I was about to go on a supermarket run ( walnuts , NZD $7 / 100 gram ), when I heard my name being shouted in Vietnamese accent from over the road.
Lo, it’s Trang, a friend of the aforesaid Richard, waddling over briskly from the cafe over-road, brandishing two bottles;
This chap is a ( Vietnamese ) English teacher, but despite that handicap, I gathered ’twas for the ankle, and that it contained white wine and ethanol.
He repeated the instruction “not to drink” a suspect number of times, possibly three in all.
I sniffed it – alcohol alright – but it contains another herb or spice, which has so far flummoxed my limited bloodhound faculties, and his limited English.
He’s a well-meaning sort, so assuming primum no nocere, and all that, I’ve tried it. No disaster, but an unexpected miracle cure hasn’t happened either.
And because I’m too lazy to produce a separate post ….
I’ve finished the last Sherlock Holmes, and today bought the volume above ( NZD $3.30 ), with the aim of dragging it out through the upcoming travels to Dalat, and back