About time to leave the city for a while.
At half past seven are on 49th street
in addition to me Jerry the American and Paul who is English-Portuguese mix.
And the guide whose name sounds like Tibet. We cycle through Yangon morning
traffic, create some excitement in the market, look how people throw coconuts,
eat mohinga, take one boat and the other boat and cruise through some villages.
It is nice and quiet in the villages with a light breeze, no exhaust fumes and
a cloud covers the sun. The fun lasts for five hours. In the office of the
travel company we tactfully discuss tip-question with Jerry, he in Swedish, me
in Icelandic.
Francois is back in Yangon, I go to say hello. Somehow I feel the urge to explain why Iām a bit muddy. He is talkative and nice. I record a part of his business card collection.
Hotel has lost internet. But Victor has appeared in the country.
Francois is back in Yangon, I go to say hello. Somehow I feel the urge to explain why Iām a bit muddy. He is talkative and nice. I record a part of his business card collection.
Hotel has lost internet. But Victor has appeared in the country.
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