Roof Tile Fried Squid | 081115


12 hours of uninterrupted unconsciousness completely cures me of my jet lag.

Swim in the quiet pool. Clean, wonderful, fresh, with palm trees on the horizon as the only green note in all the blue and white — the refreshing water, the neat house, the clear skies. Our next door neighbour baby appears on all fours in the slim opening between the curtains in their living room window. She smiles and waves at me. I wave back.

We take a walk in the beautiful golden hour light — down through the side streets with traders and chess players. Have dinner at a very authentic small restaurant (without any online presence) put together by seemingly random pieces of cardboard and metal. We sit in orange plastic chairs at a small rocky aluminium table, the only foreigners in the mainly outdoor establishment. There are smart French and Japanese restaurants in Thao Dien, but we smile proudly and happily at each other, ecstatic about how real and exciting this is: maybe we’ll get sick (we don’t) but the food is amazing: garlicky morning glory, tofu fried with lemongrass, egg fried rice, fresh herbs and lots of squids, okra, and aubergine grilled on a broken roof tile over a small fire on the table. A large can of Sapporo to share. Yum. Darkness falls as we’re munching.



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