the old ways, he told me.

In Myanmar, a country which was only readmitted to travels mainstream two years ago,

the upper Chindwin remains a tourist backwater. Its only navigable by a handful of

cruise ships when river levels rise during the summer monsoon, from May to mid-

October. I was making my fourth visit to the country to take an 11-day cruise up the

Chindwin, a voyage of more than 1,600km, on a new ship, the Orcaella. Sailing from

Mandalay, we headed southwest on the Irrawaddy before following the Chindwin

northwards for eight days, as far as it is navigable by cruise boats. On the return, riding

with the current, it took three days to reach our final destination, the fabled temples of

Bagan.


3/7

Orcaella is the second boat in Myanmar to be operated by Orient-Express, the group

which runs luxuryhotels, trains and boats around the world, from Venice to Machu

Picchu. The first, launched 17 years ago, was a converted Rhine cruiser; the new vessel

was purpose-built in Yangon, the former capital. Its 31 metres shorter and draws less

water, enabling it to navigate remote waterways such as the Chindwin which, even attheir deepest, are too shallow, and their turns too tight, for the bigger ship.

Not that you would realise this from looking at a river that is a good 450 metres wide.

Nor, from the Chindwins rugged little boats and simple villages, would you guess that

you are in a land undergoing one of the most extraordinary metamorphoses of any

country in the world. The cars, advertisements and shopping malls of the new Myanmar

stop well short of the banks of the Chindwin. Here, the guides behaviour is the most

obvious evidence of change. Once forbidden to discuss politics on pain of jail, and given

a list of answers should the subject come up, they now openly mock their former

leaders.

Corbis

The temples of Bagan

Myanmar patient, put-upon, smiling, impoverished, mesmerising has to be among

the most welcoming of countries to the traveller. It is surpassingly photogenic. The

landscape is prickled with eruptions of Buddhist temples, their spikystupas like

countless gilded teats offering spiritual sustenance. Men wrestle with wooden ploughs


4/7

drawn by bullocks; buffaloes haul carts with wheels big enough for medieval siege

engines.

Villages of bamboo houses, raised on stilts of teak, jostle at the waters edge between the

colossi of acacia trees; tugs haul trains of barges loaded with oil drums and timber.

Small freighters and rapid wooden passenger boats with sagging gunwales advance,horns trumpeting, their deafening engines battering the air with noise.

Peter Hughes

Food vendors wait beside the river for a ferry

The scarcity of western tourists meant we were as curious to Chindwin villagers as they

were to us. Everyone was willingly photographed; not once on the Chindwin were we

hassled by beggars or hucksters. Even at the tourist hotspot of Bagan, where the cruise

ended, there were only kids trying to sell postcards.

Monywa is the first place of any size on the Chindwin. We arrived on our second day. It

was a full moon and thus a carnival day for families at the Thanboddhay Temple. But

the crowds milling around the pagoda buildings, painted in garish, tutti-frutti colours,

were as nothing compared with the tumult of Buddha figures populating the temple

itself. Every surface swarmed with tiny Buddhas, more than half a million of them.

Outside they are crowded into obelisks; inside they are perched all the way up the walls

on skinny ledges. The large Buddhas, before which families were praying, had haloes of

flashing lights radiating from their heads. Buddhas from Las Vegas, observed our

guide.

The temple was constructed during the second world war. Despite the Chindwin beingon the front line, the building was undamaged. When it was completed, the war ended, a

conjunction of events auspicious enough for it to become an important place of

pilgrimage. Nearby, the proliferation of Buddhas continues in a plantation of bo trees

(Buddha attained enlightenment beneath a bo). In row upon row, identical Buddha

figures, half life-size, sit beneath jaunty little concrete umbrellas. There are some 7,000


5/7

now; the target is 10,000. The Buddha explosion reaches its apotheosis in a single statue

130 metres tall, more than double the height of Nelsons Column.

In the monastery at Mokehtaw on day three, we witnessed the initiation of 10-year-old

monks, bewildered-looking boys whose heads were ceremonially shaved in front of the

congregation. On the fifth day, in Mawlaik, once headquarters of the Bombay BurmahTrading Company, we ate dinner, prepared by the ships chef, in a colonial

administrators handsome teak house. The Edwardian villa, beside an unkempt golf

course, was what the expats from upcountry, who came for some R&R, called a

chummery. The next morning we drove into the hills behind Mawlaik in the back of

trucks to watch a demonstration of elephants working in the forest.

Orcaellas excursions are enjoyable, though some stops have been trimmed from the

original itinerary because the ship is slower than expected in the Chindwins currents.

That means there are long, often monotonous, passages on the river with little

happening on the ship. Of three lectures on board, one was on folding towels into

animal shapes.

A fast launch accompanied us from Mandalay. At each stop, it ferried us ashore before

speeding ahead to prepare for our next landing. At the gangplank, boys held bamboo

poles as hand rails; on shore, there were refreshments and cold hand wipes.

The river cut through sandstone cliffs and twisted between wooded bluffs; forest

tumbled to the waters edge. Orcaella pushed against the stream, making lazy zigzags on

water soupy with sediment to follow the invisible channel.

Like many river boats, Orcaella, which takes its name from a species of Irrawaddy river

dolphin, could be first cousin to the Portakabin. The snub nose and boxy lines are

nothing if not functional. The 25 two-berth cabins use traditional wood, wicker andfabrics. In four categories, including two forward-facing balcony suites, they are well

thought-out, with individual air conditioning, hardwood floors and smart shower

rooms.


6/7

Zaw Min Yu

A balcony suite at the bow of the Orcaella

Deluxe cabins the lowest grade have scant storage for two people over 11 nights, but

the middle-of-the-range staterooms are attractive, being spacious enough for two

armchairs and a walk-in wardrobe. Every cabin has a television, writing desks and floor-

to-ceiling windows for a VistaVision view of the country. Wide sliding panes admit thesteamy tropical air and the sights and sounds of the river.

The public areas are more contemporary. On the top deck is a small, fashionably

granite-coloured swimming pool with 15 sunbeds but no parasols. Behind it are a spa,

fitness room and air-conditioned bar.

More incongruous is the restaurant. Its white marble pillars and shiny chrome reminded

me of the cosmetics floor of a department store. Thats a matter of taste. The same cant

be said of the windows, which are too small and in the wrong place. Sitting at a

window table, you have to look back over your shoulder to see out.

These are early days for Orcaella I was on its second voyage and there are matters,untypical of Orient-Expresss normal high standards, which need attention. Many found

the food disappointing. Menus were repetitive and the Thai chef seemed to have a surer

touch with Asian dishes than she had with western. Service was provided with

considerably more Burmese charm than training.

On the last night, when the companys general manager was in the restaurant, there was

a minor insurrection. One passenger marched out shouting that he had waited 25


7/7

minutes for his meal, typical on this cruise, his protest applauded by two tables of

equally disgruntled French.

Peter Hughes

A Naga dancer in Homalin

At Homalin, we turned round. Raindrops pitted the river and leached the colour from

the sky. Water and clouds took on the same vaguely brown wash. Across the border, in

India, rose the high peaks of the Manipur Hills, acolytes of the Himalayas. Homalin is

an immigrant town. Shan from the east and Nagas from Nagaland in the north have

settled there. Troupes from both groups performed in discreet yet dogged rivalry, the

Naga in their quarter with spears and harmonies, the Shan, on the quayside, with drums

and dancers.

In the afternoon, Orcaella scudded south on the Chindwins powerful stream. Rudyard

Kipling wrote, This is Burma, and it will be quite unlike any land you know about. Hiswords have never been truer. Myanmar, back in the international fold, will never be

more distinctive than now.

-------------------------------------------

Details

Peter Hughes was a guest ofOrient-Express andCazenove and Loyd. Cazenove and

Loyd offers 11-night cruises on the Orcaella from 5,870 per person including private

transfers, full board, domestic flights, entrance fees and return international flights to

Yangon from London with British Airways. In January 2014, a 14-night tour,

including Yangon and an Orcaella cruise, will be accompanied by Robert Gordon,

former British ambassador to Myanmar (from 6,158 per person)

Documents

Sail Into Deepest Myanmar - Travel Article