I suppose you might think of it as the Venice of Inle Lake. Or at least one of them.

I can’t quite suppress a smile as I write this, but the village does have its fine, gilded place of worship, one of the few structures built on solid ground.

I don’t know the name of this village, but it seems to be something out of a fairy tale. Even the approach seems full of the promise of magic.

All of the village’s main roads and side streets are waterways.

The houses, too, have a certain fairy-tale quality, reflected on their stilts back into the water.

But as in so many places in Myanmar, I liked most just watching the people. Perhaps they enjoyed watching us, too.