Sunday 28 February 2010

What to do on a Sunday night in Phuket?





This was the question that we and our new friend, Ron, who is from the Netherlands, asked ourselves as we sat in the front of our hostel with some drinks. After a couple of cans each, we decided to head out around the corner into town. We ended up in an "Irish bar", though the only thing Irish about it was the harp emblems on the door. The rest was quite typically Thai, what with the bright red walls and a Thai family enjoying their supper around a large table.
As we sat down for drinks, one of the Thai ladies running the bar asked if we wanted to play a game and, to be honest, it was a great idea! She brought over a Jenga set! Not only were we thoroughly entertained but so were the bar staff and the on-watchers who were guzzling their noodle soup. The more wooden pieces we cunningly took out of the tower, the more concentration was required in order to keep the stack from tipping. It was possibly the best game of jenga that I have ever played. Such stiff competition! The bottom third of the stack was so wobbly as it was only being held together by "threads". Alas the game had to come to an end. As Ron used a straw to poke out a centre piece from the wooden mountain, he pushed all of the top blocks a little too far and, low and behold, it collapsed! Lots of heads turned to observe the loser in action! :-D

On the way back to the hostel, we saw a large vehicle that was loaded way beyond capacity with pineapples!

Saeng Tham Shrine

Phuket Town is a major centre for the Hokkein Chinese diaspora: sometimes it feels more Chinese than Thai, and we’re not complaining. The position of this island between China, Malaya and India meant that in the past it became a melting pot for international cultures.

Chinese New Year tends to stretch on a bit, and last night we stumbled into the closing ceremony of all the celebrations at the interesting Saeng Tham Shrine. Among the deities served, there’s Phra Ong Sun Tai Sai, and hordes of people queued up to make their offerings and give thanks for an ensuing peaceful year.

We, on the other hand, hot-footed it in search of dinner, where Simon managed to track down the HOTTEST chicken sautéed with red curry paste and basil leaves. Yum; Ouch!

Saturday 27 February 2010

Tamarind Ice Cream!

There’s far more to Phuket than beach. Most westerners would come here without ever setting foot in Phuket Old Town, but we’re based right here, at the Old Town Hostel. This entire street of evocative Sino-Portuguese shop-houses is being restored to create a living quarter of town reminiscent of the glory days of trading ships on the spice route and the coming and goings of salty old sea dogs. Our little place used to be an opium den, but it’s serving us well as our den (without the iniquity) for this week.

Further down the street is a fantastically fully restored shop-house called the China Inn, and this is where our Californian/Hawaiian friend Terri took us for ice creams following another spring roll fest.

It’s full of amazing Chinese antiques, and once ‘out back’ there is an oasis of calm to be found in the tropical paradise of a garden.

Do you remember that we found a tamarind tree as we descended from the mountains to Indein in Burma, and we gorged on fresh tamarinds that could be pulled or shaken from the branches? Well that taste was magical, and both sweet and sour. So today Simon ordered a tamarind ice cream; would it match up to the fresh, real McCoy? Yes! It even surpassed the fresh version by clothing the sharp taste with the creaminess of the vanilla base. Heaven on a spoon.

Jon decided that you can’t have enough coconut when in these tropical climates, so he enjoyed a fantastic formulation halfway between an ice cream and a sorbet, complete with real coconut shavings throughout. Delicious!
Terri gave us two Saul Bellow books, so we’ll be up until the wee hours with some full-on reading! We walked back to the Hotel and departed from our colonial buddy, until 7:30pm when the three of us intend to go back into town for some drinks, and more food of course!

Friday 26 February 2010

Kamala Beach

Did you know that Kamala “is one of the most beautiful, and still largely untouched, beaches on Phuket”? So we are told in the Phuket Explorer magazine. Well, it’s a nice beach…

The outward ride to the beach was a nice experience in its own right. We hopped onto the back of a local bus, which looked just like a gigantic tuk-tuk and headed out of town. Typically Thai, the bus driver tended to drive about the town on the prowl for more customers before actually putting his foot down and getting us to where we wanted to be in the correct amount of time. Once we got going, the cooling breeze was a relief from the tropical midday heat and we managed to see a small dose of Phuket’s marvellous countryside. Jagged hills lined with dense rainforest was such a contrast to the light, golden sands of Kamala beach, as we found out for ourselves as the bus stopped to let us off.
The cool sea breeze was deceptive: the refreshing airs disguised the fact that the sun here is fierce! It is certainly a good job that we brought along sun lotion, otherwise there would have been nothing left of us but cinders. Having used the sun lotion, we are appearing as two large rare steaks! Not funny!
Our lunch was really fantastic. Simon ordered Chicken Satay, and what arrived was almost as good as the Chicken Satay we always rustle up in Mevagissey. This time the chicken lollipop skewers were bright yellow-orange from the turmeric colouring. Did you know that turmeric is a root of the ginger and galangal family, looking almost identical to ginger? Well neither did we until we saw it in Burma. The peanut sauce that came with today’s dish was smooth, with plenty of yoghurt, just like a lassi. Very tasty in the hot sun! Later in the afternoon, Jon hailed an icecream vendor so that we could indulge ourselves with refreshing ‘feast’ lollies, one vanilla and one chocolate.
After lunch, we chilled out a little more and swam in the sea. Is it the warmest sea I have ever been in? Or is the Seychelles still winning on that one? Perhaps we’ll have to go back to the Seychelles one day, just to check. And how about that blue and turquoise water? Does Mauritius win, or the Maldives? We also looked out to sea. “What’s out there?”
Well, we were probably looking towards Sri Lanka, where we’ll strangely be in a couple of weeks’ time! Will we look back to Phuket?

As the time came to get back to headquarters, we waited for the bus, which the driver of the one we took to the beach told us to catch at 4pm. No show! So the outward journey cost just 40Baht each, whereas we each had to fork out 300Baht on the return.
It was an awesome day though, and what was really amazing was the fact that the 2004 Tsunami had hit Phuket really hard causing so much destruction. The majority of buildings and landscapes had to be rebuilt and it has come a long way to become, once again, a beautiful location.

Thursday 25 February 2010

Jon & Simon's Thai Cooking Class

Go to the market, seeking out only the freshest and juiciest produce. You might very well end up with the following:

7 chicken feet
Cabbage and Morning Glory
Fine rice noodles
1 medium, ripe pineapple
3 limes
Bunch of fresh coriander
2 large stalks of lemongrass
Ginger or galangal
4 cloves garlic
3 large shallots
6 assorted red and green chillies (you should deseed and be careful!)
Thai red curry paste (go easy with this!)
Coconut cream
Peanuts (crushed, to garnish)

Right, let’s make Chicken Feet Red Curry Noodle Soup with Pineapple! First you need to make the base of the soup: a great stock and a flavoursome curry. The chicken stock is made very simply by frying off 7 chicken feet in some vegetable oil until slightly brown (with burnt edges here and there if you are cooking on a hob that has no midpoint between high flame and zero, i.e. like us tonight!). Add water and bring to the boil for a couple of minutes, then let this pan of chicken feet simmer until the water turns to a dark brown. If you feel the need, add a few drops of fish sauce to create that extra tang!

Meanwhile, squirt some vegetable oil into a wok and chuck in chopped shallots, garlic, ginger, lemongrass and chillies and allow to brown.

Follow up with the addition of red curry paste (but not too much: consequences can be severe! Take it from us!) and then pour in coconut cream. The result is a warming yellow curry sauce, which begs to be eaten! But not yet, because the work is not yet done. Chop limes into halves and squeeze in the juice to taste. Once this concoction is complete and still brewing, the chicken stock can be tipped in to the mix, and then this can be transferred to a larger cooking pot.
For the final delight of our gorgeous grub, the wok can be reused to fry up some cabbage, “morning glory” (a vegetable that the Thais love) and some fine, fresh rice noodles. For the real deal, pineapple chunks should be added here! Once this has been fried to satisfaction, chuck this into the bubbling cauldron previously created, wait a minute, garnish with coriander and crushed peanuts, then serve! This is REAL Phuket food: we know, as we made it in Phuket: There’s no taste on earth like it!

If I were you, finally pop down to the Seven-Eleven for some milkshakes to quench the thirst…

Phuket Phood!

Well, you guessed correctly, we’ve made it to Thailand’s most popular island! But why? Well, we’re not here for the glitz, that’s for sure. Here in Phuket town, the streets are evocative of Sino-Portuguese trade in past centuries; the cuisine is top notch, and there are some hidden gems around the coast which we’ll be reporting on as the weekend approaches.

Arriving back into Bangkok Suvarnabhumi airport from Yangon, we had no idea exactly where we would end up. We moved slowly around the airline ticket desks asking about stand-by tickets and good deals leaving immediately. All flights to Kuala Lumpur were full: that will have to wait until next week. But the excellent Bangkok Airways could send us to Phuket that afternoon, and give us full use of their snazzy executive lounge. And here we are, at the Old Town Hostel, in the old quarter of Phuket town.

We managed to do what we do best: sniff out the local places for REAL food, and make them OUR locals, too. So, down to business:
1. Thai Spring Rolls. A few blocks away is a café doing a brisk trade in these large, tasty snacks.

They are fresh, not deep-fried like the Chinese variety. Crispy and crunchy, the spicy hoi sin sauce makes the flavours explode in the mouth. This guy must be turning one out every ten seconds or so; he looks like he’s being doing it for years, and it tastes like he’s an expert!

2. Hokkian Noodle Soup. The sign outside this little café says it’s the best noodle soup in Phuket. Who are we to disagree?

3. The Day Market. This is packed with ALL the ingredients for some tasty authentic Thai dishes.

We’ve already been shopping and bought lots of tasty food to create our interpretation of Southern Thai cuisine. Some people would pay upwards of $20 for a Thai cookery class. Well, we can go one stage better. For just 120 Baht, we’re going to take you through the stages of cooking an amazing dish: Chicken feet red curry noodle soup with pineapple.

Does that sound mouth-watering? You must cook this with us; just go down to Asda and get all the ingredients (maybe replacing chicken feet with chicken wings…) and we’ll do it all together! Look for the recipe in the next blog entry…

Wednesday 24 February 2010

Burma in Pictures

Remember we promised you a pictorial record of our amazing adventures in Myanmar? Well, here it is! If you'd like to make a link between the pictures or work out where we were in each shot, you'll have to read all the blog entries from Burma (Myanmar). No problem: you'll enjoy hearing all about the journey!





















Can you guess where we are yet? Ok, no? Well here's a clue: call us on 0066 87 80 78 663!
No more blogs until somebody posts us the correct answer!!

Tuesday 23 February 2010

Mystery Destination!

Well, the sights, sounds and smells of Burma have occupied us (consumed us would be more accurate) for the last twelve days. But where are we off to next?

Yesterday we experienced Yangon in all its glory. The grid-pattern of streets in the central part of the city are teeming with exotic life; the old, rotting colonial buildings tell of a faded glory; the stark, austere and fortified military buildings hint at the horrors of this evil regime, and the odours of all manner of dried spices and herbs in street and market stalls recall the pungent flavours of Burmese cuisine. This city ceased to be the capital some years ago, when a new city was born at Naypydaw. Foreigners are not permitted here, and we passed through on the train at night to see bright lights and concrete buildings. Yesterday we heard the true reason for the relocation of the governement to this new city, and the reason for many parts of the country near where we stayed being out-of-bounds. The hills which surrounded us are rich in Uranium, and the extraction is on a vast scale. One of the Generals was recently executed for blowing the whistle on a top-secret meeting with North Korea to develop a nuclear programme. So there it is: this austerely Buddhist country with the kindest, most gentle people has a government hell-bent on joining an arms race along with the usual suspects when it comes to rogue states. Nobody in the west seems to care, after all, there's no oil here...

To give just one example of the kindness which seems almost genetic here, as Simon was walking along past a market stall, his flip-flop broke in two just on the bit which goes between the toes. A young girl carefully fixed it with a safety pin, and refused to accept any form of payment. Everybody (grateful pedestrian included) grinned for a long time before normal life resumed! This happened on a stroll to visit the vast, golden Shwedagon Pagoda for sunset, when the air is heavy with incense and the sound of chanted prayers as the sun lights up the golden stupa. Magical.

But now, Burma lies behind us! So where, exactly, are we off to next? Well have a guess and see if you are right! We'll tell you when we get there, and now that we have a more resonable internet connection, we might just treat you to a blog entry devoted to many more of the fantastic photos we both took back in Myanmar. As for now, it's time to get some more sunblock and dig out the swimshorts...

Why not give us a call over the next few days if you'd like to hear our impressions of Burma, a recipe for Tom Yum, or just a general chit-chat about our new itinerary?! 0066 87 80 78 663

Monday 22 February 2010

Our Return to Yangon

Sadly it was time to say farewell to the magic of Inle Lake as the tuk-tuk sped us at 06.45 towards the train station at Shwenyaung. We eventually managed to set off on the slow train to Thazi at around 10.00, in the relative comfort of Upper Class. The long wait at the station flew by, aided and abetted by the delights of MRTV. Here the tv monitors on the station don’t show train times, but traditional and folk music from Myanmar. You should try watching or listing to some: it’s both excruciating and entertaining all at the same time!
We said ‘auf wiedersehen’ to Jörg at Kalaw, and were in Thazi in next to no time: a mere eleven hours after pulling out from our station of origin! Journeys such as this are made special not only by the breathtaking scenery; it’s all about the people you chat to along the way. The language barrier doesn’t matter one jot. A young guy with an Abercrombie baseball cap came to join us bearing quails eggs and handfuls of oranges. “Eat, eat!” he bade us, and eat we did. And grin, for that was all we could do. He grinned and grinned. Later an elderly man made a sterling attempt at engaging us in conversation, but the more whiskey he drank, the more tricky it all became. Across the aisle from us a large party of women were going on a pilgrimage to Mandalay to pray at a large Buddhist shrine. How did we glean this? Well, mainly from mime, since our Burmese stops just after “Mengala-bar”. We gave them a big fat cigar which they promised would become an offering in their ritual; they gave us oranges. Finally, our longest and most fulfilling chat came with three soldiers. Yes, the wicked government with its army…it’s full of really nice people, just like you and I. The eldest of the men was 53, an ex-soldier. We talked about many things, perhaps the most shocking of which was the divided Germany between East and West. He had no idea of, and was bemused by the reunification. Some news doesn’t get through here, does it? The other two soldiers were electrical engineers, and although both 20, looked much younger. They were proud of their uniforms, their families whom they showed us in photographs, and their graduation diplomas. They smiled, laughed and grinned all the way to Thazi with us, thrilled to be connecting with two English guys!
We only needed to doss down on a station bench at Thazi for three hour’s sleep before we made it onto the express train bound for Yangon, once more in the luxury of the reclining seats in the antique Chinese Upper Class carriage. As the train bounced through the night (sometimes so violently that we feared a derailment) we drifted in and out of sleep. At around 07.00 we were woken by the steward offering tea, coffee and fried rice. Now this fried rice was sensational, flavoured with paprika and fresh, green chilli. What a great breakfast! We pulled into Yangon on time at around 13.30, in time to find the Whitehouse, where we are to stay for just two nights. Our visit to Burma is drawing rapidly to a close, and we wish we had more time to spend here. The scenery is stunning, the local practices exotic and the people shy but totally endearing.

Around Nyaungshwe

After all these days of exertion, it was time to live by one of THE most important travellers’ rules: have a day off! Breakfast was a leisurely affair, taken on the balcony of the Joy Hotel: great coffee and tea, oranges and fresh papaya, together with a tasty tomato omelette. Each reference we make to fresh fruit and vegetables here in Nyaungshwe is unique to this area: everything is grown on the lake in the floating gardens and is brought into town by the characteristic longtail boats. Tomoatoes this fresh and this unusual are very special tomatoes, and we can’t get enough of them. Watching all the farmers bringing their produce to market on the canal right next to the hotel is absolutely fascinating. This just goes to prove that the agricultural economy here is booming, and day and night the lorries loaded with fresh produce bound for Mandalay and Yangon bear witness to this. It’s refreshing to see that a place which could so easily have become a tourist trap can also maintain its true heritage.
Jörg took us on a stroll into the countryside to the south east of the town, exploring some ruined stupas and a fascinating monastery which had a number of novices. Here the prayer-hall was also their schoolroom, complete with blackboard, exercise books and cane. A large collection of cats also lived alongside these monks, but this time there was no jumping for the tourists!

Working up quite an appetite, we called in for lunch at the Pancake Kingdom. Their tag-line on all the signs in town was “Are u bored of rice?” Far from it, the rice dishes here can be fantastic; but we are a little bored with the inappropriate use of text-speak… The pancakes were good, but the star of the show was a fruit salad with yoghurt. The generous portions of apple, papaya, pineapple, banana and strawberry were all grown right here, whilst the yoghurt had that zesty tang which characterises the lassis we had last year. The strawberries were tiny, bursting in the mouth with a massive punch! Over lunch, we planned dinner!
The afternoon brought one fascinating shock to the system: the local dentist. There buried in the warren of stall of the Mingala Market was the most basic of dental surgeries we have ever seen. Really, it’s a junk shop, but pride of place in the centre of the lock-up was an antique, 1940s army field dental drill, operated by pedal power. The dentist told us that his grandfather used it, then his father. Today he was giving one proud gnasher-owner a bit of a polish. His mouth red from years of pan-chewing, he grinned and nodded, setting his seal of approval on the proceedings.

For our last night in town and to cement our friendship with the knowledgeable and articulate Jörg (who, incidentally, has travelled in Burma numerous times and in Asia in general frequently) we visited Shan Land Restaurant. Good move! The mains slanted towards the Chinese border with Shan state: hot and sour pork; sweet and sour pork (with carrots, tomato, sweet and sour sauce and little crispy cubes of pork which had been battered and deep-fried). The sides were amazing: a hot cauliflower salad with chilli and peanut; a tomato salad heavily laced with coriander. Chicken fried rice and steamed rice completed the order; the table groaned under the weight, whilst the grateful diners munched contentedly, speaking the odd phrase in English, the rest in German.

The Trek to Kakku

Much of the high plateau of Shan state is vast and untamed; it’s also out-of-bounds to foreigners. This level of governmental control is hard to figure. What don’t they want us to see here? Maybe it’s just because they are acutely embarrassed by the poor quality of the roads; maybe they don’t want us to see normal village life. Well, whatever the reasons, we managed to circumvent the rules: today we went right off the radar! We set off with our new German friend, Jörg, and discovered this out of bounds location.
In order to do this, we had to undertake a gruelling six-hour trek into the mountains. We were up and about again around 6.00 am to take the wonderful longtail boat journey down to Nanpan (it’s just like being in Venice with these sleek, black gondola-like vessels). As our plan was to delve deep into the Pa-O territory, we picked up a knowledgeable local guide, who greeted us in his smart Pa-O tribal clothes: navy blue flowing long trousers and jacket, white shirt and colourful turban: the Pa-O don’t wear the Burmese ‘longyi’. The trek began without any hesitation, and from the off involved cutting across fields, rice paddies and through woodland. The rural way of life here is very simple, but totally compelling. We called in on a small cottage industry: here sugar cane juice was being boiled up and made into squares of tasty, moreish jaggery. Nothing here is wasted, for the furnace was being stoked by the dried sugarcane stalks, and the ash is recycled as fertiliser on the fields. It tasted good too!
The ascent to the top of Hti Ne mountain was both steep and winding, but totally worth it for the magnificent, breathtaking views along the way, back down the valley. Eventually we made it to the smart, large village of Naung Kei. Here many of the houses were reinforced with brick and proudly sported bright blue window frames. From here there was a short ride to Kakku: “A hidden treasure, an unusual magnificent collection of Buddhist stupas, unheard of by historians and unlisted in guidebooks lies in the deepest Pa-O territory southern part of Taunggyi, the capital of Shan State in Myanmar.”

The taxi ride back increased our adrenaline levels, as it seemed as though cars played “Chicken” with one another. When our taxi met oncoming traffic, our driver tended to wait until the very last half-second before swerving out of the way. Saying that, our driver had attitude and most people were moving out of our way as he beeped his horn fiercely. On arrival to Nyaungshwe, we followed Jörg to his favourite local pub where we enjoyed the best green salad ever (was it Morning Glory or watercress, none of us can be quite sure…) with an accompaniment of peanuts and lashings of Myanmar beer! Prost!

Samkar: The Second Lake

This was just an all-round awesome day! We reunited with Marije and Seth at 7:00am and we all clambered into an engine-powered wooden boat! It was interesting to watch over the quaint typical housing with people dressed in longis, showering using a bucket that they would dunk into the dirty canal water and pour over themselves. There were others who were trudging through the muddy banks, either with their goods or allowing their water buffalo to bathe in the refreshing coolness of the water; not that it was needed at this hour! Shan state has a large variation in temperature throughout the day, just like in Luang Prabang where were were just over a week ago. The sun’s rays have the ability to absolutely frazzle anything in their path, but in the early morning it can be quite cold. As we continued on our boat trip, the bitterness of the combination of cold ambience and wind chill kept us all shivering in our hoodies and wrapped up in the boat’s complimentary blankets.
Today was to be very meaningful because we were to explore the section of the Inle lake area for which foreigners need permission to access, and a guide that we had to meet further out on the lake. Burma is not touristic, especially when comparing how many Westerners we’ve seen in other countries, but it was still fantastic to get away from the few tourists that explore the Nothern part of Inle. Everything we saw was real life as from the closure of the Northern lake into a meandering streak with long grass curving towards us, which created an illusion of narrowness. We encountered more of the creative masterpieces for houses that stood on stilts, and we observed the people of Inle as they fished, or as they paddled smaller, basic boats full of vegetables to trade at the markets. Sometimes the boats were so full that it looked as if they were about to sink, but the experienced people of the Inle waters knew their limits! Armed with our Pa-O guide, we passed the check point into the restricted zone: Samkar, where Pa-O farmers, Inthe fisherfolk and native Shan tribes happily co-exist.
Once the lake had reopened up into another vast body, we gazed for as far as our eyes could see to the surrounding mountains and the green landscape was interrupted by the occasional red blossoms that were hanging on some of the trees that were lower down with us in the valley.
That day there was a lakeside market at Lont Kant, and here we bought some very tasty deep-fired snacks. Then it was off to Samkar itself to visit the ancient stupas and large village, before a tasty lunch of fried rice with vegetables.


This managed to soak up the rice wine we had been quaffing at the small still which had been set up just where a spring from the mountains disgorged its pure, chilled water into the lake. This rice wine came in two versions: 40% and 60%. Cheers!
The trip back north was magical, observing water buffalo and villagers bathing in the river, as well as smartly dressed women walking from village to village. This rural idyll is being carefully preserved, and must surely rate as one of the most fascinating, beautiful, peaceful and well-balanced places we’ve ever visited.

Meeting The Venerable U Kon Dala

The following morning, we awoke to the sound of prayers being chanted. This floated up to us, wafted with the aroma of onions frying. Being awoken with the sound of a sung litany of devotion is nothing new to us: remember last year how the muezzins’ call to prayer would intermingle above the roof tops of Old Jerusalem? But here the sound is more fervent, more individual, and somehow much more exotic. Breakfast was Shan style: noodle soup with lashings of fresh and dried chilli, complete with some UFOs (that’s ‘unidentified floating objects’, so we broke Greg’s number one rule of travelling, which is: “never put anything into your mouth that you can’t identify). Followed by a quick trip to a tour office to collect two ‘Giant’ 24-gear mountain bikes. And did they ride like a dream, so much better than the Laotian ones? Oh, YES!
Out from Nyaungshwe we sped, past the rice paddies and massive water buffalo. Then, “what’s this?” To our left was Ywa Thit village with its vast monastery, complete with stupas, and a track, which the bikes could manage. “Shall we see this place from close up?”
It all looked so grand! The monastery was made entirely of teak and, despite its huge size, only two monks were living there. In fact we noticed one of the monks at the window beckoning us to go over and chat. He was very excited to meet us, as he probably doesn’t get visitors as often as he’d like. We removed our shoes before climbing up the teak stairs to the large prayer room, complete with Buddhas, flowers and lanterns. The monk introduced himself to us. His name is The Venerable U Kon Dala. He threw open the massive teak windows of the prayer hall to flood it with light and gave us plenty of oranges to eat (and for jon to juggle with…) as we chatted. For a man in his eighties, he moved around in a sprightly way, making sure his newfound friends had everything they might need. In exchange we put some notes into the donation box and shared a packet of cookies with him. He was ecstatic to hear that we were English.
“Ing-ger-land, Ing-ger-land” he chanted as a litany of delight;
“Very good quality!” he exclaimed as he put his thumbs up, listing English companies and products from the 1950s, many of which are no more. His view of the great colonial power was exceedingly high, and his knowledge of British workmanship was viewed through rose-tinted spectacles. He showed us round the monastery, and was sad to see us leave. As we parted, shaking both of us by the hand, his other hand placed over his heart, he began slowly and deliberately, miming each word: "My dear brother..." as he wished us both bon voyage and contented lives. It must be a lonely existence out here, meditating for the peace of the world and only receiving alms from the few villagers who come here, the mighty monastery which once thundered with the sound of countless novices now home to just two wise men.

The day was still very young and we still had some exploring of the Western side of the lake to do, so we departed from the monastery and waved back to the chirpy monk. As we proceeded along the slightly bumpy and undulating roads, we met our friend, Gary, from Hong Kong. He pointed us in the direction of another stupa that stood high on a hill overlooking the lake, boasting a white dome and a large, old bell. It was at the very tip that we met two new friends, Marije and Seth who are both travelling together all the way from the Netherlands! There were also two Canadians there with whom we briefly talked about past travels. We stuck our curious noses into the interior of the monastery to find a monk sitting on a large straw mat with a flask and some small glasses. He beckoned us over, and over we went! We enjoyed several cups of green tea with this monk and the Hollandaise!
After chilling out for a while, the four of us cycled back towards Nyuangshwe, where we were to find a small restaurant to get some tuck and to organise the next day’s epic adventure. We arranged to meet Marije and Seth in the early morning, before splitting off to enjoy some more cycling around local villages. We pedalled on dusty tracks, passing houses made entirely from flattened bamboo, rice paddies, oxen pulling hefty carts and another monastery, which had a large Buddha sitting upright looking as though he was keeping a watchful eye on the surrounding villages.
As the sun was setting, we headed back to return the bikes and onwards to meet Gary for dinner. He knew of a restaurant serving traditional Burmese curries with all-you-can-eat rice, soup, pickled mango and dried up fish flakes and beans. It was very good value, but we needed to override the aftertaste with an avocado milk shake and a papaya version! We have established a local bar “Min Mins”, which is just sec secs away from our hostel. This is the ultimate place to have a smoothie, or five, to pass the night away!

A Day on Inle Lake

This is what we had been waiting for, and not only that; it has been the highlight dream during the planning of our Southeast Asian expedition. After having a substantial breakfast, we strolled eagerly to meet our guide who was waiting at half-past ten near the jetty, as arranged. “Mingalabar!”, we exclaimed as we greeted him in Burmese.
The single most wonderful thing about the people of Myanmar is that they are so appreciative of foreigners greeting them in Burmese. It seems to put smiles on their faces and they almost always respond with “Mingalabar”, but it a very enthusiastic tone.
We stopped quickly to pick up some bottled water to avoid dehydration and mounted the long, thin boat, which was wooden with an engine at the back that provided power for the propeller. Due to the fact that it is currently the dry season in Myanmar, Inle Lake and the canals surrounding this body are all relatively shallow, meaning that it is fairly common to see the propellers half out of the water at the moment. For the same reason, it didn’t go unnoticed that traditional working families were using oars, not for paddling, but for pushing against the bed of the lake to move their boat forward.
As we were released into the vast openness of the still lake, we stared at the incredible fishermen doing what they do best. It was all very mysterious because, from a distance, the fishermen appeared as silhouettes that were backlit by the morning sun. They seemed to row their boats in a very unique manor in that they were standing on the very front of their boats with one foot, whereas their other foot was pushing a large oar behind. As a silhouette, it fairly accurately resembled Long John Silver with his wooden leg! The fishermen also took a large bell-shaped net aboard each of their wooden boats to aid their catch. In order to catch fish, the fundamental importance appears to be rowing whilst stood because it allows the fishermen to glance into the lake’s clear water in search of fish. Then they place their net in the water and beat their oars on the surface of the lake, which disturbs the fish so that they frantically swim into the centre of the net where they are speared by the watchful eye of the captain. We couldn’t help but watch in amazement on a fishing technique that is so different to what we know.
We proceeded alongside floating clusters of hyacinths here and there and gazed upward to see that we were being followed every so often by swallows, herons, and cormorants. This was wilderness! Our first stop was at the Nampan Market, a considerably busy market given the fairly small population around Inle. As our boat pulled up to the side of the lake, we resisted the temptation of buying some useless junk from two women rowing their boat straight for us. We clambered across two other boats that had moored up already so that we could get our dry selves on land without falling into the water. At first sight, there were some souvenir stalls for the tourists, but exploring deeper resulted in a very rewarding experience of the real life of Shan people. We stopped for tea and coffee at one of the stalls, as well as snacking on vegetable samosas, chapatis and sweet spring rolls. We were also able to observe of the daily market trading of local produce, from axes and woks to chillies and even medicines. The market was an organised chaos of low-hanging tarpaulin canopies, dusty pathways and merry people shouting to one another. It was a fun environment to be in!
Alas we couldn’t stay in the market all day, but it was all very exciting because we were about to embark on another interesting experience. We were taken to a small complex of wooden houses that were supported above the lake with long, wooden stilts. On entering the buildings we watched women who were weaving wonderful works with warp and weft. One elderly lady was sitting on alone on the floor snapping lotus stalks, in order to collect the very fine fibres from within. The fibres were rolled together to make a single thicker aggregation, similar to string and this was wound around a reel for storage until further use. Lotus fibres weren’t the only materials being used in this textile workshop, but cotton and silk were also aplenty. We observed a room full of ladies seated at their complicated-looking weaving machines. Thread was set up in several vertical and horizontal assemblages within a large wooden framework that was mostly controlled by four foot pedals. Rhythmic knocking sounds of the small wooden blocks carrying the thread seemed to be helping the weavers keep consistently efficient. On the way out we had a look at some of the finished products and it certainly was incredible to realise that they had produced beautiful, delicate scarves, shirts, and trousers to name a few, all from scratch: from the stage of picking the lotus plants, or collecting the cotton.
After taking in these incredible works, it was time to relax with a cigar, though this was the last thing we expected. We crossed to another section of the lake and entered another suspended house where there were a few young ladies inside making cigars of all sizes. These women had tobacco ready to be wrapped up in decent sized leaves to make the bulk, but they didn’t forget to include the filters, which were made using leaves of maize that were wrapped into tight coils. We were offered some sweet rice crackers and a small cigar that had been made in this very place. The cigar was good but we preferred the rice crackers!
After a quick stop at a floating restaurant for noodle and egg soup, we carried on to see something that we really wanted to see. The boat pulled up beside a small, rickety pier and we walked up to this wooden shop. But inside were tribal Burmese women who had maintained a tradition of wearing large, heavy coils around their necks. These women had been wearing these golden coils since the age of nine years old and have been able to extend the length of the coil over many years as the coils caused their shoulders to be pushed permanently downwards. These coils are never removed because without these, there isn’t enough muscle development to support the vast length of the neck. Without the coils, their necks would simply snap.
It was time for the final highlight of the day: the jumping cats. To see these, we had to visit the monastery of Nga Phe Kyaung, where we moored the boat, took off our shoes in respect, and approached the feline curiosities. They jumped.