The breadth of the Irrawaddy stretched before us like the continuation of an interminable waterway. In the offing the sea and the sky were welded together without a joint, and in the luminous space a haze rested on the low shores that ran out to fade into vanishing flatness.
Being bound down the river the only thing to do was to wait for the fog to lift. In time, the crew carefully probed the depth with sounding poles to find a channel between the shifting sand banks and we set off down the river towards Pagan.
The morning mist was grey and we couldn't see the water at all. As we sat on the boat and waited we were told that by the crew that we couldn't get going until the fog had cleared. After about an hour of waiting we set sail. The boat went at a leisurely pace. Soon after we set off we saw a giant bat in the water- which was very odd! It was a pleasant trip along the river, watching the world go by. Children were playing and waving at us and women were washing.