Once on the plane in Chiang Mai heading back to Bangkok, I had to get past a guy & a lady to get to my seat.
The guy stood up and the lady took my bag while I got into my seat. As she passed it to me, she said "Hola!".
"Muchos gracias" I responded.
She looked at me "Hablas espanol?" she asked.
"Un poco" I told her.
Ha! This was so cool! Who would have thought I'd need my Spanish so quickly. Unfortunately, all my Spanish seemed to have fallen out of my head 'cause I could only make simple sentences and forgot the words for everything.
Then as she was telling me about her life, she mentioned she spoke French!
"Parlez vous francais?" I asked.
"Oui, et tu?".
"Oui, un petit peu." So then began an absolutely mishmashed conversation of French & Spanish. Well, from my side anyways. She at least stuck to one language per sentence.
I found out she & her husband owned a restaurant near Barcelona. Her sister had married a guy from India, and her son had travelled around Australia for a month but didn't really speak English and the guy on the other side of the aisle from us was a lawyer and spoke very good English! It was a lot of fun and both her and her husband were lovely. At the end of the flight I got their details and she told me to write. Her husband said to make sure to include that we met on the plane. Funny guy!
Okay, next stop was Adrian's office. I remembered how to get back there, but with my phone now dead, I'd have to get a pass up to his floor. They asked for ID at the front desk so I gave my passport. The lady took it and gave me a lift pass. My passport? No, I keep it and you can collect it when you come back.
All the alarms in my head started going off and as I took tentative steps away, every movie with lost passports started coming to me.
Nope! I went back and asked if I could leave something else? Driver's licence?
Anything with photo ID. Oh yeah, sure! Feel free to keep my driver's licence.
I headed up feeling much safer. After Adrian finished, we headed back towards the train & caught motorcycle taxis back to his home. Except due to the traffic and how late it was, he directed the bikes to travel along the pavement for the last two kilometres! Thank goodness we only saw one startled pedestrian but no one else.
Then it was time to get changed and head out to dinner. If Adrian hadn't been impressed with my choice of food earlier, he was even less impressed with my choice of lunch today. But my KFC wrap had this spicy sauce & it was really delicious! He was not convinced. Okay, well this is what I'm here for! Great food, so where are we going? He had in mind a place he eats at least once if not twice a week. Okay, done!
We caught a taxi this time & it dropped us off across the road from the restaurant. There was heavy traffic and we had to cross. As Adrian stepped out on the road without me, I quickly followed, thinking we were going to dash across the road, but no, he almost slowed down as we crossed. Are you trying to get me killed? No, apparently if you walk slow, it gives the cars time to see you. Uh huh!
Once inside, he asked what I wanted to eat? Aren't you the expert? Okay, how about grilled chicken and something that's like green papaya/mango salad but with carrots & some kind of dish with pork neck?
Umm...grilled chicken? Was he serious?
Well it's what they're famous for.
Oh okay, sure. I was completely dubious - I mean really! Grilled chicken? I've had it in Australia - bland, tasteless. Our meal arrived a short while later and it was just as I suspected! The thigh of a chicken, chopped up in five pieces. And it still had bones in it!
Those who know me, know that I don't like anything but fillets so this was going to be interesting!
Adrian then informed me that the dipping sauce at this place is the best he's had.
I looked at the puddle of brown goop in the dish. Sigh. Okay, here goes.
I cut half a piece, dipped it into the sauce, put it in my mouth...and OMG! It tasted absolutely delicious! Oh goodness! It was divine He was totally right! The sauce was amazing. Sweet, salty, tangy with chilli and coriander, and the chicken even tasted like chicken. It actually had some flavour of its own. It wasn't bland or dry or tough. It was just perfect. I expressed my delight.
Then tasting the carrot salad, which seemed heavily dressed in chilli. It was great! I didn't eat any of the chillies but the carrot in the dish made it so colourful and really fresh! We had sticky rice which Adrian dipped into the juice of the salad, but I wanted to dip everything into that chicken dipping sauce. It was so good. I took another piece and didn't even notice there were bones as I picked all the meat off.
Who was this person? Normally picking bones was such a chore, but right now it seemed like the most natural thing in the world!
Next, the pork neck dish. I was a bit dubious still, but Adrian had done well with the other two dishes so I took a piece. Umm...yeah, not really. I tried dipping it in the magic sauce, but even that couldn't save it for me. I let him know, and he said it wasn't as good as he was expecting. Phew! It meant our tastes were still on the same page!
After we'd finished I could so easily have ordered and shared another of the chicken dishes, but when Adrian encouraged me, I came to my senses and said, no more chicken, but what are we doing for dessert?
What did I want he asked?
Hmm...I couldn't believe how there were no English desserts even floating in my head. There was only one dessert befitting of such a meal - sticky rice with mango!
As awful as it still sounded, I'd had some at a Thai restaurant in Washington DC and it was surprisingly good.
Done! He said. And then after, I can take you to this jazz bar I know.
Jazz? Ugh! Visions of syncopated music and random notes appear in my head. Really? I'm trying to be open minded but he's making it really hard.
Okay...we jump into another taxi and head over to where there are food stalls everywhere. This place has the best sticky rice & mango he informs me. I want his job I decide, as it seems to consist solely of going to every eatery and trying food. We're seated at a dinky steel table atop a couple of wobbly plastic chairs.
All my doctor's warnings come back to me. I check with Adrian if it's really safe. I've only been sick a few times he informs me nonchalantly.
Gah! Not very reassuring! The sticky rice arrives and I look at it in trepidation. I take a teeny tiny bit and taste it. OMG! I know, you think I'd be over this amount of excitement over everything right? What can I say? The food tastes SO good! I have a piece of the mango and I almost swoon and fall off my chair. It is SO good, I inform Adrian. After every second mouthful. The sticky rice, the texture, the taste of the creamy coconut milk, punctuated, surprisingly, by the barest sprinkle of salty fried golden lentils. After we finish, I'm sure I could have ordered and eaten another three of those!
Okay, to the bar! It's got amazing lycheejitos he tells me.
Yes, but it's jazz I lament in my head.
We catch another cab to the jazz bar. It's a teeny tiny place almost like Chez Regine in Melbourne, except that it's got a second floor, but not that much more space up there. I already don't like it and I don't like the music. Thank goodness there's no space.
We walk along from it, and come across another place. It seems nice and has the most lovely jasmine smell from all the jasmine planted around the edge of the deck. Drink? We scan the menu & I see a lycheejito. Done!
Adrian seems to take longer and ends up ordering a beer. Both drinks come in ridiculously big & tall glasses. This is ONE drink? As we drink & chat, I realise the music there is really good and kind of eclectic. I look over and there's this young kid who looks like he's about 12 DJing there. As we listen, a piece comes on which I haven't heard for years, but recognise instantly.
I love this piece, I exclaim! This is jazz Adrian tells me. What? This piece - Take Five? Yup, and then proceeds to tell me about old jazz and new jazz.
Can we talk after this piece is over I interrupt?
Sure. I sway along feeling full, happy, content. After a while the music changes tempo and it's more modern stuff. We've almost finished our drinks.
You know what, I say. I want to really go dancing!
Okay, I know of a place says Adrian.
Of course he does! I could have said I want to go to an opium den and smoke a pipe while lying in a bath of yak's milk & rose oil while being serenaded by blind violinists and I would have still got that response.
I love that he's just so easy to do stuff with. Agreeable. That's a good word.
I finish the big lychee that I've been hoarding in my drink all this while and we hop into another cab.
I love all this cab hopping I say, makes me feel like I'm in a spy movie.
Yup, Adrian tells me, it makes things so much easier because they are so cheap! The cab driver we get is a real chatty fellow and I tune out of the conversation. After a while Adrian informs me they've been talking about prostitutes. Of course they have.
We arrive at Adrian's choice of venue. Oh my goodness! There's a lift that goes upstairs from the ground floor and it opens up to a kind of rooftop balconyesque area, followed by the main dance area and bar under a huge chandelier, beyond which are the toilets and another dance area playing trance.
We both need to go to the bathroom and I can't help but laugh when I see the signs. There's a silhouette of a rooster for the boys and one of a cat for the girls. Hilarious! In the toilets are some absolutely stunning girls. This one Naomi Campbell lookalike, except with curly afro hair is particularly stunning. She walks out in front of me.
I catch up with Adrian & he informs me that she is a hooker, probably earning about $1,000 per night.
Gah! Then he proceeds to tell me that probably most of the girls there are the same.
Hmm...and we're here because? Well the music's good, no doubt, and the place is amazing and I really want to dance!!!!
We find an open spot, but I can tell quite quickly that it is going to be difficult 'cause there is so much to just SEE!
The girls are incredible - some for all the wrong reasons. We have cheerleaders, schoolgirls, dresses with so many panels cut out you wonder what's holding it together and girls who are very clear about what they're after.
Then, there are the guys. Older guys - probably mid to late forties. It is hilarious watching them trying to dance with the girls. Most seem to be from Europe.
We create a game of I spy a bald guy, which is fun until we spy a guy with moobs (man boobs). He's wearing a tight Where's Wally tshirt (ie. red & white stripes) with a full beard and lots of hair to boot. At first we are just too shocked & curious to stop staring, but he doesn't notice us.
Then he starts "dancing". I almost fall over in laughter. He stands with one hand in his pocket and head turned to the side, while shaking one knee. OMG! It's the funniest thing ever! The night continues like this. We dance until one of us is distracted, laugh, then dance again.
Inevitably, the music turns to crap that you can no longer dance to, so we leave. It is quite late after all, but thank goodness tomorrow is Saturday.
We fall into another cab and head home.
