‘See less, crib less’. Most travelers I came across didn’t have much to recommend Yangon for and on the contrary tried to down sell it. Don’t fall for it, the city is all about the streets. From boiled corn, veg filled dosai, oil-dripping egg fries to remnants of Britain, Rangoon can be a leisurely adventure for the non-checklist-traveler. And oh, mingalaba means hello in Burmese, something you will hear a million times a day, get used to saying it, sing it.
I checked out leaving the plump guy at the reception with a big smile and some of his business cards to market his hostel! I was pretty unsure whether to head to Yazd or Na’in or Varzaneh. I was anyway going to the first, 2nd was an option, the 3rd a spontaneous choice. So i got on the local bus heading to J Terminal from where inter city buses could be found for all 3.
Late and lazy start but with clear objectives unlike the previous day…Naqsh e Jahan square it was. With my water bottle loaded and backpack tightened to hug me close, i set off like a toddler.
Started a bit late and took the bus to visit Monar Jonban, the shaking minarets, outside the city. The bus cost 10K one way and the entrance, no surprises there…200k!!! And the worst part, you cant even get a glimpse of how it looked like, just in case you wanted to turn back and head elsewhere. In i went and man was it unimpressive. Every 90 minutes, a guy climbs up to one of the minarets, wedges himself between that and a wall and rocks it by pushing against his feet. You can hear some bells ring and see both the minarets shake, which fortunately coincided when i went. No doubt this was an architectural marvel no doubt. Then i contemplated going to the fire temple which was a few kilometres down the same road but decided against it as meant a 1.5 km climb from the foot. And my foot i was going to do that in the scorching heat, also the experience of the previous fire temple near Kashan dissuaded me.