Travels through a golden land

Inside the carriage it rained leaves.

Otherwise, it was a normal train, rattling through northern Myanmar, with harsh wooden seats that vibrated their occupants cross-country. A corner of the carriage was walled off as a ‘toilet’: a hole in the bottom of the train where you could inspect the sleepers as they hurtled by below you, and, if you were brave enough, do your business.

But we were most fascinated by the falling foliage.

We were travelling from Lashio, a pretty town nestled among the hills of the Shan State, to Mandalay, a bustling metropolis whose development never completely overran its romanticism, a throwback to its days as the royal capital. Our journey would take us over Goktiek Viaduct, a 100m high trestle that, at the beginning of the 20th century, was the highest railway bridge in the world.

We bumped through dense, tropical jungle. It was hot and humid, and the train’s construction predated air conditioning by at least a century. Luckily, huge sliding windows were installed along the carriage, allowing air to rush in, cooling us. These open windows were heaven; closing them was unthinkable. I took a window seat, retrieved my book, and began to read.

THWACK-THWACK-THWACK-THWACK-THWACK!

We’d passed a patch of particularly overgrown plants. Leafy branches whipped against the window rim and pulverised leaves rained down on our laps. We laughed at this quirky, seemingly isolated event.

In actuality, the entire route from Lashio to Mandalay was overgrown, and for the rest of the trip to Goktiek Viaduct the weather inside the carriage ranged from light shower to botanical blizzard, depending on the train’s speed.

After forty minutes in an unavoidable green downpour the train began to slow. During brief ‘dry spells’ we leaned eagerly out the windows and caught glimpses of the Viaduct, which, despite being touted as a miracle of British engineering, appeared to be made from matchsticks.

As the train pulled onto the Viaduct it slowed for dramatic effect. The surrounding jungle fell away, leaving only air around us. The exposure was incredible. Through these huge open windows we saw the densely carpeted valley floor an impossible distance below, running away to meet the horizon. We were birds, soaring high above the wilderness below, free from the shackles of gravity.

As we landed on the other side of the Viaduct, we pulled ourselves back inside the carriage, buzzing with adrenaline.

THWACK-THWACK-THWACK-THWACK-THWACK!

Here we go again.