Spectacular, remote and hard to reach, Bhutan is an incredibly beautiful and beguiling place.

Cradled by the high peaks of the Himalayas, it's a country of massive temple fortresses and remote, richly decorated monasteries; snow-capped mountain peaks, clear rivers and misty valleys; ancient magnolia, rhododendron and pine forests; prayer flags on hillsides, roadside shrines and centuries-old rice terraces - tended by people who lead a way of life as they have done for generations, and intend to preserve it. Unlike neighbouring Tibet, Bhutan is culturally and artistically very much 'intact'.

If Myanmar felt cut-off from the rest of the world, Bhutan feels like a country that's consciously removed itself from it altogether, in a considered and positive way; here, men and women wear the national dress not just for special occasions but everyday, and they look exceedingly handsome and elegant in it. Thimphu, the capital city of 60,000 people, is the only one in the world without traffic lights.

But it's not a country looking backwards. You're just as likely to see a monk on a mobile phone, as you are a woman with a prayer wheel circling a chorten three-times for good luck in this deeply spiritual country. 

With nearly seventy per cent of the country still covered in virgin forests, a small and sparse population, a carefully managed tourism industry (which keeps visitor numbers down), fewer cars and no air traffic whatsoever, there is something very special, peaceful and almost unworldly about this little kingdom, the Land of the Thunder Dragon.

Outstanding guidance.

Throughout Myanmar I was fortunate in having superb local guides who were knowledgeable, friendly and spoke perfect English - a blessing given that we'd often have breakfast, lunch and dinner together! 

At each airport I was greeted by a new face, who I quickly got to know: in Yangon, friendly, open and candid Moe welcomed me (who'd learnt his English from the BBC World Service); quiet and thoughtful Sai showed me round Bagan; Mini Mimi, my very own Pocket Person, met me at Mandalay. What she lacked in height, she made up for in confidence and determined efficiency; finally, for Lake Inle and Kalaw, young and smart Twe Twe was my guide.

Our drivers were also great. (I don't take safe, considerate drivers for granted in Asia after an incident in Indonesia some years ago in which my local guide fell asleep at the wheel and nearly drove into a roadside water buffalo).

My guide's reliability and unstinting commitment to showing me the best of their country really helped make the trip. Time with them all was a pleasure, but I enjoyed Moe's company the most. Warm, smart and honest, he took me off the beaten track to local places where I got much more insight into Yangon's ways of life. 

I wish Moe all the best of luck. He's a great guy who I count as a friend. On my last day he and his super cute kids came to wave me off at Yangon Airport, above.

Water world.

I spent a few days at Inle Lake in Myanmar.

Surrounded on two sides by mountains, about 70,000 people live and work around, on, or in the water. Their adaption to this aquatic life is quite something and although the place is on the tourist map, local people go about their way of life as they have done for 600-years, which includes:

- Leg rowing: standing-up, fishermen balance on their long, low boats, rowing and steering with one leg. This keeps both hands free to work the nets and fish.

- Creating floating gardens: over centuries huge floating islands have been developed on which they grow crops - mainly tomatoes. They build them from weed harvested from the lake and anchor them to the lake floor with long bamboo sticks. This enables the 'land' to rise and fall with water levels and for them to row between to harvest crops.

Inle Lake is another Myanmar one-off.