|
 There
was great excitement when someone spied the Gokteik Bridge. Everyone
rushed to take a photo which in retrospect, was unnecessary. Cameras
clicked and then we stopped.
We waited, and we waited but nothing
happened. Kerry, one of our party, decided to investigate and what a
discovery he made. As the points were changed, something went
dreadfully wrong. The engine jumped the track leaving most of its
wheels on the ground.
That was that as far as the train was concerned.
It would not go anywhere for many, many hours and nor would the train
that had wanted to pass. A large, heavy duty crane
was needed and from where it would come was anyone's guess. In the
meantime our million dollar question was :"What are we going to do"?
Eventually it was decided that we should walk to the next station, just
before the Gokteik Bridge. And that was the beginning of an odyssey I
could have done without.
At the station we discovered our
options were just about non-existent:
The last didn't sound too bad and
it was preferable to waiting for something to happen. "Hurry up and
wait" wasn't even considered. All our belongings
were collected and we set off.
To begin we returned to the train and
then headed out, along a narrow track.
 It was all too much
for Margaret. She had some kind of an attack and ended up flat on her
back in the dust. She was hauled to her feet and one of the Myanmar
piggy backed her up the hill, the extremely steep hill. I was not doing
much better. My Ventolin was used more than it should have been, but
c'est la vie. At
this point our destination was the railway line along which we had to
walk.
Finally, and
at long last we completed Stage 1. Stage 2 couldn't possibly be as bad.
Walking along a railway line wasn't that difficult, easier than walking
uphill. Maybe so, but ... ! Over
time the party spread out with my party bringing up the rear. Margaret
was way ahead, supported on both sides and with her feet barely touching
the ground. It wasn't long before we could no longer see the rest of the
party, we were alone except for the local man who kept an eye on us and
was always there when I needed help to cross a viaduct or just a helping
hand. He'd help me and then walk ahead, squat down and watch. When I got
close, he'd stand and take up a position further along the track.  My
breathing became more and more laboured. Rest stops became more
frequent. Putting one foot after the other became very difficult.
Take twenty steps and rest. Just around the next bend and we'll be
there. And so it went, for hours. I was on automatic, my only thought
"First one foot and then the other. Left, right. Twenty sleepers
and have a rest." 
Rounding
a bend, rescue. Water and torches in hand came our knights in their
shining armour. Or perhaps the cavalry.
Whichever, they were most welcomed. Not that I accepted assistance. I
was almost dead on my feet but I was going to make it under my own
steam. Seeing them gave me renewed strength. It couldn't be much
further! Left,
right! Left, right! I did it! I'm not sure how, but I did it! With help
from the wonderful Myanmar man and the rest of my party who gave me
water, my Ventolin when I absolutely needed it and most important of
all, encouragement. How I would have managed without them is beyond me. The
trip into Lashio is a blur. All I really remember is the most welcomed
hot shower and the bed into which I fell. |
