Inle Lake, Kalaw & Meiktila

hot and dusty, up and down

I stay in the only guesthouse in Thazi - run by a friendly family - and wake early to get a train east to Inle Lake, a major tourist spot in this neck of the woods - a vast expanse of placid water set among gorgeously hilly terrain where local fishermen use a unique one-legged rowing technique.

Most foreign visitors fly in to a small airport not too far away, but the train is more bike-friendly. It's a long, slow ride with numerous long stops at stations in the middle of nowhere, where hawkers walk the chaotic aisle and push things up to the open windows.

Once off the train at Shwe Nyaung station, which a sign states is 2,934 feet above sea level, and cycling along the narrow streets, it seems quite busy with backpacker types; in fact after the solitude of the past few days on Highway 1 it comes across as a bit too touristy.

There are touts hawking noisy motorized boat trips, which I instinctively pass on and instead cycle along a weaving walking trail by the lake's shoreline, soon finding a family with a canoe-like boat who agree to take me on a two-hour trip around some of the adjacent canals.

It seems certain the government doesn't have its greedy finger in their little pie. Bingo.

It's a sublime trip, floating along the reed-lined paths that link small communities of bamboo homes looming out of the water on teak stilts.

The woman doing the silent punting knows the most scenic spots and steadies the boat to allow me to take snaps.

The couple of hours fly by and I pay her more than she asks, but it's still a faction of what the motorboats charge.

My accommodation for two nights is another family affair, run by several sisters who don't have a set tariff: they simply say guests can pay what they feel is right, which is what I do.

Heading away from the lake, back to the 'main road'

The lake is at about 1,000 metres and evenings are cool, but once the sun appears the mercury rises and it's shorts and sun cream weather.

Unfortunately it's effectively the end of the road here - tourists are not allowed to venture much further than the next town (Tuanggyi), which is a shame as the mountains near the border with Thailand look very interesting, looming up as they do on the horizon.

Not to worry, the two-day ride back west towards the town of Thazi is super - virtually no traffic after passing the turnoff for the airport (named Heho) with the road undulating across the hilly terrain. In fact it becomes more and more rugged with each kilometre pedalled.

There's the odd small village with simple dwellings, but for the most part the surrounding countryside is deserted. The road is often dusty, with mere traces of what was once the tarmac surface.

It gets more basic after the former British hill station of Kalaw, a small town which is cool (in both senses of the word). I find an Indian restaurant, where a yummy banana and chocolate chapatti rounds off a great curry dinner.

The next morning there's a fast 32-kilometer descent towards Thazi... Fab!

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