A River Runs Through It

The Ir­rawaddy has a time­less qual­ity that cap­ti­vates as he takes a cruise through the heart of Myan­mar Paul Ehrlich

Hong Kong Tatler - - Life -

Pho­tog­ra­phy elow a yel­low-white, mid­morn­ing sun, the river be­gins to nar­row between jun­gle-clad cliffs. The only sounds are those of birds and mon­keys in the untamed fo­liage. As the ship slides through the lazy, caramel-coloured wa­ter in the trop­i­cal heat, the gorge closes in. It has a time­less qual­ity, al­most pre­his­toric, as if a ptero­dactyl could sud­denly take flight.

It’s day five of my 11-day jour­ney snaking north on Myan­mar’s Ir­rawaddy River from Man­dalay to Bhamo, near the Chi­nese border. The river, also known as the Aye­yarwady, sweeps down from the Hi­malayan glaciers through the heart of Myan­mar, for­merly known as Burma, to a fer­tile delta on the Andaman Sea. It’s the coun­try’s largest and most im­por­tant com­mer­cial wa­ter­way. Of its 2,170 kilo­me­tres, 1,400 are nav­i­ga­ble, but only

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