Getting Around Burma

At the time of our visit in 1986, because Burma had been closed to the outside world and trading had been restricted for so long, there was a severe shortage of most things that the western world takes for granted. Everyday items such as pens and pencils, and even rubber bands, were eagerly received. EL gave away her hair clips and grips to young girls who pointed at them and showed a keen interest in them. In Mandalay a young man approached us and asked Paul if he would trade his watch for US dollars. As Paul was rather attached to his old Swatch he regretfully declined. The next day, as we toured various temples and pagodas in Pagan, the same young man kept popping out of unexpected doorways in a rather surreal fashion, and repeated his offer. In the face of such doggedness, Paul had to give in.  

The effect of Burma's seclusion from the outside world was particularly noticeable in the varied and mostly rundown modes of transportation we encountered wherever we went. Cars newer than mid-50 models were rare. Willy's Jeeps, left behind by the Americans after WWII, were common especially up country. For the tourist, getting between the major cities could be done by air, rail, bus, or some form of taxi service. Air travel was, for the most part, unreliable. Two years after our visit, Paul's brother was wakened in his Rangoon hotel room by a phone call at 4:30am to be apologetically informed that his 6am flight to Mandalay had been cancelled because the plane had been commandeered by some military VIP. He found himself stranded in Rangoon for two days � not a happy situation when you are on a seven-day visa. Catching our flight from Pagan back to Rangoon was a tense affair for us: we expected, as independent travelers, that we might be bumped off our flight in favor of package tourists. Fortunately for us the flight was not full.

Buses provided a fairly common form of public transport around Burma. They tended to be rather ancient, unreliable, and very crowded. The bus that we caught from Mandalay to Pagan appeared not to have any suspension so the second part of our journey along a deeply rutted dirt track was a truly bone-jarring affair. Plus the inch-wide gaps between the floor boards let in gusts of yellow dust that made breathing difficult. Though we had an enforced stop for a VIP convoy the bus, quite miraculously, did not break down. 

Most vehicles, it seemed to us, were kept running by sheer resourcefulness and force of will. Because spare parts were obviously impossible to come by, many vehicles seemed to be held together by ingenious, home-made parts and devices. Gas or petrol was rationed and costly when available on the black market. To save on fuel, drivers free-wheeled whenever they could. The driver of the jeep that took us between Mandalay and Maymyo practised this form of economy. Unfortunately, his petrol gauge did not work and his hope or gamble that there would be enough fuel to get us back did not pan out. Another form of economy that Burmese drivers practised was to switch off their vehicle lights when driving at night, in order to prolong the life of their light bulbs. So a night ride was be a pretty hairy experience for the faint-hearted tourist.

Around Pagan and Maymyo, the most enjoyable form of transport was the horse-cart or carriage. It suited the pace of life very well.

menu � slideshow