Absolute LOUD

As much as I thought I would remember, I was still surprised with India noise. The honking, screeching, yelling, banging, bubbling, clashing and crashing, the barking, baying, beeping and just general overwhelming ear pollution surprised me - again. Delhi round three was a quicky and not overly exciting. After an ungodly departure hour from Bangkok we arrived with a few winks of sleep after a flight on Antarctica only to have to deal with the North Indian Rail reservation system that told me that there were two tourist quota seats left on the train to Amritsar but you had to pay in foreign currency.

"Well, I was robbed and have no foreign currency"
"Yes yes whichever you like, dollars, euros pounds"
"I don't have any of those"
"Oh well, this is the only way, I can put as (tap tap tap)...number 76/77 on the wait list"
"There must be a way you can issue me those seats"
"Oh no madame, for a foreign seat you must have foreign currency"
"Ok, well, we've gone over this. I don't have foreign currency - only rupees. How else can I get a ticket"
"Oh well well yes. Did you exchange money? Do you have a receipt?"
"Yes. Here"

A few more tappy tap taps later I handed over some rupees and cursed myself for coming back to this country. Why does EVERYTHING have to be SO difficult?

We killed the afternoon with an hour and a half of internet and three power cuts, some fresh chapats and paneer masala, book shopping and me in awe of all the missing cows. I mean literally: the cows are gone! Only a few months ago cows and cow patties littered the lanes and boulevards of Delhi but now there's new metal barricades up, and the streets aren't covered in veggie ends all the people provide for the cows, the dogs and rats that eat the veggie goods and of course all the cows! Amazingly the rotten produce and cow shit smell also went along with the cows. My guess would be that this has to do with the slow but ongoing preparations that Delhi is taking on in order to host the 2010 Commonwealth Games. Who's idea it was to let Delhi home this event is beyond me - Mumbai or Kolkatta or Bangalore would have been a more savory choice but alas - apparently their working on it.

We took the very classy and comfortable (Indian comfortable) Shtabdi Express train up to Amritsar in Punjab state where, when we finally arrived around 11pm, we proceed to sleep until 4pm the next afternoon. Amritsar is one of those Indian citys of just over a million that's typical India in every way and the only reason to make a stop there was to a) see the infamous, second only to the Taj, Sikh Golden Temple and b) head out to Attari to take a peek over at Pakistan and see the totally bazaar Indi-Paki guard stomp off.

We abated by all the rules of the temple by washing our feet and covering our heads (Aaron looked especially cute with his Golden Temple orange bandanna) and hit the heat and the crowds all lined up to pray to the temple, touch stuff and all the rest. The temple complex was amazing and surrounded by over 300 rooms that are offered free to not only Sikh pilgrims but anyone who is in need of a place to stay. We opted out of waiting in the 4hr plus line-up to get inside the actual temple seeing as we're not Sikh and it didn't mean the world to us but instead we chilled out under a tree and watched the action from the shade. Also attached to the temple and the free accommodation is a free kitchen where mass production of chapattis and dal and chai are in order. Anyone can eat at any hour and hoards of volunteers cook and clean and serve which is humbling to say the least. We lined up with the masses and ate on the floor and for such quantities of food it wasn't too bad at all. After eating we invited ourselves to check out the gigantic chapatti machine - only THE coolest thing I've seen in India thus far. Bags of flour and hot ovens miraculously pumped out chapats like nothing else! Amazing!

The Attari border show was a scene. A few thousand roudy Indians jumped and hooted and bollywood danced before the 20 minute stomp-a-thon of the Paki-Indi guards. Honestly I couldn't see anything, I don't think anyone could. It was so loud and the whole time was spent watching people jump out of their seats and stand up to see and then having the crowd control guards bleep their whistles and push them back to a sit. It was hilarious and probably more entertaining then the actual ceremony. Of course their was no "personal space", everyone wanted to take our picture, and the utter lack of self control exhibited by the Indian was so explanatory of their culture it made me laugh continuously.

So that's what happened. We jetted out of Amritsar on the most horrible local bus-bus combo that took us 12 hours in total - 6 of the hours I spent barfing in a bag due to India's sanitary standards and finally we are in McLeod Ganj, I'm better, the weather's fine and life goes on.

Justice in the Kok

So getting robbed wasn't on the "to do in Bangkok" list but it happened anyway...

On the bus trip to Bangkok some terrible men did a terrible thing. As it happens more frequently than one would like to think a bus company (although not the one we had bought a ticket for - rather one we got shuffled onto after a sketchy bus-bus drop odd) had some professional thieves stowed away in the luggage compartment of the bus and as the innocent and fare paying passengers watched "The Rock" and slept sweetly they picked locks, rummaged, and nicked every last penny and card. It is unfortunate yes, but also not the worst thing that could have happened. Aaron and I were raped of about $200USD emergency money and one emergency Mastercard that of course was cancelled with ease but more upsetting was the fact that the thieves also took our souvenir money from Burma, Nepal, New Zealand, Singapore and the rupees we had ready for India - a very small sum of money and totally useless in Thailand. Bastards! On this bus ride we happened to make friends with a New Zealand/Canadian couple Shaun and Nadien who ended up at the same Bangkok guesthouse as us and of course, also got robbed. On a more severe scale than ours, their situation involved not only stolen cash (and perfume - weird) but a Visa TravelEx card that works like a loaded credit card but cannot be charged and needs a pin code to withdraw money. Little did they know but as the bus stopped for dinner in a small side of the road town Nadien's card code had been busted (somehow) and cleared out to the last penny. 80,000 Bhat (over 3,000 Cdn dollars) - enough to last her the rest of their 7 month trip and all the way to Vancouver where they will be moving in the fall. Not good, especially because of the fact that not only did they steal the card, crack the code (which she herself doesn't even know) and rock her for all she's worth... they put the card back! Unlike Nadien's card, Shaun's was stolen but they couldn't get into it, although they did attempt five times before the card shut down. Of course this became a major problem for them and when we saw them in the morning they were distraught with worry that the money would not be compensated with insurance from TravelEx. This is when the mission began.

After collecting our thoughts at lunch we made a plan and headed to file a report at the police station on Koh San - the middle of the Bangkok tourist ghetto. The kindly and cute police reception directed us to the "tourist police" which were a hundred bhat cab ride away - really far! We decided to see if we could get some more info on the bus... We went to the original bus company office where they told us were were surely not on one of their buses and that most of the other buses would be picking up people on the Koh San corner around 6pm that evening and we should see if we could identify the bus and get it's number and licence for our police report. "Ok. Good idea". We wandered down and waited... I though we were taking a stab in the dark but I was wrong. The bus showed up and we were certain it was the same one for the smashed up front and taped up headlights were all "same same". The driver and workers were NOT happy to see us. They knew what was going down: Justice in Bangkok. With cameras in hand we had a lengthy photo shoot of the bus and a few bad ones of the driver hiding behind the windshield ready to swing a metal bar at us.

"Ok ok, we need to get the cops". As Shaun and Aaron stayed to hold the bus as it was being loaded Nadien and I ran to grab a cop. Only one of us could fit on the back of the motorbike so she went and I ran back. As I came around the corner I ran into Shaun with a swollen and tearing eye and Aaron looking stunned.

"What happened?!?"
"They attacked me"

The workers/thieves of the bus had a flip out on Shaun when he snapped a few photos of their faces one tried to punch him and as he was holding him off the other got a good right swing in. After that they took off. Nadien tried finding the bus with the bike cop but returned after searching failed. We ended up back at the Koh San police station again, printed photos, and then were pushed in a taxi to go to the "tourist police". Three hours later, after explain the story about 45 times we left with little satisfaction and a copy of the report as a souvenir but of course, as most Asian cops go... there was little they could (would) do. We like to think the photos and report will help confirm the stealing of Nadien's money but a lot of effort yields only a little way here.

It leaves a bad taste of Thailand in my mouth but we'll be aight. It may sound crazy but we're going back to India. Why? Because I love India (and sorta hate it too). Next stop Delhi where it's smelly and curry will be in my belly!

Vacation from Vacation

Koh Phan-Ngan Island, neighboring to Koh Tao was our home for the last eight days and nights and I apologize to all the regular blog readers about the lack of posting, but unlike the chaos of India there wasn't a lot to write home about. Anyway, we arrived on the Island and taxied to our originally planned beach of residence but found out very quickly that from the town where the truck dropped us and the beach of destination the dirt "foot path" was only negotiable with one of us on the motorbike (just), let alone with large backpacks. I ended up walking in the hot sun with my bag for a while up the hills and through the dirt and we decided to ditch the big bags at the bike shop and find a better beach. A couple of hours of exploring later we found Aoh Mae Haad where we got a bungalow and bunkered down for what was to be a very very stressful and trying eight days. Not.

A week went by in a blink. We made time for some off shore snorkeling at the nearby reef where it was said to be the best snorkeling on the island - but after diving didn't really compare. Cool nonetheless. And we also spent some time scooting to town for cold beers and chocolate milk shooters from the 7-11 and one day ventured to the other side of the island to check out the scene of Haat Rin where all the cool kids hang out. Unfortunately that mission ended only with a traffic ticket, a rain storm, getting stuck on multiple steep hills our scooty couldn't make it up, a crappy lunch and me eating a jar of olives from the grocery store. We called it quits as it just wasn't meant to be and besides, our bungalow was calling us back to enjoy bloody Mary's on the balcony. Apart from soaking up some sun and floating around on the gentle waves with Nemu we gathered all our energy at ventured to the "Black Moon" party one evening, around 1:30am. Koh Phan-Ngan is famous for its Full Moon party which of course happens on the full moon but they also make any sort of moon excuse to play trance or drum and base beats, fill party goers with buckets of vodka and redbull, and then have another "after party" the following night. It was entertaining but not exactly my scene but the people watching was right up there with Koh San Road. We stayed until five and got slightly lost getting home on the bike which all of sudden turned to another dirt road adventure but ended back in bed before sunrise. Phew.

So really there isn't much else. We met some nice peeps also hanging out on the same beach as us (Brits abroad, cocky Canadian, and humble German) that we frequented with but other than all the relaxing and book reading not a lot was accomplished - just as we planned. But do not fear! Our lazy days on the beach are over, we back to the Kok and if that's not thriller writing enough for you we're a few sleeps away from Delhi!

Finding Nemo

Well, not Nemo exactly...but his equivalent Thai counterpart - Nemu

We left Myanmar and headed into the sticky heat of Bangkok where we spent two days enjoying street food, English movies, normal Internet, and consistent electricity. We also did some necessity shopping and it is with regret that I must tell you, the Hongger sunglasses have been replaced. They did me proud for over six months but the abuse of travelling has taken it's toll and honestly, I couldn't see through the lenses anymore. It's sad I know but the Dior's are now on the scene and giving me a new look.

We skipped out of the Kok and headed straight to the island of Koh Tao on the Eastern coast to jump right into the diving scene. Koh Tao is world famous for its fantastic dive sites so we signed up for the four day Open Water PADI course to certify ourselves to do some diving. The first two days were spent in the classroom and in the pool learning about all the gear and how to stay safe under extreme depths then the next days were spent on the boat and in the water with four open water dives. Our original group was slightly dysfunctional. It included
three "Brits abroad" (they're everywhere), a Dutch girl (who we nicknamed Titties...because, well...), a chain smoker from Montreal, and an Israeli girl... who I did not like so much. Our instructor was a character also from Israel but not particularly Israeli as he has been living and teaching on Koh Tao for the past four years which led me to check off one more item on Lifa's "to do" list. His name was Liran, he was hilarious and made the whole experience of diving stress free and relaxing. Anyway, after the first long classroom session the Brits abroad decided to booze it with their other buddy's and dropped our group to pick up with the next the following day. Down to five. We hit the pool and the Gods (if they exist) smiled upon me when Miss Israel couldn't handle the three meters of water pressure and had to stop diving. Down to four. Titties and Terry and me and Aaron. Our little group was great and because it was so small we got particular attention and spotted some not often seen marine life. We needed to pass a written test and then complete some skills in the ocean to complete the course and all that was no problem so in no time we were PADI certified and of course, wanted more.

After a day off to relax and catch up on some zzz's we started the Advanced Open Water course which involved a lot less classroom stuff and underwater skills and a lot more diving. We completed five more dives including a night dive, a navigation dive, and a deep dive to 30m. All good and the underwater world was just great. Some neat spots included a sea snake, a giant potato grouper, a baby puffer fish (and some big ones), a barracuda on the night dive, giant hermit crabs, and my favorite - Nemu and his family. It was all very exciting, exhilarating, and totally exhausting. While doing all the dive stuff we learned about the effects of nitrogen narcosis and decompression sickness both serious conditions that can happen when diving. Using tables and wheels we learned to calculate and plan our dives so that we are now certified to dive independently anywhere around the world.

It's hard to describe what it's like to be 30m underwater swimming amoung schools of fish and fending off the feisty triggers. I can see how it's addicting but like most super fun stuff - expensive! So alas, after nine dives we'll probably stick with the snorkeling for the rest of the time, although we've been told now that we're divers we'll end up unsatisfied. Tomorrow we're leaving for a neighboring island to just spend some time chilling out and having a few beers. Peace!

The Last Leg

The foot paddler fishers and ancient ruins of stupas are what brings most people to Inle Lake but it has a lot more than just fish and payas if you go looking. Aaron and I only had one full day there so we made it big with a grandeur 8:45(ish) start on a dugout canoe longboat that we shared with a wacky Japanese guy who wore sandles with socks even though it was 30C and we were in a boat. The boat drivers know the tourist drill and took us around without hesitation to all the sites we just shouldn't miss and of course because of this fact Inle lake in general is a tourist hot spot and if you're seeing Myanmar with a tour group you'd be one of the many in the classy canoes. We didn't mind our shoddy boat and our first of the morning was at the very very touristic floating market. Originally the floating market was the once-every-five-days place where locals would meet up in their boats to sell and trade goods and produce but now it is mainly just tourist trinkets and the occasional "black market" gas station boat and maybe a few fruit and veggie vendors but pretty neat to see anyway. We didn't linger long and headed straight to the end of the lake up some makeshift dams and through the jungle canals until we reached Indein where more stupas live. The catch however was that these stupas were older than most in Myanmar and there was, well a whole lot. The pathway leading up the hill to the site was saturated beyond belief with stands to buy paintings, t-shirts, bowls, pants, singing frogs, and every other item possible to make in Myanmar. Aaron and I guess each stand must only get about one sale every two weeks - if that. The ruins were beautiful and we wandered by foot until I came close the getting my ass kicked by a cow who tried to headbutt me (don't worry, it was a small cow and I defended myself by hitting it in the head). We boat hopped again, braked for lunch and headed out on the lake again to see some more Stupas where I was reminded why I hate religion by not being allowed onto many of the final platforms to actually look at the Buddha or the stupid rocks they think look like Buddha. Aaron was disappointed when we confirmed the reason for female discrimination is because Buddha thinks that "men are higher status than women" - obviously. Even Buddha has some major flaws.

Some of the afternoon was spent visiting a weaving studio where we saw how they use lotus stems to create lotus thread which is then weaved into scarves that will run you at about 170USD - but wow, that thread work is tedious! We also stopped at a cigar making place where child labour was as its finest and a nine year old girl spent her time stuffing cerroots for the locals to spend their earnings on. It was interesting and sad to see that a lot of kids spend their only childhoods making tobacco products. A quick stop at the long-neck peoples shop, the jumping cat monastery, and through the floating gardens and the day was soon over. We enjoyed some dinners and beers and tried not to think about the looming bus ride that was waiting for us the next day...

The Bus...
I'm not really sure where to start. To get to the bus pick up we needed to get to the next town over (about 11km) for 12pm. This of course means we promptly left at 9:45 to find the spot where the shared pick-ups leave from. Found the truck no problem and began to wait...generally the trucks only go when they are full - meaning at least 25 people. Waiting, waiting, waiting... four other tourists were also waiting and as the truck filled up and we didn't start moving we realized we were being held hostage. Panning together we jumped out of the truck and decided to share a cab into town... but oh oh oh... the truck could go now. They collected our money and we waiting more until I started yelling "let's go! let's go! let's go!". Twelve more people packed on the roof, hanging off the sides and end of the truck and we bobbled down the road for half and hour. More waiting happened at the bus stop tea shop and after an hour and a half a bus finally stopped.

The guy jumped off and checked everyones tickets (at this point there were about ten people waiting at the stop). "Yes bus, no bus, no bus" ... he said. "Another bus is coming". We were one of the no's even though I asked three times so we waiting more. The next bus showed up and we gave the guy our ticket. He was confused, panicked, and as we waited in the beating sun we wondered what the fuss was. Eventually we got shoved on the bus but not in the right seats. Oh well. An hour or so later at a break stop we were shuffled from the second bus to the first which of course we were supposed to be on in the first place even though buddy said no no. We moved and I won't lie: the bus was a piece of shit.

Bucking and jerking along for hours along the "no roads" we broke down not once, not twice, but three times and on the final event we were told at 3 in the morning that were would be waiting for another bus... it could take hours. Great. I tried to get a very cramped nap while Aaron drank tea at a nearby shop but we didn't last long until we step up a little bed with sheets and and sleeping bag on the side of the road. The sun started to rise and the replacement bus finally arrived but not just any replacement bus - it was a regular old local bus. Are you kidding? No, no, not kidding. So just think: no food, no sleep, very very uncomfortable and then thrown on a local bus that stopped every other minuted to left people on and off. It was more than terrible. What was supposed to be a bad 18hour bus ride turned into a 27hour horror show that makes me want to cry just thinking about it. The moral to the story is: never take a bus in Myanmar.

We arrived back in Yangon, slept, and dreamt about the wonderful air con buses of Thailand we were soon to be riding...

We be Trekkin'

Finally some good luck came our way. After a day catching up on some sleep and exploring the little town of Kalaw we started our two day one night trek in a village that just happened to be celebrating the novice monk initiation which happens, oh, about every 22 years or so - when the harvest is good enough to sustain feeding about 1000 people from outlying villages that come help out. It's quite a production. Mass eateries, kitchens, and tea making facilities are all set up, sparkly pink costumes for the monks are rented, horses and chair carriers are rented to parade the little monks around and it's all just a big party with smashing gongs and big drums and the like. We checked out the scene for a couple of hours and were invited into each and every home for food and tea - food food food. Eat eat eat all the time! We did help ourselves to liters of tea and sweet sticky rice, Aaron indulged in the pork curry while I sat wishing I had hollow legs to be able to fit all the food in.

From the monk festivities we moved on past the village monastery out into the rural farmlands of Myanmar. The breeze and semi cloud cover made the heat a bit more bearable as we walked through sparse villages and ginger fields. Our guide Tun-Ti spoke fluent English which made for some great conversation and explanations when we had questions about everything. He also brought along a cook who provided us with the best Myanmar food we had the entire trip - so good! Up some hills, down some hills we broke for lunch in a village where a family lent us their home to use the cooking facilities and Aaron became the big hit by playing a short video taken on his camera of that mornings festivities in a few villages over. A full belly of fried noodles later we trekked for another 3 hours to a remote village where is just happened to be the day they were completing the construction of a new house for a family - again a once in 40 years kind of deal! We helped carry a few of the last remaining items into the new house and joined everyone (an by everyone, I mean all the men - I made myself an exception) for more celebratory sticky rice and tea.

The people of the village rarely see many visitors so when an old old man we met stated :"People from Canada look different from people from Myanmar" it gave us a good laugh. We were asked what our houses were made of in Canada and if we had tin roofs or bamboo walls and if we ate betel or smoked cerroot cigars. They didn't know that Canada was a country or where to find it on a map or probably how to read a map at all but they were very inviting and honored to have us celebrate the completion of the new house. We spent the night with a local family where we enjoyed a lot more tea and shelling peanuts by the fire. That evening we slept under the watchful eye of the family Buddha and awoke in the morning to smoke and sizzling rice. Goodbyes were said and we were on the move again for another sweaty day of trekking.

While we walked Tun-Ti told us all about the local ways of farming, collecting wood, making bamboo mats and baskets, and just about everything to do with life in rural Myanmar. We learned that crab apple trees continue to grow even after you cut all their branches off, beetle larvae are good for eating, and some rocks you can eat for calcium - but not too much or else you'll have problems peeing. Around one o'clock we rested for lunch at one of the many canals leading into Inle lake. Our trek ended there and we were picked up by a boat which ferried us an hour and a half to the other side of the lake into the town of Nyaungshwe where we would base ourselves for the next two nights.

The experience in the hills, away from the dust and pollution of the cities was definitely a highlight of our time in Myanmar. The oodles of children that roam freely put it over the top because they are all just so cute. I don't know what it is...but so far they're winning the cutest kids award. With colourful matching turbans, the tribal peoples were so warm and welcoming that is was really touching to see such a preserved and tight community where neighbors actually help each other out. Rustic doesn't even begin to describe the living conditions of these places but somehow they are much warmer than any big city... ok, wah wah wah, gone off on the touchy feely stuff I know - but some people like that sort of thing.

Anyway, we be trekkin' and it be sweet.

Ssshhhtupas!

Opting out of another bus we took the 5:30am boat to Mandalay and despite it being 12 hours it was surprisingly enjoyable. The boat was big, comfortable, empty and served beer - need I say more? We hung out on the outside deck most of the day soaking in the sun and stupa spotting on the shore until arriving in one of the dustiest cities I've ever been to. Unfortunately Mandalay is another city in which the government picks you off for another ten USD for seeing some of the main sites. Aaron and I avoided this junta donation by hiring a sly trishaw driver Jojo who knew which sites they didn't check for the tickets, which sites didn't require a ticket, and which sites a tickets check could be avoided by a back or side entrance. The locals seem to take a liking to you when they see how you try to avoid anything government as they do as well and Jojo was a heap of information on the extremely taboo subject of government happenings. As he said, it was a relief to get some feelings off his chest and vent a little as talking about it to other locals is forbidden and subject to fines or jail time. As an example, the day before Jojo was stopped by the police at the local market who then held his trishaw licence hostage until he ran around and paid a lawyer to get a statement and ran back to the police and paid them off 8,000k - triple of his earnings of a 12 hour day of work. Corrupt? Noooo, not at all. It's terrible for the people who work hard pay mounds of taxes and see nothing of their money except for the 60 airports around their country - 20 of which flights actually go to on occasion. As one guy said: "Our airport? It's for show. We don't get flights here".

With Jojo we toured around Mandalay seeing more Payas/Pagodas/Stupas, a monastery, a gold leaf factory, and in the evening climbing up to Mandalay hill where we were stopped at the final step for a ticket check - ouch! No worries though, we were still allowed to watch the sun set 10 inches below the ticket holders...that evening we went to the home of the famous Moustache Brothers, a comedic group that historically has pushed political jokes to the limit - so far that two of the three brothers have been jailed (one for 7 years!) for their views on the junta. Well, they've done their jail time and now pushed us for five bucks each to watch their show which has turned from a raging political rant (in Barmar) to a never ending list of English cliches and celebrity name dropping mixed in with some sexual innuendo. Mixed into the slurred Elmur Fud English was some traditional dancing by the Brothers' entourage of wives and sisters one of whom was the 1978 Lonely Planet cover girl for Burma - no doubt they were very proud and only mentioned this fact, I don't know, about 75 times? Needless to say we would have been more impressed if they didn't ding us for so much money - half would have been of value as there were a lot of people there watching - they're bound to be making what most locals do in a month every night! That night we avoided another meal of oily curry and found a Nepali joint that brought back the memories of dal bhat, parathas, and masala tea...mmmm! The next day we took a taxi 11km out of town to see the longest teak wood bridge in the world. It's still mainly teak but a few restorations have been made and some parts are now concrete. But it was long and it was teak and it was pretty neat.

Mandalay is home to about 60% of the Burmese monk population so the red robes are everywhere. Many of them come to the old capital to study which leads to many of them wanting to practice their English skills with tourists. Some are really cute, as when I lost Aaron in the "no women" section of the Mahamuni Paya I was scooped up by a monk who toured me around for a good half hour all the time talking. I understood about 1% of what he said all the time nodding and telling him how much I loved Buddha.

To our surprise, while we were trying to find a travel agent (that now doesn't exist), we stumbled upon a non-government shopping mall which had a grocery store on the lower floor. And now I know that Malaysia and Australia both provide Myanmar with it's chocolate needs - although not very affordable. We splurged of course and I got a little chocolate fix from the cheaper Malay version of "fruit and nut" which should hold me over until Thailand where chocolate roams freely! We also indulged in a few more giant avocados "toe-pa-di" and a pineapple "na-na-di" from the local vendors on the street who are practically giving the fruit away.

Mandalay was great but we could have used 3 or 4 extra days to explore the outlying towns by boat, but of course with only 28 days you have to pick and choose and we moved on. We made the mistake of letting our guard down and not throughly researching the bus options to Kalaw and ended up getting ripped off on our bus ticket that we bought from our hotel. It included transport to the bus station which took an hour and half hours to cover maybe 4km, the most cramped bus with no working parts and being dropped on the side of the road in the cold at 2:30am without a place to stay. We found a nice guesthouse but of course had to wake everyone up so we're slightly annoyed as we were told we would be arriving at about 6am. We got over it...although it took Aaron a little longer (and I think he's actually still a bit bitter). From Kalaw we arranged to trek for 2 days into Inle lake as the LP suggests - "it beats the bus" but really, anything in Burma beats the bus. So a night and a half in Kalaw later we were set and ready for some walking...