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If you do not see this message, use this link. 'The Chindwin is the loveliest of rivers...' so wrote my late friend Alister McCrae of his 1930s trip up the great tributary as a young assistant of the Irrawaddy Flotilla*. And so it remains. I have been up a few rivers in my time and the Chindwin without a doubt remains the loveliest of them all. The Laos Mekong, with its gorges and rocks the size of apartment blocks is on a grander, almost intimidating, scale. The Irrawaddy is a magnificent beast as it expands and contracts through a series of vast shimmering water filled plain and tight defiles. Nothing could beat the Brahmaputra for bird and wildlife and nothing could beat the great Mekong Delta for human life. I returned this year to the Chindwin to find it little changed in a world of great change. Timeless, soulful, the river meanders through range upon range of forested hills, through rocky narrows and great open spaces. You are up against towering bluffs to one side and shimmering seas of elephant grass on the other. Our course is punctuated by pristine villages that have not visibly changed in a millennia. On the Chindwin, you will find the real Burma: a quietly prosperous riverine economy, self-sufficient and at one with its self.
*Alister McCrae, Tales of Burma, Paisley 1982.
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