Yangon (Rangoon), Myanmar (Burma)
After so many bus rides and so many boat rides, so many restless nights in a hot bungalow by the ocean, so many chance encounters, so many sweaty days spent sitting on the beach, so many evenings of seafood barbecue and peanut curry, so many Chang beers, the last two weeks in southern Thailand seems like one big blur. And now I’m sitting in Bangkok once again, killing time before boarding a flight to New Delhi later this evening.
There’s so much I want to tell you, tell my friends, tell my family. I want to tell you about how I’ve had bronchitis for over a month, and how I still cough so violently that I pulled muscles in my ribs. I want to tell you about that boy I met (or should I tell you about that other one?). I want to tell you about how I still think of Burma every day, that I think it would have been wise to have stayed longer there and had less time in the party islands (there’s only so much partying I am capable of). But how can I tell you, readers and friends, when there is always a new city to explore, a new beach to relax on, a new person to meet, a new dish to taste? All I can do is keep promising that I will not forget about this blog, and that I will try to update whenever I possibly can.
Off to India in a matter of hours. My emotions are all over the place.