Outstanding natural beauty doesn’t begin to describe the vast blue lake rimmed by distant hazy mountains. Too big to see the far shore, the mirror like surface was dotted by fishermen’s boats and their near perfect reflections. Our hotel, we knew was on the southern tip of the lake but we didn’t appreciate it was actually in the lake.  The mesmerising twenty kilometre boat trip down the lake was infinitely enhanced by a glorious sunset. Gleaming orange and golden wavelets announced our arrival at the lagoon of wooden huts on stilts where we would stay for the next few days.

Khun Htwe Nge didn’t speak much English, but he knew how to handle a boat and he definitely knew the lake and its people. It was endlessly fascinating to watch fishermen standing in light skiffs playing out a net with both hands whilst using a leg to paddle the boat with an oar.  You really need to see the photographs.

Water hyacinths floated in clumps, large and small, and drifted with the wind. In other countries these caused endless frustration as they clogged up canals and waterways. Here however, Khun explained, how they were corralled into islands and used to grow crops on. An amazing range of tomatoes, beans, cauliflower and other plants were nurtured on these huge floating farms pinned to the lake bed by arrays of long bamboo poles.

Shimmering over still waters the sheen from the full moon gleamed on the huge stupa of a lakeside pagoda. Next morning Khun dropped us off at the special pagoda market for the annual Full Moon Festival. Vast ranges of fruit, vegetables and flowers were being snapped up by people preparing for the parties, hospitality and festivities to come. Everyone was bright and cheerful and we shared many jokes and laughs with the locals.

That evening vast crowds gathered excitedly to see huge homemade fabric hot air balloons in the shape of animals swept aloft by vigorous open conflagrations hung precariously below the billowing canopies. Given that the surrounding houses were mostly wood and thatch the whole event seemed to totter on the verge of disaster.

Even from our lake based sanctuary loud, joyous but discordant music drifted across the surface until the early hours of our last morning. Dawn saw us joining the early morning fishermen wearing head torches out on the lake. Saying our farewells to Khun, we drove to the town on the road to Mandalay packed with riotously colourful festival floats and marching bands. True to their loyalties some were decorated with blue Chelsea towels, others declared an allegiance to Manchester United. That maybe explains why, when we said we were from Scotland everyone beamed broadly and exclaimed, “Ah Alex Ferguson!”

Pictures