Souped up soup
I didn’t get to sleep until around 5:30 this morning. We both woke just after 1pm and wandered to the train station in order to buy our sleeper train tickets for our trip to Chaing Mai in a couple of days time.
Having done so, we continued to soak up the city’s fumes until our legs could take no more, calling in at a very western, east london-esque coffee shop where we tried our first ‘Leo’. After a good half-hour of recuperation we exited only to find that we had strayed much further south than intended. We ended up jumping on the river ferry that dropped us off just north of Banglamphoo.
We made our way back towards our hostel, stopping off at a small restaurant that our trusty guidebook had recommended. Tiernan chose the fried duck with holy Basel leaves, while I went for the Tom Yam Koong (a red broth containing shrimps, chilli, lemon, bean sprouts and lots of other rooty vegetables). Both were wonderful, if a little spicy for our delicate western taste buds.
Later in the evening we headed out to the Koah Son Road (supposedly a hub of travellers and youth), only to find a street that could have been present in any Mediterranean party resort. “You guys are too young to sound so cynical and boring”, you may say. But the blaring chart hits from either side of the street and the Aussie ‘lads’ made us feel slightly depressed.
As Tiernan and I are won’t to do, we headed back to the same restaurant we luncheoned at for din dins. Stick to what you know right? (This doesn’t apply to you, Will. As once in a while it pays to deviate from the custom Tika Masala)