Burmese Days pt. 2: Inle Lake

Hello, xin chào, and မင်္ဂလာပါ (mingalaba)!

I'm currently writing from Penang, Malaysia, trying to pump out these posts about my trip to Myanmar last month. The next stop after Yangon was Inle Lake, located in the mountains of Shan State. With its stilted villages and stunning scenery, Inle was absolutely one of my favorite places I've ever been anywhere in the world.

Two fisherman on the lake paddling with their feet, as is traditional in the area.

My night bus actually arrived a few hours early, so just before sunrise I walked to my hostel in the small town of Nyaungshwe, bleary eyed as could be. I was excited to use a Western toilet (rather than the non-flushing squat toilets at the highway rest stops), and I was absolutely elated that the hostel let me check in and get to my bed at 6:30am. I slept for a solid 4-5 hours and then arranged an afternoon boat trip at the front desk.

The market in Nyaungshwe.

After a quick lunch, my boat driver met me at my hostel and walked me to the canal connecting Nyaungshwe to the lake. I ended up with a slightly pricey private trip (about $15), as I wanted to head to a relatively remote corner of the lake to visit a highly recommended pagoda. The rest of my 5-hour itinerary was up to the driver.

A presumably abandoned hut along the canal.

Even though it was 1pm and the sun beat down overhead, the high elevation meant it was never hotter than 80°, perfect for a boat ride. The fisherman two photos above are reputed to put on little shows of their balancing abilities for tourists, taking tips for photos—I noticed a few other boats with a lot more people on them stopped nearby—but as far as I could tell, the fishermen I saw were just going about business as usual.

A local tending to the floating gardens.

We spent a while just cruising across the lake, with the driver slowing down so I could take some pictures of people fishing. After about an hour of just relaxing and taking in the scenery, we arrived at the first of many stilted villages, where I was shepherded into a silversmith workshop.

Looking out at the canals from the workshop.

A very friendly English-speaking guy around my age briefly showed me how they make their jewelry and then led me to one of their many display cases. At least partially out of guilt, I ended up buying a cool silver ring for about $10 even though I have never worn a ring before. Turns out I like it! I wandered back further into the shop and found a few stacks of antique folding scrolls. I opened a few a up and knew I had to buy one.

The scroll I purchased, hanging in my apartment.

It was $60, but that wasn't going to stop me. On the reverse, it has Burmese text lightly etched from top to bottom, and it's a great reminder of one of the coolest travel experiences I've ever had. I got back on my boat, and we left the lake proper for a long canal winding past villages and fields.

Along the canal heading to Inn Dein Pagoda.

We finally arrived at a larger village where my boat dropped me off, and I took up the offer of a $4 motorbike ride up to Inn Dein Pagoda and back. After a 5-minute ride into the foothills, I made it to the spectacular pagoda and its gleaming stupas.

Stupas at Inn Dein.

Countless stupas stretched out in every direction, and there was a lovely view of the valley  and mountains in the distance.

Looking out from Inn Dein.

One of many dogs on the grounds of the pagoda.

It could not have been more serene there in the fading afternoon light. Chimes were clinking everywhere, and I don't think I saw more than half a dozen other people during half an hour there. I'm pretty sure there were more dogs than people up there.

A local woman playing with her baby.

My motorbike driver gave me a time limit, but I would have stayed there forever if I could have. Though I was disappointed to leave so soon, the driver offered to take me further up the hill to a stupa with a view of the pagoda and the whole valley.

Inn Dein from above.

He led me up a steep dirt path to the empty stupa. I was so far off the beaten path at this point that there was something about being up there that honestly made me feel like an explorer. It was incredible.

Waiting to get back on my boat at Inn Dein village.

My driver then took me back down to the turquoise waters of the canal in Inn Dein village. Back on the boat, I was taken around a few more villages.

A village somewhere on Inle Lake.

We made another stop—this time at a lotus- and silk-weaving workshop. I got a really cool (and private since I was probably their last visitor of the day) demonstration of how they extract lotus fibers for weaving. The lotus fabric is absurdly expensive—multitudes more than silk—so I was not buying anything here.

Passing through another village at sunset.

We pressed along on a route decided by the boat driver and made a final stop at another workshop. I'm not quite sure what they actually made there since it just seemed like standard souvenir garbage, but the main "attraction" was seeing the long-necked women. Shan State is actually home to the small ethnic group that practices neck-lengthening by placing gold rings around women's necks. As far as I know, they're not even from around Inle Lake, but I guess it must be good for business to offer pictures with/of them. I did not take a picture—it felt way too much like a human zoo.

The floating gardens from a distance.

Just as it was getting dark, the driver briefly pulled off to show me the floating gardens up close. Sure enough, there were tomatoes growing in the dense, floating greenery.

The last sunset picture, I promise.

We just sat there floating for a few minutes, and with my boat's engine turned off, it was an unforgettable moment of stillness after a beautiful day. At this point, the temperature was dipping into the low 70s, and speeding across the lake back to Nyaungshwe got so cold I had to use an umbrella to shield my exposed limbs. Once in town, I settled upon a very highly rated Indian restaurant called Innlay Hut (313) for dinner. Surely, in a town of 80,000 people in the mountains of Myanmar, it was a coincidence that the restaurant's name online included Detroit's area code, right? Wrong.

My receipt from Innlay Hut.

Turns out the place is run by a charismatic and totally wacky guy in his late 20s or early 30s who is obsessed with Eminem and Detroit—to the point that the only music that played during my meal was Eminem. There was Eminem and Detroit memorabilia everywhere—I couldn't believe it. This guy was clearly emulating Eminem's style, because he was cursing all over the place, had the whole rapper-style cadence when he spoke, and would have little dance outbursts in front of all the diners.

City of Detroit flag upstairs at the restaurant.

He asked me where I was from, and he was so excited that he gave me some free naan. He rolled up his sleeves to show me his tattoo of the Tigers' Old English D, and apparently he was planning on naming his next restaurant after Detroit. The food meanwhile, was beyond delicious. Overall, it was a truly absurd and unlikely coincidence.

The next day, I found probably the only motorbike rental place in Nyaungshwe and decided to head out on my own for the day. The roads were in surprisingly good condition, and the scenery was beautiful. I definitely made it out past where most tourists go, as bike rentals were the main way to get around on land there.

One of many sunflower fields I passed on my drive.

I passed farms, a few resorts, and several fields of sunflowers. I didn't have any particular destination in mind besides a stilted village and a monastery that each had some good reviews on Google Maps. They certainly weren't in any travel guide.

Walking down the bridge to Maing Thauk.

I pulled off at the entrance to the bridge to Maing Thauk village, intending to park my bike and walk in as far as I could. A few people offered me boat rides as I pressed along, but I assumed they were offering trips across the lake or sightseeing trips like I had done the day before. At the end of the bridge, though, a woman offered me a 20 minute trip around the village for $1.30. I had gone as far as I could on foot, so why not?

View of the front of my boat.

I was so, so glad I took her up on the offer. I stepped into a wooden boat whose sides cleared the surface of the water by only a few inches, and a woman standing in the back paddled us along.

The water was so still you could see clear reflections of houses in the village.

I could not believe my eyes—the water was so blue and so still, and the village was impossibly peaceful. Aside from a few restaurants near the bridge, nothing in this village was set up for tourists.

A man paddling through the village.

I periodically dipped my hands into the cool fresh water and took in the incomparable scenery.

A girl sitting on the bow of a boat like the one I was on.

Even looking at the photos now, it's hard to believe I was that up-close and personal with such an unfiltered slice of local life. After an extraordinary 20 minutes, I was brought back to the beginning of the bridge, and I got on my motorbike to head up to the monastery.

View from the monastery. Maing Thauk is visible around the canal on the left.

I passed more farms on a nearly abandoned stretch of road as I headed up a steep hill. I saw only a few locals on my way up—some of whom greeted me with a friendly "hello" or "mingalaba." I was following hand-painted signs to the top, where I found a stupa and a covered deck looking out over the lake. For a while, I was literally the only person up there—the monastery was close, just behind the stupa, but there was no indication that anyone else was around as I took pictures from the secluded deck. After admiring the view, I headed back down to the main road to continue my excursion.

Rice paddies and a village on the lakeshore.

There wasn't too much else to see besides the occasional village. At the last place I stopped before turning around, I'm pretty sure school must've let out. I got to watch tons of people crisscross the rice paddies in the distance, and I could faintly hear some shouting and chatter. I headed back towards Nyaungshwe and stopped off to catch the sunset at Inle's most bizarre attraction: one of Myanmar's two wineries.

Sampling Myanmar's finest.

For $3.30, I got a pre-selected flight of four wines. One of the whites was good, one of the whites was okay, and both reds were straight-up gross. Either way, it was a cheap way to get a nice, relaxing sunset view.

After sunset, I made my way back to town, found more delicious curry, and packed my things for my second night bus. This bus was not nearly as nice as the first one, but this time I actually slept for most of the ride since I had gotten my hands on some Benadryl in Nyaungshwe. Next stop? The temples of Bagan.

To be continued—check out more photos from Inle Lake here.

Till next time,
Gray