Bangkok (1): The Old Royal Centre

Wat Pho, The Emerald Buddha and the Royal Palace

25/11/2012

Thailand

Arriving from Yangon

On the short flight from Yangon to Bangkok you are reminded to wind your watch forward half an hour. You also need to wind your mind forward sixty years, but no one tells you that.

Suvarnabhumi Airport is very much a 21st century experience. Myanmar markets itself as the Land of Gold, and lives up to its billing spectacularly; Thailand’s claim to be the Land of Smiles foundered on the stony faces of the immigration officials.

We took the fast, clean and efficient airport railway to the end of the line and transferred to the metro. Like the airport railway this runs not just above ground but above the streets, though calling it the ‘skytrain’ involves a little hyperbole. We needed to go one stop, but that involved lugging cases down and then up stairs to find the right entrance, the purchase of a ticket to the wrong station (though with a very similar name) and the purchase of the correct ticket after the discovery that ‘ticket offices’ only supply change for the ticket machines.

Bangkok at night

It was raining hard by the time we found our hotel. Faced with a range of accomodation with rooms from £20 a night to £200+ I had guessed that Bangkok would be similar to Hong Kong and selected an ‘aparthotel’ at £50 a night. For that in HK you get a small room. The window will give a view of next door’s wall a metre away, there will be too little space to stand beside your bed, you must lift the mattress to open the fridge and maybe sit sideways on the toilet. On the plus side, it will be clean, the fridge will work and there may even be something to watch on the television. For the same price in Bangkok our 17th floor apartment had two panoramic wall to ceiling windows, a spacious sitting room with large screen TV, a kitchenette with full sized fridge and a separate bedroom.

Bangkok in the morning (through our other window)

Eager to experience Bangkok’s famed street food, we looked at the rain, considered our tiredness and settled for the restaurant in the apartment complex. It was cheap and cheerful, though my clams with chili paste could have done with more chili. We retired to our room, drank the raspberry infused firewater I had bought in Heho Airport and watched a film.

26/11/2012

Into the Old Centre by Skytrain and Waterbus

The morning was warm but overcast as we boarded a crowded skytrain. Our destination was the Ko Ratanakosin district, the oldest part of the city and we intended taking the train to the river and then catching a waterbus. Although hardly a direct route, a trip along the Mae Nam Chao Phraya (The River of Kings) is considered one of the city’s top attractions, so it seemed a good plan.

A Boat on the River of Kings

The dock, right beside the stairs from the train, was a confusing place with several possible destinations. Busy locals knew exactly which of the long queues they wanted while tourists hovered uncertainly. We duly hovered, then swooped on what we hoped was the right queue.

The trip did not live up to its billing. Standing crammed together on a walkway, our views were limited and what we could see was hardly exciting. On the plus side the stops were clearly marked so we soon established we were on the right boat, it was a cheap way to travel and the sight of the conductor threading, cajoling and forcing her way through the crowd to collect the fares was an entertainment in itself.

The River of Kings, Bangkok

Wat Pho

We disembarked at Tha Tein, made our way through a bazaar and emerged on the main road opposite Wat Pho, one of the largest and oldest temples in Bangkok.

We disembarked through a market, Tha Tien, Bangkok

We found the ticket office, collected our ‘free’ bottles of water and set out to explore.

Constructed in the 1790s, though there had been an earlier temple in the site, Wat Pho is also a teaching institution with one of the oldest schools of Thai massage.

The sixteen gates are guarded by Chinese giants brought to Thailand as ballast in ships. One (not the one below!) is reputedly a likeness of Marco Polo (and you may believe that if you wish).

Guardian of the Gates, Wat Pho, Bangkok

Wat Pho Reclining Buddha

The southern part of the complex contains a working monastery, while the main attraction in the northern section is an enormous Reclining Buddha. At 46m long and 15m high it may be only half the size of the Chaukhtatgyi Buddha in Yangon but it is still big and is a much more elegant construction.

Reclining Buddha, Wat Pho, Bangkok

The head is serene and beautiful, whereas Chaukhtatgyi’s is reminiscent of Lily Savage.

Head of the Reclining Buddha, Wat Pho, Bangkok

On the feet, as always, are the 108 attributes of the Buddha….

The 108 attributes on the sole of Buddha's foot, Reclining Buddha, Wat Pho, Bangkok

…while around the walls are paintings depicting the life of the Buddha.

One of the paintings by the Reclining Buddha, Wat Pho, Bangkok

A Plethora of Buddha Images and Stupas

As well as the reclining Buddha there are four main halls, one central shrine,

Central Shrine, Wat Pho, Bangkok

....numerous courtyards,

Courtyard full of Buddhas, Wat Pho, Bangkok

.....several hundred Buddha images....

Assorted Buddhas, Wat Pho, Bangkok

... and 92 stupas, the small ones containing the ashes of members of the royal family,

Small Stupas, Wat Pho, Bangkok

....the larger ones (allegedly) ashes of the Buddha himself.

Large Stupa, Wat Pho, Bangkok

If we preferred the Wat Pho Reclining Buddha to its Burmese equivalent, we were less taken with the stupas. In Myanmar the best stupas are gently rounded yet still manage to soar into the sky, while these are angular and fussy.

Wat Pho, Bangkok

Rehydration and Lunch

After a couple of hours we felt the need for refreshment. Outside the temple it was easy to find a pavement café. We lingered over a beer and then it was lunchtime so we ordered more beer and a plate of tempura chicken and vegetables with the inevitable sweet chilli dip. Lynne liked the notice in the Ladies toilet – so here it so for your amusement.

Notice in ladies' toilet, Restaurant near Wat Pho, Bangkok

The Royal Palace and Wat Phra Kaew

The Royal Palace and Wat Phra Kaew are next door to Wat Pho, but they are surrounded by a high wall and the entrance is a lengthy walk along a road crammed with stalls selling tee-shirts and shoes, religious objects and coins, watches (old, new and ‘copy’), scarves and jewellery and much more beside.

Wat Phra Kaew: The Emerald Buddha

Wat Phra Kaew (The Emerald Buddha Temple) was built in 1782 by King Rama I, the founder of the Chakri dynasty - the present King Bhumibol (Rama IX) is the 9th Chakri monarch - to enshrine the eponymous Buddha.

The 45cm tall statue was carved from a single piece of nephrite jade - ‘emerald’ refers only to its colour - and is the most venerated Buddha image in Thailand. It may be touched only by the king, who changes its gold vestments three times a year.

Lynne at Wat Phra Kaew, Bangkok

According to tradition it was made at Patna in 43BC and found its way to Thailand via Sri Lanka and Cambodia. [see the 2015 post The Story of the Emerald Buddha] The style of carving, however, suggests it was made in the 14th century in the Kingdom of Lanna in what is now northern Thailand. There is good evidence that it was taken to Luang Prabang in Laos in 1552 and thence to Vientiane, the new Lao capital, in 1564. The future Rama I of Thailand sacked Vientiane in 1779 and brought the Buddha to Bangkok.

Wat Phra Kaew, Bangkok

You may sit on the floor inside the hall (provided you keep the soles of your feet pointing away from the statue) and pay your respects - which we did for a while - but taking a photograph would have brought down the wrath of god, not to mention the security guards. From outside, though, there is no restriction.

The Emerald Buddha, Wat Phra Kaew , Bangkok

The Royal Palace

The extensive Grand Palace fills the rest of the compound. It was the home of the Thai monarchs until Rama V built Dusit Palace at the start of the 20th century and is still used for major state occasions including coronations - though it is 60 years since Thailand last had one of those.

We wandered round the various halls, and viewed the state apartments some of which are built in a vaguely European style….

Grand Palace, Bangkok

…. and some of which are not.

Grand Palace, Bangkok

After a couple of hours Lynne was flagging and sat in the shade while I went to see the extensive collection of armour and armaments in the Emerald Buddha Museum.

Back to our Hotel

After that I was flagging too. We paused for a refreshing coconut before returning to our hotel. The boat was even more crowded than in the morning, packed with workers, schoolchildren, tourists, families with small children and a whole scout troop.

A refreshing coconut, Bangkok

Bangkok's Famous Street Food: Rain Stops Play

Later, showered and rejuvenated we strode out into the warm night to sample Bangkok’s famed street food. Even along the four-lane racetrack outside the hotel there was plenty of choice. As we arrived it started raining and despite the stall holders’ hurried work with umbrellas and tarpaulins we judged it better to retreat into a small restaurant. The staff were friendly, the beer was cold, Lynne’s fried grouper with mango was good and my chicken with coconut and lemongrass was well-flavoured but I would have sacrificed some of the sauce for a bit more chicken – I suppose you get what you pay for.

The rain had stopped by the time we had finished eating and we strolled a little way down the road to the bridge over the Khlong Saen Saeb, Bangkok’s last remaining canal.

Myanmar, Land of Gold

 

1 Arriving in Yangon (or is that Rangoon?), the former capital of Burma (or should that be Myanmar?)

2 Yangon, A Reclining Buddha and the Shwedagon Pagoda

3 Across the Yangon River to Dala

4 Bagan (1): Temples, Lacquerware and more Temples

5 Bagan (2): Yet more Temples and a Drift Down the Irrawaddy

Interlude: The Road to Mandalay (Kipling's Version)

6 The Road to Mandalay (Our Version)

7 Mandalay and Amarapura

8 U Bein's Bridge, Sagaing and Inwa

9 Pindaya Heho and the 5-day Market,
10 Inle Lake (1), Stilt Houses, Fishermen and Non-Swimming Buddhas
11 Inle Lake (2) Watching People Work and a Myanmar Winery

 +

Bangkok (1) The Old Royal Centre

Bangkok (2) Jim Thompson's House and Other Shrines

Inle Lake (2), Watching People Work and a Myanmar Winery: Myanmar/Burma Part 11

Industrious People around the Lake and Early Morning Wine Bibbing

23/11/2012

Myanmar

Lake Inle in the Morning, Fishermen and Mist

In the morning the lake had vanished. By the time we had eaten breakfast the mist was beginning to relent and the light on the reappearing lake promised another fine warm day – once it got going.

The morning mist begins to lift, Lake Inle

Sue and the boatman arrived at 9 and we set off towards Inthein, a village a kilometre or two up a creek which empties into the lake near the stilt villages we had visited yesterday.

The fisherman had been out since sunrise. They were far too picturesque to ignore and although I wrote about them in yesterday’s post, I cannot resist inserting another photo.....

Another fisherman, Lake Inle

....or two.

Yet another fisherman, Lake Inle

Up the Creek to Inthein

Our canoe skipped across the placid surface of the lake and made good progress up the creek despite the fast-flowing current. The vegetation grows thickly on either side and the Lonely Plant describes the trip as being reminiscent of Apocalypse Now – a spell broken by the tourist sanctuary of Inthein. They are over-dramatising, life beside the creek looks far from threatening - and we passed a craft village en route.

Life beside the creek on the way to Inthein

Inthein

At Inthein we disembarked through a crowd of tourist stalls and strolled through the village passing the school, several cafés and the empty market place (Inthein is another of the homes of the 5-day Market). We crossed a bridge below which people were beating their washing clean on the rocks, and entered another long arcade of stalls selling scarves, blankets, ornaments, carved wooden panels (which looked like they had come from monasteries), tee-shirts and assorted religious objects, including, slightly bizarrely, boxed sets of nativity characters. The manufacturers had evidently skimped on their homework - surely pigs were rarely present in Jewish stables!

Arriving at Inthein

Finally breaking free from the commercial world we entered an area covered with ancient stupas, many in poor repair.

Sue, Lynne and an ancient, if dilapidated, stupa, Inthein

It is believed that Alaung Sithu, a 12th century King of the Bagan Empire began the stupa building here as he did in many other parts of his empire. Some years ago the government started knocking down the most dilapidated (and often oldest) and rebuilding them with modern materials. Fortunately pressure from better informed tourists stopped this vandalism and they are now committed to stabilising and, where appropriate, restoring rather than rebuilding. There is obviously much work to do.

A rebuilt stupa among the old and dilapidated, Inthein

The stupas climb a gentle hill topped by a small temple. Those at the base are the oldest but they have been added to over time and around the temple there are many new stupas – not rebuilds this time, but genuine new stupas.

New stupas at the top of the hill, Inthein

The temple was nothing special as Myanmar temples go…..

In the temple at the top of the hill, Inthein

... though it is pleasantly situated, and it is easy to see why Alaung Sithu was taken with the natural beauty of the place.

Hibiscus, Inthein, (for Siân, who appreciates a picture of botanical interest)

We walked back through the forest.

Following Sue back through the forest, Inthein

Watched from a distance by his mother and grandmother a chubby, naked three-year-old was playing beside a stream. Using the red bowl to water his slide and keep the mud slippy he was happily whizzing down and climbing back up so he could whizz down again.

Fun on a mud-slide, Inthein

In the village we paused for a cup of tea at a café recently opened by a friend of Sue. We only wanted a drink but we read the menu, and a depressing sight it was, too: pasta, pizza, French fries, Spanish omelettes, the lowest common denominators of tourist taste.

Watching People Work

Downstream to a Sliversmith

Back on the boat we headed downstream and stopped at a silversmith’s. It is always good to watch craftsmen at work and we would have liked a closer look at the finished products but high pressure sales staff made browsing difficult.

Making silver jewellery near Inthein

Lunch at the Golden Moon

Returning to the lake we found ourselves in a busy district with lots of buildings and many boats whizzing between them. We paused for lunch at the Golden Moon Restaurant which was packed with tourists. Lynne had Shan Noodle Soup, Sue had a lake fish with watercress and I did not have hot and sour noodle soup with pork as my order became lost in the busyness of the restaurant. A second attempt at ordering proved more fruitful. On leaving we paused to inspect the wine rack displaying half a dozen offerings from a local winery. Unlike Vietnamese wines which are made from grapes of unspecified varieties [I have since learned they are made from Cardinal grapes - a variety better suited to producing table grapes and raisin] eked out with mulberry juice, this winery had invested in classic European vines like Shiraz and Sauvignon Blanc. I remained reluctant to pay £20 for a Myanmar wine, but Sue quietly noted our interest.

Busy, busy. Lake Inle

Lotus Weaving Workshop

Our next stop was at a silk and lotus weaving workshop. Silk is familiar stuff (see Hotan for the whole story) but we were unaware that fibre can be made from the versatile lotus plant. A smiling girl demonstrated how she scored and then gently broke the stalks, before easing the two sections apart. Between them appeared thin, glistening filaments which she twisted together to form a fibre. It looked easy done by an expert, but I suspect it is a great deal harder than it appears.

Teasing out fibres from lotus stalk, Lake Inle

The Blacksmith's

The blacksmith’s was a short boat ride away. One lad sat atop the bellows and pumped with two hands while a sweaty group of youths hammered away at red-hot iron. Some bare-footed and others in flip-flops they were blissfully ignorant of what we would regard as normal safety precautions, and would doubtless stay in their state of innocence until someone got hurt. All this activity was happening inside a scrum of tourists, but in contrast to the silversmith's no one was making an effort to sell the many artefacts lining the walls.

Working the red hot iron, Lake Inle

Cheroot Factory

Moving on to watch yet another group of workers, we stopped at a cheroot factory. Half a dozen girls sat cross-legged on the floor rolling cheroots so fast it was impossible to follow the process, though leaves were involved as were shreds of tobacco and a stick around which the finished article was formed. Sue was reluctant to be drawn on their ages, but they looked like they should still be in school. Their youthful, nimble fingers must make a thousand a day for their basic pay, making more allows them to earn bonuses. The girls looked serious and seemed unnaturally quiet as they concentrated on the task. Then a New Zealand couple brought in their toddler and provoked a rustle of conversation and an audible cooing.

Making cheroots, Lake Inle

And Finally Fishermen, Again

After a hard afternoon watching people work we returned to our hotel, pausing, yet again, to photograph the implausibly picturesque fisherman – though this chap has an outboard. The ‘chalets’ of our hotel are visible behind him

The very last Lake Inle fisherman photo. Promise.

Evening by Lake Inle

A newly arrived Japanese coach party had been assigned to the ‘chalets’ around ours. The walls were paper thin, and we could hear every word of the conversations on both sides, and parts of those from further away.

A dinner gong clanged and they all trooped off. We followed a little later, heading for the same restaurant as yesterday. It was not worth it, the food was still dull and it was busier today and the service struggled to cope. We drank beer, but they also offered local wine, again at around £20 a bottle. As yesterday the walk back through the moonlit forest made the whole evening worthwhile.

We returned to find the Japanese coach party singing campfire songs round a pile of blazing logs. They retired to bed a little after midnight – not all of them entirely sober – but settled down quickly. They left early the next morning, their alarm calls progressing down the line of chalets, though missing us out. It did not matter we had heard it anyway – not that we wanted an early start.

24/11/2012

The Red Mountain Winery

When Sue arrived she commented on our interest in the wine and suggested we might like to swap the morning programme for a visit to a winery. Sue’s attitude to being a guide – find out what interests the clients and react accordingly – was a pleasing contrast to her counterpart in Mandalay.

We took the boat back to Nyaungshwe, transferred to a car and drove to the Red Mountain Winery, which sits on a hillside a few kilometres out of town.

The Red Mountain Winery, Nyaungshwe

A girl showed us round and while we looked at some very new machinery and stainless steel fermentation vats, she told us the story of the winery. The owner is a local man who searched for jade in the rivers some 50 km north of here and found enough to make his fortune. He decided to spend his money on building a state of the art winery and employing a French winemaker.

Stainless steel vats, Red Mountain Winery, Nyaungshwe

Most of Myanmar is too hot, and the wet season too wet, for wine growing. Although the Inle Lake area has no winter – or not one we would recognise – the elevation means cool nights in January and February, which is harvest time here.

The grape varieties used have been selected after experimentation with the climate and soil type and in the tasting room we sampled four of their surprisingly large range of wines. 9.30 was a little earlier than I am used to drinking wine (honest) but they were only tasting sized samples.

Vineyards, Red Mountain Winery, Nyaungshwe

The sauvignon blanc was remarkable. Despite the hot climate they had retained the sauvignon’s clean acidity, but the fruit had gone missing. The rosé was as crisp and juicy as rosé can be, while the shiraz/tempranillo was dark and smoky with good fruit and tannins. I was impressed by the overall quality, only the Late Harvest – thin and lacking in sweetness – was a definite miss. I bought a bottle of the Rosé for 8000 Kyat (£6.40), prohibitively expensive for most locals, but reasonable for its quality by British supermarket standards. We shared it with friends after we returned home.

Shwe Yaunghwe Monastery

Our final stop before the airport was Shwe Yaunghwe Monastery. The short journey took a little longer than expected as we were held up trying to pass a cart transporting the largest pig I have ever seen.

Trying to overtake a pig on a cart, Nyaungshwe

The monastery was another old teak construction. Inside children were chanting sutras under the supervision of a monk – at least most were, but there was some inattention, even indiscipline going on in the back row.



Chanting sutras, Shwe Yaunghwe Monastery

All work stopped at the arrival of some special guests, saffron robed monks visiting from Thailand. Having disrupted the lessons they then posed obligingly in the unusual oval windows for the tourists outside.

Posing visitors, Shwe Yaunghwe Monastery

Back to Yangon

We flew back to Yangon and in the evening visited our favourite Shan restaurant and ate their excellent fried dumplings. Nearby a small stage had been set up and a monk of some importance arrived to give a speech. We stopped to watch and, as is the Burmese way, we were invited into the seating area and offered bottles of water. We declined, our limited (all right, non-existent) Burmese meant anything but a short stop was fruitless.

In late November we should not have been surprised to see a local shop gearing up for Christmas, though most of Yangon’s citizens have a very hazy idea as to what Christmas is. With darkness falling the temperature had dropped marginally below 30º and I suspect Father Christmas was a little warm in that big red suit.

Santa feeling a little overdressed for the climate, Yangon

The following morning, a final run at Scott’s Market provided us with some last minute presents before our flight to Bangkok.

Myanmar, Land of Gold

 

1 Arriving in Yangon (or is that Rangoon?), the former capital of Burma (or should that be Myanmar?)

2 Yangon, A Reclining Buddha and the Shwedagon Pagoda

3 Across the Yangon River to Dala

4 Bagan (1): Temples, Lacquerware and more Temples

5 Bagan (2): Yet more Temples and a Drift Down the Irrawaddy

Interlude: The Road to Mandalay (Kipling's Version)

6 The Road to Mandalay (Our Version)

7 Mandalay and Amarapura

8 U Bein's Bridge, Sagaing and Inwa

9 Pindaya Heho and the 5-day Market,

10 Inle Lake (1), Stilt Houses, Fishermen and Non-Swimming Buddhas

11 Inle Lake (2) Watching People Work and a Myanmar Winery

 

 +

 

Bangkok (1) The Old Royal Centre

Bangkok (2) Jim Thompson's House and Other Shrines

Inle Lake (1), Stilt Houses, Fishermen and Non-Swimming Buddhas: Myanmar/Burma Part 10

Fishing, Gardening and Living On and Around Lake Inle

Nyaungshwe: The Shortest of Visits

Myanmar

A short drive from Heho brought us to Nyaungshwe the main settlement on (or more accurately near) Lake Inle.

Nyaungshwe is a small town, and we found ourselves at the docks almost before we realised we had arrived. There was much frenetic activity and our cases were manhandled from car to water’s edge by unseen hands as we were led to a waiting boat.

Like most passenger boats on the lake it was a long canoe. Local people usually sit on the floor, but tourist boats have four seats set one in front of another while the boatman perches at the back beside his long tailed outboard, the propeller set so that its tip breaks the surface of the water - there is a lot of weed in the lake and nobody wants to get tangled in it.

Leaving the dock at Nyaungshwe

The Canal to Inle Lake

The town is at the end of a wide canal and we pottered down it for twenty minutes rounding rafts of water hyacinth and passing reed beds and stilt houses before we reached the lake itself. The houses are the homes of the Intha people, who live around, over and somtimes on the lake.

Stilt houses beside the canal from Nyaungshwe

Surrounded by green hills, Lake Inle is placid, shallow and a very pleasing pale blue.

Fishing on Inle Lake

Emerging onto the lake we found ourselves amid a cluster of fishermen. Intha fishermen use canoes smaller than the one we were in and lacking an outboard. They stand on the stern sometimes setting out nets in groups, sometimes using a single net like the one in the picture below.

Fisherman, Lake Inle

The boats are manoeuvred by means of a single paddle, which may be held in the hand for balance (as above), but when they row they use one leg, leaving both hands free for their nets. Somehow they seem to maintain hold of the paddle without actually grasping it. Their sense of balance is wonderful. Perched on one leg at the end of the boat they pull on their nets or push on their paddle without the slightest wobble. Sometimes the paddle becomes less of an implement for rowing and more an extension to their leg, and one with which they seem effortlessly able to walk on water. We watched them here and at various points on the lake over the next two days and every time we marvelled at how each fisherman was so at one with his boat and the water.

Almost walking on water, Lake Inle

At present they fish for real, and the man who came to show us his catch (and yes, he was wearing a Chelsea shirt) was merely being welcoming and friendly. Lake Inle has many tourists, and the numbers are growing; two or three lakeside resort hotels already exist, and several more are at the planning stage. The fishermen who happily pose for photos for nothing will soon realise they can make money from it, and indeed more money than they can out of fishing. Before long their fishing, like the cormorant fishermen on China’s Li River, will merely be a tourist attraction. That will be a sad day, but it is probably inevitable.

Part of the catch, Lake Inle

Ywama, a Village Literally 'on' the Lake

We scooted across the lake to the stilt villages of Ywama and Tha Lay......

Ywama, Lake Inle

Coming home from market, Ywama

.....with their floating gardens where they grow squash, tomatoes and flowers.

Through the floating gardens, Ywama, Lake Inle

Tha Lay, Mr Toe's Restaurant and Phaung Daw Oo Temple

We approached Phaung Daw Oo temple, but before our visit it seemed appropriate to pull up at the landing stage of Mr Toe’s restaurant.

Mr Toe's immediately on our left, Phaung Daw Oo straight ahead, Ywama, Lake Inle

All the restaurants around the lake are tourist oriented, but we had a pleasant place to sit overlooking the water and the temple, and the menu looked interesting. After a fried tofu starter we had ‘special’ lake fish with a tomato salad and smoked aubergine. We were not totally surprised to find the fish tasted distinctly muddy. Sue had a simpler spiced version which was better, the heat disguising the muddiness.

'Special Lake fish' Mr Toe's restaurant, Ywama, Lake Inle

It was a very short boat trip to the temple. On the landing stage men were selling books of gold leaf....

Outside Phaung Daw Oo Temple, Tha Lay, Lake Inle - I seem to have missed all the gold leaf salesmen!

...while inside the customers (and as at Mandalay it was men only) were queuing to apply the gold leaf to five small Buddhas statues. The little statues had been so covered that it was hard to discern their original shape.

Applying gold leaf to the Buddha images, Phaung Daw Oo Temple, Lake Inle

Moored next to the temple is the barge - reminiscent of a huge bath duck - on which the gilded Buddhas are taken on an annual parade around the lake. Some years ago it capsized, dumping the Buddhas into the water. Lake Inle is shallow and four were quickly recovered but the fifth was feared lost. A few days after the survivors were returned to the temple the fifth miraculously turned up on its own, covered in weed but otherwise undamaged. No doubt there are local people who believe the literal truth of this story, and that is how Sue told it. I did not ask what she believed.

The Buddhas' barge, Phaung Daw Oo Temple, Ywama, Lake Inle

Nga Phe (the Jumping Cat) Monastery

Back in the boat we re-crossed the villages.....

Travelling can be such hard work.

and the floating gardens.....

A floating gardener, Lake Inle

...to the Nga Phe Chaung Monastery, an impressive teak building with golden shrines and huge wooden pillars, better known as the ‘Jumping Cat Monastery’ after a monk trained the temple cats to jump through hoops to order. There are many videos on YouTube and this link is to just one of them. When the religious authorites found out what was happening, they put a stop to as, they said, monks had more important tasks than training cats.

Nga Phe Chaung, the (former) Jumping Cat Monastery, Lake Inle

There are no more jumping cats, but there were plenty of monks lounging around doing nothing. There are thousands of monks in Myanmar, some like those we met at Moe Goak, are impressive people doing important work, others, seem to lie around in the shade, occasionally fanning themselves but largely doing very little. All live off the generosity of their fellow citizens, but some seem more worthy of it than others.

Inside Nga Phe Chaung Monastery

There is a small market round the back and at one stall I found a tee-shirt that fitted, a rarity in Southeast Asia. I did not like the design and the woman largely dismantled her stall finding another one in that size. 10,000, she said when I had OKed the design. 10,000 Kyat is £8, which is a silly price, so I offered 2,000, which is equally silly. Searching under a pile of tee-shirts, she unearthed a card printed with a number grid – a bargaining aid for those without a common language. She pointed at 8,000. Without my glasses I am not good at counting 0s, so my next offer was 40,000. This caused some hilarity, but fortunately she did not hold me to it and we finally settled on 6,000 Kyat which seemed to make everybody happy.

Memorial Markers and Fishing Techniques on the Way to our Resort Hotel

We pottered back across the lake passing the memorial marker at the point where the golden barge had unfortunately tipped its precious cargo into the lake.

Memorial where the Buddha's barge capsized, Lake Inle

A little further on we encountered a group of fishermen vigorously slapping the water with their paddles to drive fish into their nets. In apparent defiance of the laws of physics none of them fell in.

Fishermen slapping the water with their paddles, Lake Inle

We arrived at our hotel, one of the growing number of resort hotels around the lake. The setting was magnificent and gardens were impressively well kept, but the cottages unfortunately reminded me of Butlin’s.

Arriving at our lakeside hotel, Lake Inle

Khaung Daing Village, Keepie-Uppie with a Rattan Ball and Moonshadows

We were shown to our chalet and while Lynne had a brief snooze, I went for a walk. Sue had said that Khaung Daing village was not far away and I thought I would take a look.

Leaving the hotel, I followed the road through a wood, passing the entrance to another lakeside hotel and a bamboo shack apparently used as a very basic bar. Twenty minutes later I reached the village. In the centre was a collection of gold painted stupas which ten days ago would have impressed me greatly, but now I knew that every village in Myanmar has something comparable, I had become blasé - to the extent of not even photographing them.

I did, though, photograph a group of boys playing keepie-uppie with a rattan football. This is a national sport in Myanmar, played wherever there is a space and a bit of free time. The same game is played in Vietnam, but there they use a sort of elongated shuttlecock.

Playing keepie-uppie with a rattan 'football', Khaung Daing, Lake Inle

I was on the point of turning back when I finally came across a smart new restaurant, obviously aimed at the tourist market. As this was the only alternative to the hotel restaurant - and hotel restaurants are almost invariably the best way of paying high prices for very moderate food - it seemed a good idea to eat here.

I walked back and in due course we both set out for Khaung Daing. It was a fair stroll through the hotel garden just to reach the gates which Lynne remarked looked a bit like the entrance to Jurassic Park. Darkness was settling over the wood outside, but we pressed on and duly reached the village. The restaurant had a few other customers, mainly westerners escaping from the big hotels, as we were. The food was not particularly good (pork with potatoes, rice, string beans and spring rolls with bananas in syrup to follow) nor was it particularly cheap.

Hotel gardens by Lake Inle

The walk back, though, was magical. Once out of the village there were no artificial lights, except for the headlight of a motorbike that puttered past, but we saw our way by the extraordinary brightness of the full moon, our every pace mimicked by our obedient moon shadows. The hotel gates were closed and bolted, and I did not fancy our chances of climbing over them, but a friendly security man popped up from somewhere to let us in, giving us the usual beaming Burmese smile.

Myanmar, Land of Gold

1 Arriving in Yangon (or is that Rangoon?), the former capital of Burma (or should that be Myanmar?)

2 Yangon, A Reclining Buddha and the Shwedagon Pagoda

3 Across the Yangon River to Dala

4 Bagan (1): Temples, Lacquerware and more Temples

5 Bagan (2): Yet more Temples and a Drift Down the Irrawaddy

Interlude: The Road to Mandalay (Kipling's Version)

6 The Road to Mandalay (Our Version)

7 Mandalay and Amarapura

8 U Bein's Bridge, Sagaing and Inwa

9 Pindaya Heho and the 5-day Market,
10 Inle Lake (1), Stilt Houses, Fishermen and Non-Swimming Buddhas
11 Inle Lake (2) Watching People Work and a Myanmar Winery

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Bangkok (1) The Old Royal Centre

Bangkok (2) Jim Thompson's House and Other Shrines