Oh yeah, I know this common superstition: if you haven’t been to the North, then you haven’t had Thai food (c).

> repeat until 2 = 3.

This is a binary variable: it’s either true or false.

It’s true, guys, really true.

The countryside isn’t trashy. There’s bamboo/pomelo/avocado and no cheesy sea, dew in the morning and ice cold pools in the mountains. The streets aren’t packed with whores. Nope, you won’t be able to get a boy with license for 2000 Baht. Drugs are absolutely absent.

So what the fuck would you even do there, eh?!

Inhale.

Wait, and then exhale.

It’s terrific, extremely delicious. And it’s complicated.

With all due respect, in general, Thai food is either sweet or hot. In this case, it isn’t so: rather it’s more close to Cambodian cuisine – multilayered, even multilevel mixtures of spices, tastes and smells.

All the familiar dishes are reinvented, endowed with a legion of spices, mixed up, boiled and lightly stroked along the edges with a final note. It’s like visiting an opera (and a good one).

And it all keeps on playing, and rolling over your palate, and it’s still too early to sleep, but already dark, and you’re one on one with the hyper-taste. Only some night bird, unknown, restless and omnipresent like God, is yelling as usual:

«Kiiiirri-ll? Kiril-kiril-kirl, kiiir-ril!» reminding me of my ex-boyfriend:

“Oh, I was lost in thoughts, I’m sorry. No, your desserts aren’t tasty: crab cake and chicken green curry, are those good for dessert?”

“Certainly.”

“Ok then.”

These places are incredible, sort of electric. You cannot but come back.

Trust me.