Final day in Mandalay AKA Hunt The Post Office Day

Postcards seem to be a relic of old in this part of the world and the oft cited explanation that everyone googles or selfies or instagrams doesn't help when your mother is 91 and doesn't even know how to spell 'internet', hence a tortuous quest for cards and stamps. Having deliberately avoided hawkers of every description for weeks I suddenly found myself actively seeking them out when I realised that, for a 'small' contribution, I could choose from various offerings at certain temples. So time to cast aside my reservations and start the bartering process.

Many pagodas and many kyats later I found myself the proud owner of a pack of 7 so it only remained to write them with sufficient care that the recipients could actually read them (not easy with my scrawl that even I struggle to decipher), purchase stamps then post them, easy peasy! As if ......

Below various temples I visited in the postcard quest:

This was built by some king (there are many many of them, impossible to remember their names or who is who when you find out that some of them had about 100 children, not obviously by the same woman!) who wanted his power seat to look over the town below. Buddha presumably didn't like this idea as an earthquake hit it before it was completed, either that or he used some of the dodgy builders I've got lumbered with in the past:

Shades of The Omen?

What health and safety considerations?

Reminds me of an over decorated wedding cake!

Burma might be short of many things but temples, stupas, wats and pagodas are there in abundance.

But bells are far less visible hence my excitement when I visited the Mingun Bell, reputed to be the largest ringing bell in the world, but I've never checked that fact. But it's a bell, a big bell, and there's not a lot more to add! It just made a refreshing change from the usual temples, stupas etc etc and the thousand upon thousand Buddha images that are such an unavoidable feature of Burma:

Above: the bell house

Above: the bell's statistics

Above: the bell (obviously!)

Sightseeing out of the way and postcards purchased it was now time to concentrate on the main purpose of the day.

I armed myself with a map and set off for the post office once I'd got the cards and written them, cramming as much information as possible in a very small space. It didn't look too far for someone who, when not incapacitated with joint trouble, can manage a decent walk providing it doesn't involve steps or anything that requires me to bend my right knee. 20 minutes I was told. I can manage that methinks, not having allowed for the perils of crossing the road or the lack of scale on the map or that the 12 blocks didn't show the numerous side streets. It was a simple turn left then right then up to the city wall then turn left then right then second left. What could possible go wrong?

The City Walls with one of the 4 bridges that connect the castle to the town over the moat

The interesting notice that greets you when you get there

One of the (watch?) towers

Couldn't sadly walk via the castle side as there was a large notice stating that foreigners could not use that road and knowing that the castle is used solely by the military I lacked the courage to take a photo of said sign or defy the ban, unlike me I admit but I thought now was maybe not the time to prove how much I refuse to submit to dictatorship of any form.

So onwards (and onwards and onwards and .......) but at least not upwards!

When I read later that each side of the City Wall is 2 miles long it clarified why it took me the best part of an hour and a half to walk to the wretched post office, and it was HOT and dusty and the traffic was practicing for the Gumball Rally. But I eventually made it and felt as though I had located the Holy Grail, such was my relief. In fact I was so pleased with myself that I took a photo of it:

It only took me about 5 minutes of hand signals to work out which door I needed (there were several), purchase my stamps, then work out which box to use. It turned out to be the one on the left in the photo so with fingers crossed and more in hope than expectation I dropped the cards in the box. Mission accomplished!

Well, not quite. I had to find my way back but looking at the map I thought I would go back a slightly different way to see another view, after all, the road I decided to use quite clearly connected up with the main road to the south that I was after. I agree that my sense of direction will never win medals but even I can read a map and if it shows that a road goes a certain way then it obviously does. Right? Er, well, no, this is Burma and you should never take things at face value.

Religiously following my map it occurred to me after about 40 minutes that I seemed to be no nearer my destination than I had been when I left the post office. For a start I hadn't crossed the railway bridge I expected to and the lion statues were not listed on my map:

It was when I came to a smelly swamp like crossing with a bridge to a monastery that I realised I was probably lost. Hence my request for assistance from the locals:

Me, showing map: where am I?

Them: 22 Street

Me: yes I know, where is it on the map?

Them: 22 Street

Me: yes I know can you show me on the map?

Them: 22 Street

Me: yes can you point to it on the map?

Them: 22 Street

Me: yes here is the map now where on it am I?

Them: 22 Street

Me: on the map, here, where?

Them: 22 Street

Me: (unrepeatable)

Them: 98 Street

Just goes to show what a bit of frustration from a foreigner can do, they actually move the street numbers for you as though that might make it clearer.

This fiasco went on for at least 10 minutes by which time I had half of Mandalay stopping for a good laugh at my expense and all and sundry popping by with various suggestions. Eventually I decided I was on 22 Street with the junction of 98 Street but this was no longer on my map so I swallowed my pride, glanced at the darkening sky, and retraced my steps. I nearly did a jig of delight when I (eventually) saw the City Wall in the far distance.

By the time I reached the north/south road I had been on several lifetimes ago it had grown dark and it is at this stage that you discover that street lights don't exist in Burma, and that at least 40% of pushbikes and motorbikes lack basics like lights or bells. And since the so called pavements are death traps of broken slabs, parked vehicles and drains you have no option but to walk in the road. I kid you not when I tell you that I reached the stage of thinking that if I was run over that night then so be it.

I got back to the hotel some 5 and a half hours after I set off, growled at anyone who suggested dinner, took 2 anti-inflammatories plus 2 paracetamol, and went to bed!

So if the cards never arrive I'm going to, for the first time in my life, get very litigious, and SUE someone for wear and tear to body and soul, false imprisonment on 22 Strret, and the sudden onslaught of I'mgoingtogetrunoverandidontcareanymore-itis!