Naypyidaw — also spelt Nay Pyi Taw, 'abode of kings' — is Myanmar's purpose-built capital, conjured out of scrubland in the centre of the country. In November 2005 the military government abruptly announced it was moving the seat of power here from Yangon, and convoys of civil servants were ordered to relocate within days to a city that barely existed. The result is one of the strangest capitals on earth.
Everything is built on a giant, deliberate scale. Twenty-lane highways run dead straight and almost empty between roundabouts; the city is so spread out it is divided into zones for ministries, hotels, military and residences, with vast distances and manicured verges in between. Photographs of the eerily traffic-free boulevards have made Naypyidaw a byword for an over-planned, under-populated capital. The official population runs to around a million, but it never feels remotely that busy.
The set-piece sight is the Uppatasanti Pagoda, a near-replica of Yangon's golden Shwedagon, standing almost as tall and far quieter — you can often have it nearly to yourself. Elsewhere there are landscaped gardens, a safari park and zoo, fountains, and the enormous parliamentary complex, which visitors cannot enter. It is a city to observe rather than to fall in love with: a monument to a decision, more than a place that grew.
Most travellers only pass through, if at all — Myanmar's tourist circuit runs through Yangon, Bagan, Mandalay and Inle Lake, not here. Given the country's ongoing conflict and instability, check travel advisories carefully before any visit, and treat Naypyidaw as the curiosity it is: a capital built by decree, waiting for a population to fill it.