When I first booked my ticket to Myanmar, I had planned on going surfing in one of the towns in the southern part of Myanmar, but unfortunately, the roads were closed, so that left me with few options, but to cut my trip short. Thanks to the complete lack of demand for air tickets, thankfully, changing my ticket at the SilkAir office was not too costly, and just involved a simple change fee.
Like its counterpart in Bagan, the Yangon International Airport seemed really out of place relative to Yangon. While Yangon street life was characterized by all those private generators locked up, to ensure a steady supply of electricity in a city that was all but abandoned by its government, the Yangon International Airport was a very modern, white-tiled, glass-paneled facility. Yangon was a very strange place. I could see flashes if the glorious 70s (in my imagination), and how it was simply frozen in time, because of political strife tearing apart a country. I do hope that the political situation settles, so its citizens can have a better life.
It wasn’t too interesting, but I had my lunch here, and washed down my lunch with my first Myanmar beer. It was a pretty light beer, and served in a frosty mug, I can’t complain.
Downtown Yangon in its heyday