(^66) Yangon - Mywaddy (Thailand border)
Expecting the same bus as Mandalay to Yangon, and finding the bus
precisely the opposite was an unpleasant surprise. The seats were
extremely narrow and more suitable for tiny Burmese than bulky
Europeans. Two people could barely fit next to one another.
The ride was uncomfortable and it was impossible to sleep in such a
confined space. The lack of toilet facilities meant one couldn't drink
water as the bus seldom stopped. The drive through the night was
slow and, by daybreak, we had only made it to Hpa-An, from where
the trip went from bad to worse. Shortly after a breakfast stop, the
bus proceeded onto the mountain road. The narrow road with steep
and exposed drop-offs into the valley below didn't instil a great deal
of confidence. The route was so narrow and the corners so tight, the
bus couldn't always make the turn and had to do three-point turns –
actually, more like six-point turns.
Close to the top, roadworks caused lengthy delays. This wasn't your
typical roadworks, as all work was done by hand and supplies were
carried in woven baskets dangling from shoulder poles. The wait was
therefore an exceedingly long one before eventually being waved
through. Not significantly beyond that, and while negotiating an
incredibly tight corner, one enormous bang came from under the bus
and almost scared us all to death. As we were mere inches from the
cliff's edge, people let out shrill screeches and instinctively moved to
the opposite side of the bus. And I thought they were all asleep.
It turned out not the tyre, and the driver and his cronies crawled
under the bus. We were on our way an hour or so later—this could
have been in the 1800s. We were scarcely on our way, or the bus
stopped at a temple where monks handed out drinks in exchange for
donations.
leana
(Leana)
#1