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...