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A day in Mandalay
Spend a day exploring the diverse culture of Mandalay
By: Mary Gostelow
It was an early start, with a 3:45 am appointment with our driver, to take us to Yangon (Rangoon) Airport. Despite our flight being domestic, we were ushered to the international check-in, a cube-shaped room, like a square tennis court, the height the same as the length.
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Through tiny windows in one wall, agile young men checked paper tickets, gave us an appropriate sticky label to wear, told us to sit down. Later, they came round with boarding passes, identifying 'their' passengers by shape of sticky label (airline designator) and its colour (which flight). Very simple, very practical. They could also make sure, later, that no-one was being left behind.
They love bussing you at airports in Myanmar. We were bussed 100 yards to our 72-seat ATR, as used by all the domestic airlines. Ours happened to be operated by Yangon Airways. Last people on were half a dozen red-robed monks and a Buddha statue in a big bird cage. While they were still standing up the plane started taxiing.
An hour later at Mandalay International Airport, an enormous new terminal that almost rivals Hong Kong's, we were met by our guide Htun Myint (call me Hubert, he said). He wore a woolly tea cosy hat and an anorak over his short cotton jacket and longyi skirt. It is cold, he said - and at that hour it was fresh, even to a visitor not accustomed to the usual Myanmar heat.
We saw water buffalo ploughing; we went to U Bein Bridge, a kilometre-long teak wood walkway high over a lake with fishing boats and islands. A highlight not to be missed is the daily 10:30 am feeding of the 1,200 or so monks in Mahagandayon Monastery. Every day a different charity contributes the $600 needed to feed them: this time it was the Buddhist Association of Malaysia. In addition to scores of tourists, there were also, that day, a couple of dozen Malay and expats-in-Malaysia Buddhists, being photographed before they helped dole out giant platefuls of rice. Called by a bell, the monks started slowly processing, in double file. The reds of their gowns vary, and some of the tiniest - as young as five (orphans, we were told) - were in white. All carry their black bowl with lid, which they remove to receive a panful of rice. They go inside to an open-sided refectory, where tables are laden with condiments. They sit in the same seats every day, but do not speak.
Our lunch was also in an open-sided restaurant, the best in town judging by the numerous generals and other military enjoying their repast. There was a bank of washbasins by the entrance, and everyone washed their hands. Tables are
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deliberately small so everyone can reach the shared dishes, which are brought, together with individual portions of rice on green plastic plates, as soon as you sit down. Contrarily, if your rice is not finished you want some more, which is instantly brought. Work that one out.
We went to another temple, visited with some monks, climbed Mandalay Hill. Next time I want to try the Orient-Express boat, The Road To Mandalay.
It was time for our return flight, with another sticker, another bus. Departure time came and went but five minutes later our ATR touched down. Fifteen minutes later it was airborne again, having disgorged one load of passengers, had a cursory cabin cleaning, gained new passengers and changed all in-hold luggage. We flew on to Bagan, a 25-minute flight so only time for beverages. Then on to Yangon, which gave time for a full meal - well, a large Danish and a slice of delicious ginger cake. Our driver was waiting, we were back again, 9.15pm. What a day! The idea would then be to have, in the bar at The Strand Hotel, a Stranded in Paradise recovery - crushed lime, tropical fruit, lime juice and Mandalay Rum.
The day trip was arranged by the Strand’s absolutely excellent Guest Services Director, Tin Aye Khine (call her Tin), who used to work in a travel agency. The iconic hotel was built in 1901 for an English gentleman, John Darwood, who sold it on to the famous Sarkies brothers, and during World War II it was used as stables by the Japanese. Today it is managed by GHM, under charming General Manager Sukhdeep Singh. There are 32 rooms, and favorite is the 2,000 sq ft Strand Suite, which has a canopy bed and verandah. With its polished wood floors, open-atrium lobby, ceiling fans and indoor greenery, The Strand has more than a similarity to another Sarkies hotel, Raffles in Singapore. Before you leave, too, check out the hotel's outstanding boutiques. www.ghmhotels.com
The Strand, Yangon, Myanmar
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