Hsipaw is one of the towns in Myanmar which people come to specifically for trekking. We signed up with the group at the Mr Charles hotel, which is pretty cheap and definitely well organised. As Thijs had to fly out the next day, he signed up for a one day trek whilst Clara and I signed up for a two day. We had to say goodbye. When you’ve met someone at 4am to watch the sunrise, climbed waterfalls and toured half the country on 10 types of death-defying vehicle, saying goodbye isn’t easy. I’ll have to drop by Amsterdam sometime.

Day 1

So, Clara and I found ourselves with an Israeli couple and a pair of British lads, our companions for the next two days. Our guide for this trek was called Tun Tun – when guiding he adopts the name Tom Tom, which is damned reassuring when you’re walking in an area which is partially occupied by insurgent militants, and still addled with landmines. Let’s hope Tom Tom downloaded the latest map updates.

After about 15 minutes, one of the Brits turned back, as we were walking through rice paddies, and he felt at risk of Japanese Encephalitis. The real risks are practically zero, as the mosquitoes that carry it only come out at night (and by then we’d be way up into the mountains) but once it was in his head, he was convinced the only way was home.

Plodding on, the rain on the first day was torrential. Now, I have pretty good gear. Rain jacket, waterproof boots, rain cover for the rucksack, dry bags for everything in it, and heck I even put silica gel in the dry bags, just in case.
Still. I. Was. Soaked. Water ran under my hood, down the inside of my raincoat, around the back of my rucksack, through my trousers and into my comically squelchy waterproof boots, which seemed to be doing a frustratingly good job of keeping the water IN. I’d never even SEEN this volume of rainfall before, never mind going outside during it, never mind going on a two-day trek through it. I’d have been better off with shorts and a snorkel.
I did honestly try to capture some of the unique, wonderful views (and the nutters motorbiking their way down the sodden mud paths with streaming ponchos and pillion passengers balancing their mountain vegetables) but my “waterproof” phone misted up as if it hadn’t seen a dry day since May.

A quick stop at a hilltop café for eggs and biscuits did practically nothing for our soaked gear or morale, and the faff of having to take our shoes off probably just made things worse. Still, views of clouds pouring over the mountains as locals manually work the fields in the driving storms were incredible – they really added to the intensity of the experience.

Less than an hour’s climb later, with a couple of minor gaps in the rain, we found ourselves at the homestay village. We (totally vainly) hung everything up to dry, and changed into longyis, generously lent to us by the villagers. I remark this is the first time I’ve mentioned a longyi – the traditional leg garment of Myanmar! It’s basically a large tubular sheet, which you wrap and fold around yourself like a quick-release skirt. Very comfortable, quick to dry… and airy.

Sitting by the fire, a hot lunch of rice and locally grown vegetables was provided, and we gobbled this down with tea before, shattered, we piled into the sleeping quarters and napped for a couple of hours.

Rising for a quick explore, I discovered the home owner preparing dinner. She told me that all the food she cooks comes from her back garden, or the village market. The cucumber, onion, garlic and rice she was preparing all smelled brilliant from fresh, to bubbling, to ready.
They eat very little meat here, taking their protein from insects and nuts instead, and admittedly the food here was easily the best I’ve had in Myanmar. The adorable granddaughter of the homeowner also graced us with her presence – Clara’s clearly good with kids, so I just left her to it!:

Somebody at this point suggested that playing a game of Ring of Fire by firelight was a good idea.
Two beers and a bottle of Myanmar rum (very tasty alone, or with coke) later and I drew the final King – landing myself with a half pint of beer, rice wine and rum as a nightcap.
Still, the rain drove relentlessly on, lulling us to sleep with white noise as it pounded the metal roof of the bamboo hut.
As I dozed off, I decided I’m going to Malaysia next. I miss the sea.

Day 2

It must be the fresh air, or the water, or something, but I felt great this morning. Really, no sarcasm, absolutely great. We ate a warm rice breakfast with scrambled eggs and tea, and squidged into our wet gear, which admittedly wasn’t so great.
However, stepping outside, it wasn’t raining. So far, so good.

Shortly, there were enough breaks in the cloud for me to actually get my camera out!

As the morning went on, to our relief (and astonishment), the sun actually came out! We were at that point walking through a bamboo forest, up a path which appeared to be a redirected route for the river…

Breaking free of the forest and river paths, we were offered pleasant trekking through acres of corn fields. SO many corn fields. I have no idea what they do with all this corn. Tom Tom said it was fed to their animals, but I genuinely haven’t seen enough animals in Myanmar to warrant this amount of corn. Perhaps they export a lot to China…

Early afternoon I took some time to stop and capture a few shots of the butterflies and other interesting insects on the walk. I’ll combine these with a few shots from Inle Lake and put them all in a Feature on Burmese Critters. Mainly butterflies, because they actually sit still occasionally. I’ll update this post when it’s ready!

At one point we also stumbled across a lady knocking nectarine-like fruit from a tree outside her garden. We couldn’t resist a taste, and even Tom Tom enjoyed a couple!:

The sun had really started to come out by this point, and our gear was so wet it was essentially steaming us slowly, rather than drying out. We baked as we our way through more corn fields (seriously, where does all this corn GO?!):

It was around the two hour mark when we all decided that we’d just about managed as much as we could. We were on the verge of evaporating on the spot, when all of a sudden… we found this:

It looked even better up close!

This was exactly what we needed at this point, and we all gleefully stripped to our swimming shorts (I’d learned by now that you ALWAYS carry swimming shorts!) and dived in. It doesn’t look like much, but that water really stings the shoulders! Totally worth it:

And would you believe it, there was even a noodle stand at the waterfall. My day couldn’t really get any better from there.

With the sun out, totally refreshed and feeling great, we wandered down the hill a few minutes to our lift down the highway; a tuk-tuk chicken bus!

Upon returning to Hsipaw, Clara and I spent a little time trying to find a reputed nearby natural hot spring. After a couple of hours of running into dead ends, we heard from a local that the hot spring only arises in the dry season when the water table is low.

Oh well!

There’s always tomorrow to find new waterfalls, springs and jungle adventures. But until then… there’s always Myanmar rum and cards at the hostel.