Middle-aged flash packers

For those of you who are worried we are all lying in hospital beds, hooked up to intravenous drips, we are fine. Thanks for your concern. And messages wishing us well. Not.

I’ll put it out there straight away, I’m not bowled over by Yangon. Just the drive from the airport to our hotel was a very different beast from Mandalay. Mainly cars, hardly any scooters, a sense of a bigger, more anonymous city life.

Our hotel, the Pan Pacific, is the most sophisticated we have stayed in so far. And it has a proper shopping mall! Both of these things I’m enjoying. But our walk to and from Kandawgyi Park (the park was very disappointing by the way) showcased a great disparity between rich and poor. We walked down one road with high rises on the right and slums on the left. The people on the left did not look happy. A kindly local walked along with us to the end of the road. I might be wrong but I think he was concerned for us.

For dinner, we went round the corner to “Indian Hut”, a small but very popular curry house. For sometime, I was the only woman in there. Food was good though.

Today we visited Shwedagon pagoda. This is absolutely the last pagoda I’m going to step foot in. It is a good one however . So good we had to pay a fiver each and Steve and Nik had to wear Longyis. Worth it just for that.

The poverty here in Yangon makes the people on Mandalay hill look like millionaires. Families living in the tiniest shacks. Today I saw a pregnant lady and her child sleeping on a seat at the station. I’m pretty sure she was living there. Meanwhile the expensive apartments are being built at a rate and the ex pats drive fancy cars. Feels like a city that is growing fast but leaving the poor behind. On the plus side, education is now free up to and including secondary school. Let’s hope that brings opportunities for those who can take them.

And now for a different subject. Selfies in/by the pool. Now, I have nothing against the odd photo being taken, you look nice in a bikini, of course you want to show it off. One day you might not be so trim and a photo would be a nice memory of when you didn’t have a roly poly tummy.

But please, I don’t want to watch your gymnastic poses at the side of the pool when I’m having a swim. Neither am I interested in how many clothes you own as you parade up and down while your sychophantic friend takes innumerable pictures of you in ridiculous positions. You are vacuous in the extreme and quite frankly please confine your narcissism to the privacy of your bedroom rather than where us less perfect specimens are just trying to catch a bit of sun. Spitefully, I can’t wait for you to get old.

And that my dears is Yangon.

Looking forward to the beach. I’m perfecting my yoga poses as we speak.