Part 1: I paid a quick visit to Yangon in Myanmar (a country I only learned to pronounce after landing) and it was pretty cool

When I was a little girl I used to have a recurring dream about floating through a once magnificent but now derelict mansion in the middle of a hot, humid jungle. Vines creeped through the tall arched windows of the ballroom; broken Louis XVI chairs lined the walls and the rotting grand piano was home to a giant rock python. Later, I’d watch Great Expectations (the Gwyneth and Ethan version) and be all ‘yep, yep, yep’. My ‘dream’ pad looked a lot like that.

I hadn’t thought about ‘jungle mansion’ in years but the moment I arrived in Yangon (it used to be called Rangoon) it all came flooding back. I’m not saying the dream is a flashback to a past life in Myanmar (pronounced ‘mee-in-mar’, the new name for Burma) and Yangon is where it all went down. That would be wank-tastical deluxe. But it’s the closest I think I’ll ever get to a place where crumbling colonial meets the mystery of the East in a way that feels completely surreal.

And then there are the pagodas…

Anyway, I ended up in Yangon on a whim. I’d just finished up in Cambodia and was looking for a new place to go before heading back to Chiang Mai (in Thailand) which is now my ‘base’. I hit up all the peeps I’d met along the way to find out where they were and they were all in places I’d already been so when Totti, a German dude I’d met in Chiang Mai, said he’d be in Myanmar, a place I knew NOTHING about, that kind of sealed the deal. It would be a new place to explore and I’d at least know one person who could call my family if I got hit by a bus.

I arrived via a flight from Sean Penn (that’s what I call Phnom Penh in my head) to Yangon via a pit stop in Bangkok and, if I remember correctly, this cost just over a grand.

I had a long overnight connection at Bangkok’s DMK airport. This was my ‘bed’. I used a piece of underwear to ‘cuff’ myself to my suitcase, took a sleeping pill and blacked out under a beach towel.

Upon landing, I drew a bunch of kyat (pronounced ‘chat’) from the ATM and picked up a SIM card at Ooreedo kiosk, paying just R65 for 4,5GB of data that lasts an entire month. WTF?! I LOVE how cheap data is over here. We’re being ripped off in a big way back in South Africa. I was then approached by a super sweet dude who offered me a taxi ride to my hotel for R150 and, being too moeg to haggle, I hopped in and headed to Hotel Zia. (If I’d bargained I could have got a ride for R100.) I found Hotel Zia via* and can happily recommend it. I paid R200 per night for a double room with a private bathroom that included breakfast. The room wasn’t as luxe as what you could get for the same price in Chiang Mai (nice and clean with aircon, but no balcony, fridge, microwave or window) but compared to accommodation in Cape Town it was a steal.

This bed was very comfy, the free brekkie was great and the staff were absolutely divine.

The location was good too. It’s in the heart of down town Yangon where old meets new in a way that’s kind of crazy (more on that later), a few minute’s walk from very modern mall and a short (very cheap) taxi ride away from the King Kong of all Yangon tourist attractions – the Shwedagon Pagoda.

This is Shwedagon Pagoda. It’s huuuuge and I had to lie on my stomach to get this shot. More on that in another post.

When I first stepped out the hotel, I was surprised to realise that 90% (no joke!) of the shops in the street were either optometrists or selling sunglasses. Turns out ‘theme streets’ are a thing, and this made finding immediate variety frustrating but once you walk a few hundred metres things start to shake up a little.

The first thing that struck me about Yangon was how ‘contrasty’ it was, if that’s a word. One minute I was walking in an area so manicured it made me think of Disney World’s Epcot Centre and then the next I’d be in an incense-scented side street watching a barefoot woman crouch on the pavement to lop off the heads of fish while her kid played a game on his cell phone.

Thanks to years of British rule, Yangon’s architecture is VERY colonial.

While some areas where exclusively fancy, it felt like I was never more than a streets away from a bit of slum or, even more fascinating, something I started mentally referring to as ‘mixy-matchy’. An area where you’d spot a super-glossy chrome and glass Pizza Hut sitting right next door to a building so dilapidated and burned out-looking that, at first glance you think it’s condemned. But then you notice a string of washing is fluttering in a window.

I could’ve taken many far more beautiful piccies to illustrate my ‘contrasts’ point but my phone died early in the day.

If you’re South African like me, you might have the same reaction I did when you first hit a bit of slum. Your heart rate goes up. You’ll grip your bag tighter. You’ll start to wonder if you should turn back or hop in a taxi. Are you about to get mugged? Worse?! These are the things you think about when you’ve grown up in a country with one of the highest crime rates in the world, a place where poor = crime. Fortunately, after an initial panic, I soon realised I was safe and later felt like a bit of an asshole because Yangon peeps are next level lovely.

This is Junction City, the fancy mall near my hotel.

Every time someone approached me (and many did), it was because they were crazy curious. They wanted to know where I was from. To tell me how excited they were to have me in their country. To offer me a piece of whatever they were eating. To ask if they could snap a selfie of me holding their baby. To find out if I’d been to the bigger temples and give me lists of things not to miss. I soon came to realise it was perfectly safe to roam around by myself during the day. (Well, as safe as you can be. Freak stuff happens everywhere.) At night, however, I did feel better having a boy at my side but can’t tell you whether this is a necessary precaution or not. Like I said, my South African ‘poor = danger’ mentality is very entrenched and affects my perception.

It’s crazy to exit a mall like Junction City and, less than a minute later, be walking past structures just like this.

For the record, I wonder around Chiang Mai’s Old Town at night, all on my ace, as happy as a clam but that’s because it’s a touristy hub where every street is a string of well-lit buzzing restaurants and bars and there’s possibly even more foot traffic after dark than there is in the day. It’s not a crazy mish-mash like Yangon. For this reason, if you’re a ‘green’ female solo traveller don’t make Myanmar your first stop. Do Thailand first to get some training wheels. I also wouldn’t recommend it as ‘holiday’. Much like Cambodia, it’s more of an adventure. If you come here looking for an extremely well beaten path that’s made easy peasy for tourists you’re going to leave disappointed. It’s the kind of city I’d encourage someone who’s already in the East to consider as a super interesting ‘border hop’ to refresh a visa instead of doing the stock standard run into Laos.

That little blue restaurant, Sofaer & Co, is fantastic. I’ll chat about it in another post soon.

More observations? I was told that, in Myanmar, the men wear longyis, which are kind of like sarongs. I expected to spot a couple on the street but didn’t realise that literally 90% of the men are wearing skirts. It’s a great way to beat the heat, which is murderous, and I think it looks really, really cool. I enjoyed watching briefcase-toting men in beautifully tailored shirts and matching ties wearing matching longyis cross the street en masse. I’m sure we’ll get to a point where men in skirts becomes more of a vibe in the west and I look forward to that.

Totti rocking his longyi.

Not all but many of the women and children wear a beige paste on their face called thanaka. It’s made from bark an serves up a high sun protection. In Myanmar, a tan is deemed tacky. Pale is perfection. for this reason, I got a LOT of compliments. If you’re ever looking for a serious ego-boost, Yangon is where you’ll find it. While there were loads of Westerners at my hotel, I didn’t really spot many when walking around (outside of the big tourist attraction areas) and I kind of liked that. I got to roam around feeling a bit like a unicorn and was treated with curiosity, excitement and kindness. Totti, being so tall was a huge hit. Lots of people wanted to snap a piccie with him and he’d happily oblige.

Sun tan? As if!

Food-wise, I found Yangon very hit or miss and there’s no rhyme or reason. You can slip into a mom and pop shop (that looks like crap), get treated like gold and discover they serve the most delicious food but at a price so cheap wonder how they make profit. You can also step into the restaurant next door (that also looks like crap), marvel at how prices can be more than triple the price of its neighbor. You’ll order anyway, expecting something fab, but get given the dullest, most boring dish using very poor-quality meat. For this reason, Yangon is the kind of place where you really do need to pay attention to what peeps are saying on TripAdvisor as well as heed the advice from locals and other travels.

More than half a litre of beer for R12? Yes, please!

If you go to a supermarket, however, you’ll be amazed by how cheap things are. I popped into the Myanmar version of Spar in the fancy mall (the one with the Armani store) and couldn’t believe the prices. I felt like I was back in the 90s. Examples?

Coke Zero (large tin) R5
Nescafe ice coffee (small tin) R5
Tortilla chips R3
Sour cream R30 (because it’s imported)
Nail polish remover R5,50
Nail buffer R6
Garnier face wash R17

I’m still using this guy. It’s lasted for ages.

Anyway, this post is getting crazy long so let me stop here. In my next one I’ll chat about visiting the pagodas. I have so many beautiful piccies to show you, plus a crazy experience involving a blessing by a monk so keep an eye out for that in the next two days or so.

Love, love


*If you plan on booking a hotel, be it in South Africa or anywhere in the world, and use you can get 10% off by using my referral link. You get a discount, I get $15 off my next spot. Kiffness all round.




5 thoughts on “Part 1: I paid a quick visit to Yangon in Myanmar (a country I only learned to pronounce after landing) and it was pretty cool

  1. Leigh, you surely will have so many photos and posts to look back on one day at a life well lived. LOVE reading from you! On another note/beauty note, what do you use as your everyday hairbrush in general? I have fine hair like you, that gets greasy fast, so my hair is greasy by day 2. I feel like I have to keep washing my brush because on day 2 I am dragging my brush through oily hair. How do you deal with this? What is your brush of choice? Please give advice. Ciao bella!

    1. Glad you’re enjoying it! Sorry for the slow reply – been running around like a crazy person ;-P I’m a big fan of the Tangle Teezer but hate that it doesn’t have a handle so my new ride or die is The Wet Brush. It also detangles like a boss. (I packed light for my trip and it’s literally the only brush I took with me!) I’ve used them for a couple of years now. The one I’m using at present is fairly new. I got it Hairwharehouse online. They have loads of different versions but I like the original. Currently the best value is the ‘metallic’ limited edition one ‘cos it’s just R100 but the same size and has the exact same bristles as the ‘regular’ one. It just costs less. Check it out:

      1. Haha, Leigh, I can see you have been galivanting like a crazy person – so much fun! Thanks so much for suggesting this super cool brush to me. This is exactly what I need! Maybe I will buy two; one brush for day 1 hair. And one brush for day 2 and 3 hair. Actually, my hair is greasy by day two, but because I work from home, I wash it on night 3. Oh the struggles of a fine-haired gal. You the best!

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