Ten years ago, I started saving for Bora Bora. We could have probably gone earlier, but I wanted the proper holiday, the five-star experience, the end of the pontoon villa. From the word go, my Kiwi husband was not terribly impressed by Bora Bora, which for the next ten years he would refer to as Boring Boring. Needless to say, it annoyed me, but I ignored it. Every birthday and Christmas I asked for cash gifts. I started to save as much as I could while said Kiwi husband made fun of my obsession with the “end of the pontoon villa”. I think he would have driven me insane with his constant moaning about why anyone would need an “end of the pontoon villa” if we hadn’t gone to visit Lake Inle in Myanmar.
Lake Inle is one of the most beautiful places we visited on our travels and one of the treats is to stay in the then still very much affordable hotels that line the border of the lake. Each room in those hotels is a private little hut on stilts that extends into the lake and from where you can observe the famous fishermen of Myanmar that use their legs to paddle. That is, you can observe them if you are in the “end of the pontoon villa”. You won’t see them from the cheap room at the very start of the pontoon. Yes, the one next to the staff quarters and the one they all have to pass to get to that “end of the pontoon villa”!
In 2013, when we travelled to Myanmar, we innocently thought that we were one of a few to venture to this foreign country that for such a long time had been more or less closed to the public. I mean, they only got Coke Cola the year before, but now I wouldn’t be surprised if they have things like KFC or McDonald’s. So we travelled to Myanmar without making any reservations, thinking that we would easily find hotels, youth hostels and B and Bs. As I said earlier, at that point we still enjoyed roughing it and going where the wind would take us. However, we were not the only ones who had the bright idea of travelling to Myanmar and there was not a bed to be had in this country whose infrastructure was nowhere near ready to accommodate all the different nationalities that suddenly embarked in Mandalay or Rangoon. After driving for hours after our arrival in Mandalay in search of a room, we ended up sharing the last room to be had in this fascinating place with a German couple and some cockroaches. The following morning, after having stepped my way around the many tourists who were sleeping on the bare floor of the hotel corridor, I quickly went to the next travel agency and started booking ahead, as I was in no mood to find myself sharing another night with some weird strangers or worse, outside in the wilderness with no tent or sleeping bag.
Lake Inle, which was one of our main destinations, was solidly booked and the only room available was the last or first hut, depending how you see it, at the beginning of the pontoon. We took it and even though the people who passed it day and night got on our nerves with their constant chatter, it served its purpose, as my Kiwi husband finally understood that when one goes to Bora Bora, one must have the “end of the pontoon villa”.
(Guess, I won't have that problem though on Stewart Island will I? From what I understand there is no choice, but only one cabin and I'm hoping that comes with a view
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