The morning starts well, we are, despite the cold and terrible nocturnal noises in a good mood, enjoy the breakfast, laugh, chatter.
Quite surprisingly in the early morning a thin fog hangs in the air. The trees in the background disappear in the milky soup.
A wonderfully peaceful mood. Also the cows seem to enjoy it.
Fog
The phase of mutual exchange of mostly banal travel experiences is long over, now other topics are hot at breakfast. From Game of Thrones and Queen Beatrix, house prices in Holland and marriage plans, the scary future and things that should happen faster. And about terrorism, the Paris attacks and everything that could result from them.
But again and again our eyes wander over the adjoining meadows, the farm with the cows chewing comfortably on their food. It is the fog that fascinates. It lies weightless above the world like a hovering breath, a shimmering, moving haze covering everything with a mild patina.
Just beautiful.
Then we start hiking again. First we go to a kind of pharmacy, where Sanny knows someone who sells a surefire remedy for diarrhoea and abdominal pain. I'm a little suspicious when the guy offers me a cup of a strange-looking liquid. That stuff looks like you could poison someone with it, but what the hell, it can't get much worse. And indeed – in the course of the day my gastrointestinal tract recovers. Probably out of sheer terror about the unfamiliar medicine.
Frodo-Country
Today we have another 20 kilometer to go, that's why we start early so that we can escape the scorching sun. We are now a well-trained group, almost professionals, although the petite Stefanie still claims to be everything, but certainly not a hiker.
The first few kilometres are a journey through Lord-of-the-Rings territory. Almost like Frodo and his companions, we follow the narrow footpath, surrounded by cobwebs and bushes that quietly swaying in the morning wind. However, the cobwebs also remind us of Mirkwood, where the dwarves and Bilbo met the murderous giant spiders. We wouldn't like that. Or did something move in the dense bushes?
The first kilometres along fields covered in fog are the highlight of this trek, which indeed has provided many wondrous impressions. One feels in one's own world, enchanting and ominous at the same time. A day worth remembering.
The observation tower
Sometime in the afternoon a strange construction catches our eye from afar. Is it an observation tower? And if so, for what? There is nothing to see far and wide. Of course we can't resist the temptation to climb all the way to the top. However, the construction fluctuates under the weight, and it is advisable not to test the load-bearing capacity any further.
Sometimes we are observed, suspicious children's eyes follow our movements. When we look in their direction, they turn away in fear and disappear behind bushes. But they are just sweet children. We wish we could give them all presents, but then we would need trucks.
Broken trees and other surprises
Sometimes Sanny's the only one talking. The rest of us are trapped in the beauty of the surroundings and perceive it in silence. Every word is superfluous and would disturb the peace. And occasionally thoughts come up that deal with the December cold at home and the fact that here in the middle of summer we march through blooming areas, sweating and sometimes cursing the sun hitting us with merciless power at noon.
Sometimes a stop
Every now and then, a village emerges from nowhere, or at least something like a restaurant, where the thirsty and tired trekkers can eat. As always, one wonders what people are doing, sitting around rather bored, apparently part of the inventory in some way or other.
The earth is turning red
The closer we get to the valley where the Inle Lake lays, the redder the earth becomes. The path descends now, the plain is opening.
Farewell to Sanny
So we continue through the changing coloured landscape, but now it's mostly downhill, towards the plain where Inle Lake is located. We reach it punctually, another lucullan lunch awaits us, and Sanny gives another taste of his KungFu abilities, this time with sticks.
Well, one thing's for sure, I don't want to get into a fight with him. He would simply smash me - and also Chris and Sebastian, who are one head taller - to pieces. The farewell to him, because from here the boat driver takes over, is wistful, because we know that we will never see him again.
The Inle Lake
The first channels turn up, carrying brown-red water. Boats rattle past, some filled with food brought to the villages on the lake. Now the memories come up. The former excursion to Inlé-Lake was in every respect a highlight of a journey full of highlights. The yearning to see this still preserved gem again is fulfilled today.
It's a place I fell hopelessly in love with. However, I fear the worst. Since my last visit, the number of tourists has multiplied, and everyone knows what this means for fragile places like the Inlé lake.
Destruction.
But we will see …
An ambivalent experience
The trip over the Inle lake is an ambivalent experience for me. The differences to the trip 11 years ago are striking: Now almost every second, speedboats are roaring by, fully loaded with tourists, one has the impression as if a general destruction had been set in motion. Which would be an infinite pity, because this jewel should be protected urgently.
But it seems as if the worst fears come true. The water is no longer clear, it is obviously polluted, and not quite unexpectedly you can see oil stains on the water. The fragile infrastructure of the floating islands is at risk. You have to imagine that these floating gardens were created by humans. They are used for planting vegetables and fruits. If they are destroyed, the livelihood of the sea dwellers is acutely endangered. And all this for the sake of the thousands of tourists now visiting the area.
I'm aware of the fact that I'm also part of the destruction brigade (which not only applies to the Inlé-Lake, but to numerous other beautiful places all over the world). We are looking for beauty, perhaps adventure or variety and don't realize what our actions mean for the environment and for the people.
I have to think about it. Which will be quite difficult though …
More goodbyes
And then we reach Nyaung Shweand I say Goodbye to Chris and Stefanie, take care, Sebastian. We will not meet again.
The heart becomes a bit heavy.
Nyaung Shwe
It seems that not only Inle Lake has changed, but also the once so peaceful and cozy Nyaung Shwe. I can remember leisurely bike rides, on roads without traffic, in a relaxed atmosphere.
That's all over now. Mass tourism has arrived. The main road is permanently congested, the air is hardly suitable to breathe. While 11 years ago there were a few vehicles on the road, today there are hundreds, thousands. Everywhere traffic jams, exhaust fumes, hectic, and in the middle of it - as trigger of the whole misery - the tourists. In droves, not only backpackers, but now also the representatives of mass tourism, giant cars that spit out whole carloads and let them loose on the city and the lake.
A few impressions from earlier times
Well, a lot has actually changed. To get an impression of what it looked like a few years ago, ie before the onslaught of mass tourism, here are a few impressions. You make my heart heavy ...
The Emerald Moon Hotel
The way to my hotel is much longer than described in Booking.com, and so I am quite exhausted when the Emerald Moon Hotel finally appears. A bungalow with all the marvels of modern hotels is waiting for me. Not surprisingly, I am already in a deep slumber at eight ...
P.S. Matching Song: Bob Seger and the Silver Bullet Band - Fire Lake
And here the journey continues ...
