Keep Yanging On
Today was as unpredictable as Yangon's meandering mean streets. After a breakfast of a banana and a sweet youtiao type thing I bypass advice and information on how to go to town by treading concrete. Walking is better because you see things you otherwise wouldn't, slash stop in supermarkets to ogle the curious items for half an hour only to end up buying a coke zero. I walked Insane Road to Pyay. At Shwedagon they didn't let me in because my skirt was above my ankles. I walked to town, leaving a trail of sweat, starving like a perspirant hungry snail. There was a lady selling tofu pockets stuffed with cabbage and crunchy pieces which is next-level exquisite. I stop at another stall that seems to be selling some kind of samosa ceviche. I took photos left right and centre but my camera is shit and stressing me out. When I reached Sule Paya I got some watermelon. An old brown man with funny eyes starts talking, asking where I'm from. I'm a bit wary but I trust...