For a second I wish I was half of a couple. Having another person by my side would be so much more comfortable than having to eat, sleep and travel alone. Then I imagine that the other half is Ian and I shudder. I can hear his voice in my head, moaning about the coach journey, telling me what to wear, mocking our fellow travellers behind their backs and expecting me to laugh with him.

I thought I needed him once. But I don’t need him now.

As I board the coach I dive into the first available empty seat. Everyone is smiling and nodding at me. I can hear a lot of American accents as they shout their hellos with that relentless enthusiasm peculiar to their culture, and they all seem to know each other already. Of course. There was the traditional ‘meet and greet’ cocktail party last night, and it seems I was the only one who didn’t go.

I turn my attention to the view out of the window, to the teeming mass of people going about their daily lives, both men and women wearing the colourful long skirts that I read in my travel guide are called longyi. As we slowly weave our way through the traffic and leave the city, passing roadside stalls showing off their goods – spices, fruit, vegetables – I notice that everyone is smiling. I wonder about their lives, and how different they might be from my own.

My thoughts are interrupted as someone plonks himself down in the seat beside me. I turn, smiling, before realising it’s the man from the lobby last night.

‘Hi, I’m Paul,’ he says. It’s a friendly greeting, but his eyes are blank, expressionless, and I feel he’s weighing me up in some way that I don’t understand.

I can’t deal with him right now. What does he want? Is he going to hit on me? If so it’s going to be very embarrassing, so I give him an apologetic smile and close my eyes, explaining that the jet lag is getting to me. He stays for a while, then I feel movement and realise he has gone to sit with more amiable people.

Now that I’m alone, I can open my eyes and start enjoying the view again. I pull out my phone to take a few photographs, grateful that I won’t get a mobile signal while I’m in Myanmar unless I buy a local SIM card. And I have no intention of doing that. I feel safe, protected from Ian’s rancour.