Despite an airport, the Irrawaddy remains the great conduit.
Now, as when the British came this way in 1855, nobody travelling on the river can miss Pagan.
More than a highway, the river is also the local laundry room.
It's the source of protein.
Along its banks, farmers grow crops with residual moisture and, as needed, with tiny gasoline pumps that lift river water.
Clay pots awaiting shipment.
Watercraft come in many varieties, from humble rowboats...
...to flashy fantails...
...launches...
...and ships, in this case reminiscent of the colonial Irrawaddy flotilla, a major operation until the entire fleet was scuttled at the Japanese approach.
Traffic stops at dusk...
...but starts early, like this mixed train at Nyaung-U.
