Lake pigs

The beautiful lakeside road meanders up the steep hills with sharp corners, reveals wide views of the lake and comes back down to flat bays with small villages. Over and over again! While the evening progresses we spot a promising path towards the beach and ask the smiling locals.
"Can we follow this narrow path with the car?"
"Yes."
"Does it lead down to the water?"
"Yes."
"Can we camp there?"
"Yes."
I'm not sure if they understood our questions and if they are aware of the consequences of their answers but we proceed, as threatened 😋.

Down at the waterline we find a small soccer pitch and ask again. The shy boys enthusiastically gesture that we cannot drive on the sand with the car and that sleeping here is not possible. Damn. As we are about to turn back, one of them is pushed forward by the others in our direction. He speask some English, yay! He wants to show us a different place for the night and jumps into the car while Sanda crawls onto the bed in the back. Just around the corner he guides us to a tiny bay with a perfectly flat spot at the beach, two log-boats and a mother pig with three black youngsters. Still, he insists that it is not a good idea to drive onto the sand with the car. The goal is so near! I check the track's condition and convince him of the contrary. Finally we build camp. Hurray!

We share some beers with our guide and the two fishermen around their boats. They disappear with the falling dark. While we prepare curry for dinner three small boys watch fascinatedly. And they eat our watermelon. And all our bananas.Les mer