Liverty Yangon (Rangoon)

... and a lot of rubbish. The afternoon was spent in the former Governor's Residence - one of the nicest hotels in town - enjoying a good lunch and a lazy afternoon by the pool with rose scent wafting across the water while struggling through Burmese Days.<br> <br>We continue to decimate the country's pomelo reserves and and also enjoyed our first glass of wine in about 5 weeks with dinner at the top French restaurant in town. Roll on Australia. <br>

... for dinner the first evening and we found ourselves, rather bizarrely, in a Burmese pizzeria talking with the owner who lived in Switzerland for 5 years and is food obsessed. He proudly offered us slices of his own Burmese parma ham &#8211; he specially bred the pigs, developed a source of Burmese salt and has three temperature and humidity controlled maturing rooms. Very good pizza too. His other store sells amazing breads and Burmese ...

... costs, entrance to some major sights etc, we avoided staying at government run hotels, trains and money changers.<br>Anyway enough of the essay, even though the government is rubbish the people were amazing and we made many friends along the way!<br><br>After flying into Yangon (you have to fly as land border crossings are extremely restricted) we were met by 2 blokes with massive smiles from a guest house in town. With a free lift from the airport and the best welcome I've had to any ...

... hotel 4 hours later............i didnt even try to pay them for that ride.........a few hugs and goodbye's later and they were gone ........we hadnt paid a penny.<br><br>We were back at the footie stadium under our own steam a couple of days later "our" team playing again .........stood in the stands my portugese mate asked a fan where he cold buy a Yardanarbon FC T-shirt..............1 minute later we are both being handed brand new shirts..........no time to try and pay ...

... water and peanuts for the bus ride. We freshened up a bit at the Inn and took a 45 min cab ride to the bus station. We were swarmed by people selling snacks, but we were all set. We immediately tossed our bags under the bus and as we were waiting I realized I forgot to get my sweat shirt, long pants and books. Dang! It is going to be a long 15 hours. Bill tried to retrieve them, but no luck. But, when we got on the bus, we saw our bags at the back and ...

Back for a day before I fly home. It feels sad to leave any country, but especially when i will be starting be starting my journey home. I don't have allot to do here, but I am told to go to the riverside, which is a short walk away, by a guy who has family here. Local advice is always the best. I am also told to go up Sakura Tower for great views of the city. Sounds like a plan. I am trying to access my email, but seems to ...

... to sing a Christmas song she had performed at her school holiday program. We reciprocated with a rousing version of Row-Row-Row Your Boat, the best we could come up with-sorry. The fans loved it and gave us an ovation. At 8:00pm we loaded up into the back of the tiny blue pickup truck with benches that served as a Mandalay taxi. Ronda jumped on the back of her uncle&#8217;s motorbike and disappeared into the black night (there is no public electricity in this ...

... the news of human rights violations to the outside world. Against the advice of the US and UK governments, my friend and I decided to travel to Burma (Myanmar). Getting visas was a challenge, as we had to lie on our applications and interview about what our jobs. No human rights advocates are allowed into the country, and a legal advisor for an anti-government organization in Cambodia would definitely be denied a visa. I said I was still teaching kindergarten ...

... sidewalk, indulging in the social phenomenon of eating street food with their family and friends. Food, some of which I've seen before, some being encountered for the first time: huge slices of watermelon, pineapple, papaya, gigantic fried crickets, greasy, deep fried samosas, some glistening straight from the boil, some dull in the way of minute-old fried street grub. Betelnut stalls, vendors weaving their way around, singing out to get someone, anyone to buy the something ...

... while. We had already spent a week in Yangon, far longer than most tourists stay in the city and longer than we had intended to stay upon our arrival, so even though we had enjoyed our volunteering, it was time to get going. We said goodbye at the monastery, checked out of our guesthouse (the wonder Motherland Inn 2), and boarded an overnight bus for Inle Lake on August 7. Since the only international flights are in and out of Yangon, we knew we would be back in not too long.