by Debra Corbeil

Created on: April 12, 2009

It is a long way from anywhere as I sit uncomfortably in my cramped seat en route to Inle Lake from Bago Myanmar. It's three in the morning, I am exhausted, my body is aching and I have been either riding a bus or waiting to board one for the past 19 hours.
This lake had better be as "remarkably beautiful" as all of the guide books tell us because it is the most difficult travelling I have done in five months.

It is water festival time, the hottest time of the year, and everyone in the country is taking the bus to visit relatives and to see the sights for themselves.
We arrive in Bago, a town situated 80 km northeast of Yangon via Kyiakito in early afternoon to book our overnight bus to Inle Lake.
The tour operator eagerly takes our money, but fails to let us know that it is next to impossible to secure a seat during this busy season on such short notice. As the hours tick by, we wait impatiently for a spot to become available and soon realize that we had been duped. Overpaying for our ticket and promised good seat, he couldn't even guarantee us a bus. I became infuriated and demanded back my money. For some reason this worked (it had never worked for me before but I always seem to try it anyway) and from then on he worked feverishly to find us a way to our destination.
Our desperate proprietor flagged every coach that passed through this dusty town down until finally a driver agreed to take us.

It was an embarrassing experience as we boarded the bus. People were kicked out of their seats to make room for us. Not speaking their language, our protests fell on deaf ears and we were shown to our designated spots. I felt as though everyone on the bus would jump us once we fell asleep, but they was very friendly and nobody seemed to have any hard feelings towards us. I know that I wouldn't have acted in the same manner.

My husband Dave was given the worst seat possible as he soon learned, and the guilt of forcing a one legged man to a sit in the center aisle quickly wore off. He was stuck sitting on the engine at the back of the bus in the middle aisle. Every time the driver slammed on the brakes he went flying and the heat from below was unbearable.

The next 10 hours consisted of very loud variety shows a la "Laugh In" that I couldn't understand one word of, a bus so packed with luggage, that I was forced to stuff my 70L Backpack under my feet and temperatures so hot that it was difficult to breathe. Just as I was drifting off to the glorious escape of sleep, we stopped

• 1
• 2
• 3
• Next Page >>