Pyay to Bagan TrainSailing to Bagan Zug
I don't think there's a straight line from Bagan to Pyay. The Mya Zin Yaw Express and Aung Kyaw Moe Express depart from Pakokku, stop at Bagan and then to Pyay. Departure from Bagan around midnight. Ask at the Bagan Highway stop. For everyone else considering this option: we have taken a coach from Bagan to Pyay, there is one coach per days, mostly local and not too quick (several stops), but comfort-able.
Every up-date on how to get from Bagan to Pyay by train or bus....We plan a journey in this sense for next February, but very little new information...we want to get from Bagan to Twandwe, but all travelers seem to suggest to make a journey in two segments...we don't want to go the way we would like to see the landscape.....
There' s no train or ship from Bagan to Pyay. However, if necessary, there are busses between Yangon, Aung Migalar station and Thandwe every day. Ie Aung Lan and Aung Thitsar are known to perform surgery every day. Ticket costs about 15,000 Kyats per passenger.
Myanmar Train Services
When, against all advices, we chose to go through Myanmar by train only, we did so on the pretext that we made a big error. Paul Theroux in The Great Railway Bazaar wrote about the Yangon (then Rangoon) train that things had slightly altered. We could now select either the lower or the higher grade, the cost being either two or four bucks.
The uppers were made of comfortable wood. If we had selected the wood seat, we would at best have blue spots and at best fractured pelvis. Other than Theroux's journey (the volume was released in 1975), the window was not cracked and it did not play a role that there was no restaurant coach, as men and woman with swag of groceries went on the boat for sales at each one.
It swayed and shaken angrily, and the ladies slid through the wagons without trip. It' interesting to go back to 1975 and speak to someone in Yangon. Burma seemed to have stopped in its tracks. That is very common in Myanmar. I' asked someone in Myanmar what it's like, and now I wrote'Chay Loun' in my notes.
At 11 pm the only train to Bagan depart from Pyay and depart from a different train terminal than the one we were at. The whole vehicle was to ourselves - bed, chairs, windows, bathroom, ventilators and lighting. There is no doubt that the vehicle was raw, with pools on the ground, dirt on everything, and many uninterrupted nets with small greasy moths that fly on the many bugs that have flown through the sashes.
Despite the dirt, our private sphere made us feel good, and the sheet was cleaned, so we turned off all the light and stared at the dark rice paddies and saw several hundred glowworms blinking in the bushes. When we approached Mandalay, we began to see rice paddies again, which gradually merged into water.
That was the least uneven of all journeys, but there was still the unmistakeable feeling of sitting in an old wood train. In Thailand, the train is slippery and almost noiseless in the air-conditioned wagons. Myanmar railroads had the old-fashioned click-clack of uneven track and open window to get a better look.
Top drawer, all the while. Just as the day was getting dark, we went into the small town of Thazi and stayed there only one evening before we drove via Bago to Mawlamyine the next day. We made a stop in Bago for an hours and had enough spare minute for Le Peys and some talks with interested people.
During the first stage of the journey we once again crossed rice paddies, this year half picked and more inundated. From Bago to Mawlamyine the second stage took place on sittings ( "there were no sleepers") and ended at 4 o'clock in the mornings as we walked past a number of gold coupons on far away mounds illuminated by floodlight and covered in the early mists.
Those who were not in the high society had to struggle for places. An unhallowed moment of the mornings in our luxury coach. The puzzling picture summarizes how we felt at the end of a very long train journey. There' s no bus to connect Dawei with Marlamyine, so it was necessary to make a frantic stop in Ye to switch the train, which meant walking to the Ye ticketing bureau to get our passports, and then jumping on a second train, just in case he could choo.
It was so near the train that knots flew into the window and flogged us. You know, overtime. Everybody was laughing and gesticulating wild, spat betels out of the window and generally had a great family. When we jumped off our last train in Myanmar, I voluntarily acknowledge that we were happy that we would not soon get back on another train.
Restricted Myanmar tourism permit (28 days) means that we had to hurry last fortnight. We would have paused at more train stops with the luxuries of the times, taken more train and probably felt much more invigorated. When someone in Myanmar says that travelling by train is a poor way, they are mistaken.
The old, woody animals romp around in nice places, are inexpensive, interesting and probably a race that is extinct when nations are upgrading their railwayage.