After months in Yangon, a three-day weekend in Myanmar’s southern port town of Myeik felt like stepping into a slower, salt-air world. The pace softened, the horizon opened, and life seemed to follow the tides rather than traffic.

Getting there was its own Myanmar quirk: flights within the country often cost more than hopping between major Southeast Asian cities. But as we descended over mangrove creeks and the island-speckled Andaman Sea, the journey already felt worthwhile. Myeik is one of Myanmar’s most scenic corners—and among its least visited.

The biggest change from Yangon was space. Myeik stretches along a working harbor where fishing boats crowd the water and markets overflow with fresh seafood. Sea breezes replace the trapped urban heat, and evenings settle into a coastal calm that Yangon rarely finds.

It’s a place for simple rhythms: harbor walks, waterfront meals, and long looks toward the archipelago offshore. Even a short stay resets you.

What stayed with us most was the friendliness. Myanmar is famously welcoming, but in Myeik it felt especially easy and genuine.

Part of it must have been our small group contained the only foreigners Myeik has had visit in a while. Myanmar is not very touristed for obvious reasons, but it still is common to see an expat or two walking around Yangon day to day. The same could not be said for Myeik. Everywhere we went, we were stared at as if we were the first foreigners these people had seen, and in many instances, people asked if they could take a photo with us. Throughout, everyone was so incredibly friendly and genuine, marking a consistent theme across my travels in Myanmar.

Myeik’s proximity to Thailand shows up quickly in food and daily life. Restaurant menus leaned Thai-style: bright seafood salads, herb-heavy curries, grilled fish with chili dips. Flavors felt sharper and fresher than we often find in Yangon.

Even the grocery stores told the same story. Shelves carried Thai snacks, sauces, and household goods rarely seen in central Myanmar. For anyone used to Yangon’s patchy retail supply, Myeik’s stores were surprisingly well stocked, a quiet benefit of being near the border. It felt strange loading our luggage for the return trip to Yangon with goodies because a smaller town on the periphery of the country was better supplied than Myanmar’s bustling metropolis.

Three days passed quickly. Returning to Yangon’s density and noise, Myeik already felt far away: sea air, harbor light, Thai-spiced seafood, and easy smiles.

For anyone living in Myanmar, it’s a special kind of getaway, coastal, gentle, and refreshingly different. It’s weird to think that just 60 miles away, bustling Thai beach resorts are overflowing with Westerners in what feels like a completely different world. It’s a reminder of the type of revenue and tourism places like Myeik likely lost out on because of the coup, but also a reminder that even in a complicated country, places of warmth and beauty endure unmolested. -Nick