Poo.

Every now and then in Asia you sit down at a restaurant or bar, then realise a few minutes in that it's rather close to/suddenly downwind of an open sewer. Nasty.

This happened last night when we were at the Jungle Bar just up the road from our guest house. It didn't help that I was drinking a cocktail called "Diarrhoea" at the time (delicious though, more on that later).

I've not been able to shake the feeling that the smell has somehow permeated my skin, and have now showered and put on double doses of deodorant and perfume, with the added precaution of a slick of tiger balm under the nose as one does when sharing space with a dead body. You'd think I'd be used to it, but I am particularly bad at bluffing when a bad smell occurs to me. I tend to screw my nose up like a small child.

Never thought I'd say it, but I'm looking forward to getting back to Bangkok this evening where it's not quite so bad... at least all the yummy food smells cover up the bad ones there.