We’ve been in a sardine tin which has accidentally been left in someones pocket and ended up in the washing machine – also known as a Myanmar minibus. It was hard to believe it could get better until we saw the addition of a scooter to the roof. We arrived in Inle to no internet: an unusual situation in this country. There’s a lemon propped up behind the toilet in our bathroom, we don’t know why.
We went on a boat trip the next day. We went to a lotus weaving shop, a silver shop, a tobacco shop, an umbrella shop and, you guessed it, a jumping cat monastery. In this fabled place, there were five cats all of which were not jumping and just sort of sat there. The views were nice and Inle lake is very beautiful; there were cormorants and herons flying around – also seagulls, the water rats of the sky. Mr Grumps, our 21 year old boat driver, the weight of the world sitting heavily on his young shoulders, moped about most of the day kicking cans down the street like an insolent teenager when we were on dry land. On the way back, our curse of Burmese bad luck continued with a sigh of anguish from a long suffering Mr Grumps and a pathetic final splutter of the boat. We then sat there pathetically, much like bacon in a frying pan, for the following hour drifting sadly into a pile of lake weeds waiting for a repair boat. A highlight was a rather fancy snail shell washing up which I plucked from the crystal clear waters. Our cries of happiness were short-lived however, as the klutzy oaf Phoebe stood on it with her gigantic oaf feet and squished it. It sank slowly in the murky, lakey abyss – it summed up our mood.
The next day we did nothing important; I drank a questionable liquid with strange frogspawn-like balls inside. Phoebe wishes the record to show it was the day which had the worst toilets.