“Veree beeyootiful?” The boatman calls out in a thick accent from the end of the boat. His face breaks into a huge grin, revealing teeth stained red from chewing betel nut. He raises a hand, brown from years spent as a guide and boatman in Inle Lake, and points towards the west. The sun is sinking slowly behind a range of periwinkle mountains, the sky fiery and vibrant. He turns off the engine, and the boat rotates lazily in place, giving us a 360-degree view of the lake.