Kalaw to Inle Lake – day 3

The cock and flowers

The cock and flowers

We were woken at 5am by the younger monks chanting. Fortunately I had my earplugs in so managed to drift off again until 7am when we all got up for breakfast. The aim was to set off relatively early and get to the market town on the south of Inle Lake for lunch and to catch our boat to Nyaungshwe.

We, of course, met more children on the way who delighted in seeing their pictures on the backs of our digital cameras. It was particularly hot, but we made it in good time to browse the (touristy) market and relax with lunch and blisters.

Michael dug out his laptop to show us the photos of their trip through Pakistan. Soon, we had a crowd of around 10 locals nosing in! Unlike many other countries, though, there was no threat of it being stolen.

Bushfire

Bushfire

At around 1pm we boarded our narrow boat an hour-long trip up the lake, passing buffalo being bathed and fishermen doing what fishermen do best (the good ones, anyway).

Finally at Nyaungshwe we split up to our respective guest houses and said goodbye to Harry – truly an excellent guide and highly recommended. I’d picked Gypsy in on the waterfront to have my bags transported to as I’d been told they had $3 dorms. This turned out to be wrong – they only had rooms. I got a $6 room for $5 after haggling. There were shared facilities and a “hot” shower I tested. It wasn’t that hot, but was better than freezing cold.

Looks thick enough to walk on

Looks thick enough to walk on

I checked in, sorted my stuff, grabbed my towel and shower gel… and watched a staff member beat me into the shower by seconds. Instead, I washed the dust from my trousers and hung them out to dry as I waited for him to finish. After quarter of an hour I finally got in… and the water was freezing. He’s used all the hot!

I met up with Mark and the Polish couple for dinner at Mister Cook where I had an excellent – and reasonably priced – ham pizza. That, a beer and a cola came to 7000K. Steep for dinner in Myanmar but great food.

We arranged to meet at 7:30 the next morning at their guest house for a boat trip of the lake. It had already been organised – by the Polish couple I’d met on the bus to Kalaw the other day!

Camouflage boots and trousers

Camouflage boots and trousers

Rather than finish my book, I took advantage of the working electricity in my room to defy “The Generals” and break the law. I fired up my laptop and watched Rambo 4. The viewing of which is punishable by 5 years in jail here, due to the movie’s anti-Myanmar government stance. Of course, pretty much everyone here with a DVD player has now seen it. Well, you have to if someone tells you you’re not allowed.

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Kalaw to Inle Lake – day 2

Collecting firewood

Collecting firewood

More awesome scenery and dust. We came across a couple more villages populated by different “tribes” though the major differences between them lay predominantly in their clothes. Their languages could perhaps have differed, but as I don’t know them I couldn’t tell!

In one, a bunch of children were poking and scratching at my Newcastle tattoo to see if it would come off. As we left, one boy ran up and gently tugged at my beard. I guess he thought that was false, too!

That tree... that sky...

That tree... that sky...

In a later village an old lady was working on a loom as the village kids played around her. She offered me a gorgeous kitten as a gift but sadly I had to decline. Madame Polska was intrigued by her earrings which looked like large balls of pink fluff – but not danglies, more like “button” earrings. The old lady offered them to her and removed them… to reveal holes in her ears about 1.5cm in diamater through which the material had been bundled! Hence the ear decor was of no use to Madame Polska.

Smile!

Smile!

Lunch was in another village in a dark room in which was stored a huge vat filled with peanuts. I think I ate more of these than I did of the lunch. They were lovely! A young boy hung around as we ate and kept looking at the food until we told him we was welcome to join in at which point he devoured what was left of our watermelon.

On the way to our resting spot for the night, we passed two old ladies carrying an impressive amount of stuff on their heads. They saw me putting suncream on and asked if they could try some. The Burmese version of this – thanaka – stays visible and apparently also helps prevent spots as well as being decorative. They were rather taken with the invisible variety!

Vanishing thanaka

Vanishing thanaka

Dinner and rest was at a monastery. When we arrived, Harry pointed out a nearby shop with tables outside from where we could get a cold(ish) beer and some snacks. Mark and i were there barefoot in seconds as putting our boots back on would have taken too long.

We each sank a Mandalay Red Label (7% and 1500K) and grabbed water and munchies. Anna, Michael and Harry joined us shortly as we waited for dinner to be prepared.

As usual, the food was fantastic. I sucked the chilli off parts of my chicken so I could feed some of it to a little kitten who joined us. We talked for some time until the group split up and just Harry and I were left. We retired at about 9pm as the monks themselves went to bed and the electricity was turned off.

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Kalaw to Inle Lake – day 1

At the viewpoint

At the viewpoint

I woke early despite the 5am arrival time and enjoyed a fantastic hot shower. Worth the $5 alone! Over breakfast I was co-erced onto the three-day trek as I’d have to wait a couple of days for another two-day one to set off. The cost was $10 a day for the guide (and food and accommodation), $4 for my bags to be shipped to Inle Lake and $4 for the boat trip from the bottom of the lake to Nyaungshwe where the hotels are.

It was a nice, small group: Harry, the guide; Anna and Michael from Poland (more Poles!); Mark from Texas; and another Polish lady who’s name nobody got. I shall call her Madame Polska.

The three day route actually starts off heading west away from Inle Lake to take in one village and some of the local culture. We’d actually be spending the night more or less due south of Kalaw after going round in a “U” shape.

Firt hilltop view past Kalaw

Firt hilltop view past Kalaw

It’s dry season and the roads were bumpy and dusty. In some places the dust was so deep that stepping in it made it “splash” in much the way water does from a shallow puddle. It’s also a lovely, rusty red like that of the Australian Outback.

Another thing that the country here shares with the Outback if the most amazing blue skies. I guess “azure” is one word, but I just don’t think any language can do justice to the colour.

Cute kids!

Cute kids!

Not far from where we began, we walked past some “roadworks”. About twenty locals were creating a proper paved road out of their own pockets. The government couldn’t be bothered helping them (forking out for flamboyant weddings for their offspring is deemed far more important) so they’d purchased and manufactured all the required equipment and materials themselves. From the tarmac bubbling in oil drums that had been cut open to stone graders made from metal with varying sized holes punched in it. May of the workers were female, probably around 80%.

We also passed a surprising amount of vegetation which seemed healthy despite the heat. Huge banyan trees, various cacti and occasional blooms randomly poking from the arid soil.

That fantastic blue

That fantastic blue

At around midday we stopped for lunch at a viewpoint used by a few trekking groups. Our food was served up – fresh fruit, a salad, a mild curry and as much green tea as we could drink. We spent an hour eating and chilling before pressing on.

Almost every local we passed had a smile and a wave, the children in particular. Madame Polska had brought pens which Harry dished out to the children along with medicines, toothpaste and the like which he himself had brought.

Towards the end of the day we got a chance to take some photos of one of the local trains as it pulled into a station we happened to be at. The guards (in fact anyone in uniform in this country) don’t like having their photos taken. So we made sure and took plenty as serupticiously as we could.

Myanmar flag

Myanmar flag

We arrived at our home for the evening at around 5pm as the sun started to dip. A couple of small houses surrounded by farmland. Our hosts had laid out sleeping mats and three thick blankets for each of us. Given that it was still very hot, this seemed overly generous, but we were to need them!

Our travelling chef – who we found out hiked ahead of us – prepared a buffet dinner of fish curry (argh), mountain rice, chilli paste (hot!), fried vegetables and many other things. As at lunchtime there was more food than we could eat – though Anna and Mark tried their best!

Look at me in my uniform

Look at me in my uniform

We all filtered bed-wards over the coming hours as darkness fell and the electricity was switched off. Mark and I lay one of our blankets each underneath us, folded up, as protection for our bony hips. It was better than nothing, but sacrificed some of the covering we needed once the temperature plumetted in the early hours.

It was really cold!

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Bus to Kalaw

My bus was at midday so I was told to catch a taxi at 10:30. I toyed with getting the public bus, but this would take up to two hours plus the walk into town to catch it.

I said my goodbyes to Peter and a group of lads who’d given me some trekking hints and jumped into the taxi.

100m later we did a u-turn as I’d forgotten my hat. As luck would have it, a French couple were just leaving and looking to share a taxi, so my 6000K fare got split 3 ways.

It’s 45 minutes or so out to the bus “station” which is an enormous open-air affair. It’s more an industrial estate with streets all over. I was dropped at the Hein office for the start of my 18-hour journey.

The seats in front of me were taken by a Polish couplewho were heading all the way to Inle Lake – and had also been told their journey would be 18 hours. So I guess mine would be 16. Or theirs 20. Or something. Welcome to Burmese transport.

The journey was nothing really to write about. Movies and music at ear-splitting volume reminded me of India, and frigid air-con brought back memories of a boat trip in Malaysian Borneo. My earplugs reduced the noise to the level I’d normally listen to my MP3 player at, and I long-sleeved top kept off the frost. I’d kept my sandals on, so my tootsies were cold once night fell.

The air-con barely seemed to function during the day, but at night the temperatures became positively arctic. Well before myself and the Poles started to wrap up, locals were donning jumpers and jackets with the hoods up – and looking utterly miserable. I just don’t understand why someone didn’t say something.

We were stopped partway up the main highway and us foreigners had our passports checked and details taken. On boarding the bus back in Yangon, my passport number was logged against my seat. They really do try to keep track of your movements here.

For dinner we stopped at one of those huge cafés that anyone who’s bussed through South East Asia will know well. I decided to cross the road and go to a tiny little place with dinky chairs and tables instead. None of the girls who worked there spoke a word of English and I’d left my guidebook on the bus so I looked and pointed – rice, chicken and a random soft drink.

As I ate, I glanced up and all five of them were staring at me. They broke into a mass fit of giggles and dispersed.

At 4am I was woken by the Poles who’d decided to hop of at Kalaw which we had reached. We walked the empty streets for a while until we found the Golden Kalaw guest house which the Poles took the last room in. I wasn’t really up for paying for a whole night when I was only sleeping for a couple of hours, but after getting bored walking round until 5am I rang the bell of the Golden Lilly next door and checked in.

It was cold, but the bed was snuggly and only $5. It was still a shock to see my breath in the air after the heat of Yangon.

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