The Last Supper

The bags are mostly packed, the Netflix movies are downloaded, the kindle is ready to load, and we have headed out for our last supper.

The first stop is at the place at the end of our street. It is always packed with Vietnamese people, all seeming to be eating the same thing. We get there, and squeeze onto the end of the communal table.

There are 4 options on the menu: noodle type A, noodle type B, and whether you want your noodles dry or wet. The toppings are identical. I point to the girl next to me and order what she had. Its noodle type B and dry. Michael goes for noodle type A and wet.

Turns out, this is the same soup as I had in Hoi An. Hu Tien. My number one. My baby girl. This version is delish. I pour my broth in and get to work. Baby girl is supposed to have beef heart in her, but I can't see anything close to this and assume they meant something else. The quail eggs are succulent. The broth, eye rolling. This one even has mince! It's wave after wave of bliss. And only 55k a bowl. Bargain! Michael loves his. His noodles are rice based. Delicate. Soft. Supple. A great final pick.

Then, as we get to the hotel, Michael asks if we can get dessert. He went and got a hot stone massage today whilst I was gallivanting and in getting lost trying to find the hotel, stumbled on an "amazing looking dessert and drinks place". It's his first suggestion of the entire trip. Nice! Let's go!

We walk around, him trying to retrace his steps. We near the place, and he proudly looks at me and says we are here. I look up....

We are at Swensens. Again. Where I took him 2 nights ago as part of the planning I did months in advance.

I can't stop laughing. That, my family and friends, is the definition of being a man on vacation.

Swensens is delish though, so I happily take his suggestion and we order some yummy strawberry treats and drinks and have a wonderfully good evening.Baca lagi