Inle Lake, Myanmar

Somehow, we survived the four-hour hike. And although it was miserable, I laughed as it happened. Life’s too short not to. I knew I would survive. I knew it would be short lived. I knew it only sucked for a little bit. So as all the sucky happened, I thought of telling this story one day. How ridiculous it really was, and that helped me see the light at the end of the tunnel.

Thank you, whoever brought that light, because it came in the form of a hot shower and change of clothes. And it was amazing. Our hostel let us use the facilities once we retuned, even though we stayed only 1 night. I took a long, cold, refreshing shower. We were still not feeling better, and although the shower was nice, we tried to rebook the tickets so we could rest and relax in a big bed and get a good nights sleep. Unfortunately, we couldn’t rebook, so we packed up and walked to the bus stop, where two nights before we ran into our long lost friends.

We were on our way to Inle Lake, and a long night bus ride did not interest me. I anticipated the rough roads and bad driving, and I was still not feeling better. My good attitude and positivity was faded, I was drained and wanted comfort. I cried as the bus departed, tears slowly streaming down my cheeks, and for the first time I said, “I want to go home.” We snuggled as best as we could in upright, crappy bus seats, and Will helped me fall asleep, letting my worries drift away. I didn’t sleep well, but got at least a bit of rest before the bus dropped us off around 4am. Since Japan, my foot had been aching on the side, probably just stress from the increase in walking and traveling by foot, and after our mountain trek, the pain was fairly severe. I hobbled the few meters from the bus stop to our guesthouse, dropped my pack, and slumped into the lobby chair when I found out our room wouldn’t be ready until 6am.

Will grabbed some pillows and blankets, made me a comfy bed on the wooden bench with my name on it, and I was content to sleep there for the would-be two hours until our room was prepared for our arrival. 30 minutes into my lobby snooze-fest, a group of Italians walked in and were immediately given a room. That didn’t sit well with me, and I very angrily went back to sleep, super annoyed that we couldn’t have that room. Somehow, my grumpy attitude made me sleep hard, and I didn’t wake up until housekeeping was cleaning the lobby hours later. We enjoyed the free breakfast (it was generour of them to allow us to indulege on our arrival day), and we were finally let in our room around 7. We saw the giant king size bed with white linens and practically raced each other to jump in. We slept all morning, waking in the early afternoon. We spent the rest of the day watching specials on Japan and 5 or 6 American movies. We were happy, comfortable, and recovering. I don’t think we ate anything after breakfast that day. It didn’t matter, we didn’t want to. We even went back to bed fairly early that night. It was such a nice day. Sometimes, a lazy day in a big comfy bed is all you need to feel revived.

It was refreshing for our bodies and souls, and we woke up ready to explore the city. We rented bikes and cruised around town, making our way along the lake. The brakes on my bike were stuck, making my ride ridiculously difficult and frustrating. About 25 minutes in, failing to pedal uphill has the brakes scraped away all my efforts, I lost my cool, bounced of the bike, and chucked it into the dirt. A full on temper tantrum. I yelled some profanity, took a breath, sheepishly looked at Will and apologized for my sudden outrage. He played with the brakes a bit, seemed to get them loosened up, and offered to switch bikes. As much as I would have preferred to spare him from the torment that bike carried, my quads were screaming “MAKE THE DEAL!! TRADE BIKES” so we opted to take turns. A bit up the road, the bike bit back when Will had pulled over again to try to loosen up the unnecessary death grip. A quick little unplanned spin of the tire left a nice bloddy gash in Will’s finger. I had even apologized to the bike for throwing it in the bushes, but karma has a sneaky way of balancing the world again, and must have known hurting Will would hurt me more than a cut on my own finger. Of course, he claimed stitches were necessary as I laughed, trying to remain sympathetic, as the cut absolutely did NOT need stitches, just a Band-Aid and kiss, so I got him bandaged up as best I could from the dirt-roadside and peddled on.

Under my breath, I apologized to both Will and the bike again.

(another CLASSIC Will in action... blurry photo...)

We stopped for a quick lunch and water refill, and found a local to take us, bikes included, across the lake to the other side. Inle Lake is a large body of water, and many tours boast a great boat ride through the little water villages built along the shore, jutting right into the water, homes lifted on stilts and waterways with boats instead of car-clad streets. We opted to cruise on our own, and for a much smaller price, hopped in a longboat and floated from shore to shore, awestruck by the fisherman who paddled and steered with one leg on a long, stilt like oar to free both hands for fishing.

Our local dropped us as the end of a long dock, so we carefully strolled with our bikes along side to the shoreline, waiting until dry land to mount again. We peddled furiously around the other side, making our way in the direction of home. The countryside was beautiful, and we saw many travelers and locals alike enjoying the windy road.

Inle Lake is home to two vineyards, so we naturally planned to stop and check at least one out. We were sweaty and hot by the time we made it to Red Mountain Estate VIneyard & Winery, and the only thing keeping us from a chilled glass of rose was a very large hill made for walking, not peddling, so we parked the bike alongside al the others, marched up the rudely steep hill, entering the glory land.

We roamed around the grounds, which were green, lush, and unlike any terrain we’d seen in Myanmar, and skipped the tour to start the tasting portion of our afternoon. We each tried a flight of the local wines, an additional glass of Riesling, and ordered a bottle of their rose, a sweet, slightly bubbly, pretty pink blend that, despite it’s mediocre flavor, filled me with such happiness I didn’t care ‘2 Buck Chuck’ was a better bottle. We sipped as the sunset, chatted with a few couples, felt that nice wine buzz 3 months missed, and celebrated another amazing day on the road.

The grin on my face the entire ride home made my cheeks hurt, but I didn’t mind. We grabbed a quiet dinner and headed back to our white-sheet heaven for bed. It was a fun, fulfilling day.

Breakfast was included at the Remember Inn where we called home for those few days in Inle Lake, and we took full advantage of the bottomless pot of coffee. Feeling charged for the day, we set out to explore our neighborhood, stumbling upon a cute little wine bar for another glass of Inle Lake Riesling. We relaxed the rest of the day, researched our next spot, and waited to board the night bus to Yangon, the last city on our Myanmar tour.

From Inle Lake, with Love,

Sara + Will