Burma
I am in Yangon, formerly known as Rangoon, former capital of the country formerly known as Burma, now officially known as Myanmar. The capital was moved ten years ago to a city built at great cost where some government offices have moved but few people. It has an eight lane highway through it but few people, and remains a ghost town.
I went for a walk in the 100 degree heat to the covered market, with more than 1000 shops, many for jewellery, clothing and crafts. The streets are filled with shops as well, or independents such as the guy stirring his white plastic jug full of a fried crickets, or the girl doing pedicures. Many people put sunscreen made from a tree in big yellow splotches on their faces. Monks in reddish brown wraps are everywhere.
Back in the relief of air con in my hotel, I met my group and locals at our leader Pai. We set off for a noodle shop for dinner, costing $1.60 with a water bottle. We did a short walking tour on the way back through massive colonial style buildings from the early 1800s when the British were here. The main square is lined in barbed wire barricades that are set up during the frequent demonstrations here. There is a lot of construction going on in this expensive city, the largest in this country only open to tourists since 2010.
The next day very early we toured Shwedagon Pagoda, largest of all the Buddhist temples in the country and most vitiated site. The pagoda is covered in solid gold plating, donated by families who parade together through the area in their finest dress. The tiny thin women wear brightly coloured silk longyi with matching tops. There are shrines for the day of the week you were born, as a Friday I’m a rat.. I could have been a mythical creature, or a tiger, but I’m a rat. At the shrine you pour three cups of water over the Buddha figure.
Locals come here weekly, and there are few tourists, though more here than anywhere. They took pictures of us, being specially thrilled with the blond Scottish girl and the very white German guy in our group.
We drove a few hours in a private bus on the way to Golden Rock, a massive rock topped by a stupa (the tower atop a pagoda) balanced precariously on a cliff ledge. It is covered in gold leaf, and is said to have been balanced by a hair of Buddha placed in just the right spot. 
It’s the most important pilgrimage site in the country after Shwedagon. We
got into the backs of big trucks with benches taking the crowds up winding roads through the jungle to the top of the mountain. Our hotel at the top had its lobby at street level with rooms below, accessed by staircases leading down the mountain.
At the Golden Rock, we were another attraction for the locals and their cameras. The paths to the monument gave fantastic views of this weirdly balanced boulder. Men can cross a bridge to touch the rock (women are banned from sacred spots). Burmese families were setting up mini camping spots for spending the night.
In the morning mists hundreds of people were streaming in to the areas as we left for our roller coaster ride down the hill in the open trucks,
and a bus ride to Bago, another former capital city where we saw a massive reclining Buddha, painted in pastel colours.
We returned to Yangon airport, where we took a short flight to the northern city of Mandalay.