Say your prayers

Yangon, or Rangoon as it was known in British colonial days, hovers somewhere between a mini-Bangkok and the emerging Ho Chi Minh City of 15 years ago. Typically Southeast Asian, it displays leprose colonial façades beside high-rises; lush vegetation next to potholed pavements; and enticing food markets alongside street kitchens dishing up fantastic fare. And, of course, there are rickshaws, weaving in and out of the windowless 1940s Chevrolet trucks which masquerade as buses with passengers dangling off the back. Then things change: the mobile phone network reaches no further than the border, and the internet - even Hotmail - is censored. Something is up.

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