Saturday

I'm still feeling relatively wretched today. Most of the crappy illness has subsided, but I'm left with all the ick. I've finished the books I brought with me. I spend my days trying not to go to bed too early, but I'm still asleep before midnight. So then I'm awake for the complimentary breakfast buffet every morning. It's worth bragging about: the sushi is pretty good, the dried figs and kiwi are excellent, and there are usually about a dozen kinds of pastry. All this compliments the standards: cereals, phở bò, stir-fry, passion fruit juice, durian. It's a breakfast worth getting out of bed for. Also worth bragging about: the first-floor Japanese restaurant I frequent those evenings when I don't feel well enough to walk out into the heat. They have excellent sake. Between these gustatory daily milestones there's nothing very good on TV and nobody to talk to. Tonight, Sunshine was working rehearsals until almost nine pm. I was (barely) feeling up to meeting her at a restaurant about a kilometer down the beach. I waited until dark to walk there. The seaside is popular on Saturday night. Families barbecue together in the dark. Every few feet blankets are spread with concessions--sodas, dried squid, fruit. It was still very hot and humid, even at night. The place we were meeting, the Sailor's Club, is a confluence of three restaurant types: Indian, Italian, and Vietnamese Bar. The latter takes over after dark. We were served by space-suited Tiger Beer Girls while the nearly karaoke stylings of some nameless Filipino band blared too loudly to talk over. Partiers in attendance included the current Miss Universe and her entourage. It was excruciating; I wolfed my fried seafood sampler down in record time and begged to return to the hotel. [Cavin]