Aye, sixteen bleedin' hours on a train just to say we've been to Mandalay. The things we do for this Blog.
We arrived in good time at the station a mere 10 minute walk from our hotel in Yangon and were able to board the train which was waiting for the hoards of passengers to get on. Walking along the platform was a mission in its own right as there were people everywhere and queuing was not the order of the day.
A guard/army dude helped us locate the "upper class" carriage and he left us to look in dismay at what we were expected to spend two thirds of a day in. I am more sympathetic for sardines now and wish to start a campaign to free the innocent dozen on grounds of cramped tin conditions.
I'd estimate it was 6' x 4' and just high enough to fit in bunk beds and allowed a tiny cupboard in the corner. I have no idea why it was felt necessary to have this in situ as it took up space and offered very little in return. To finish the decor, we had a ceiling light (think bicycle flash light and then half it) and a fan. Neither worked.
Can you imagine sixteen hours in a steel box the size of a biscuit tin in near 40 degrees of heat? Almost like a sauna except that it shook so much that Bond would have had the best vodka Martini he'd ever had. Trying to sleep was like trying to drink a cup of tea with a saucer while doing the grand slalom- blindfolded as we were bounced around like a marble in a hurricane..
The sliding door slid closed only half way as the hawker sellers had jammed the runners to prevent full closure and thus allow them a foothold into a sale (we chanced a like warm Coke at Ks 1 400 and that was the end of that) and the window had to kept wide open to allow some kind of air into our cell- along with all manner of biting insects who had dinner on us. Literally.
Yes, that was home for the next 16 hours and arriving at Mandalay we had already sworn we were never ever taking the train again for that amount of time. We're flying back!
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