Sweet tooth

Seven kilometers isn't a long way to walk but I could've done without the monsoon. I woke up yesterday with a toothache and decided it should be checked out before China. The dental clinic had told Sarah my appointment was at 9:00 a.m., but they're closed on Saturday so it was obviously a ruse to get her off the phone. I'd taken a taxi to the Ba Dinh district but decided to walk back.

No one walks in Asia if they have a bike, no one bikes if they have a scooter, and no one scoots if they can ride in a car. So I got a lot of stares and smiles on the street, and not just because of my coiffure. (The combination of wind and rain had turned me into the yellow-haired love child of Medusa and Shirley Temple.) Most people took shelter in their storefronts. There was a brisk trade in fifteen-cent disposable ponchos.

The storm abated just about the time I reached the train station, and I'm now the proud possessor of a soft sleeper seat on the 21:20 to Lao Cai. It was almost noon, and I celebrated with a late breakfast. Chocolate ice cream and coffee; don't tell my mom.