Yellow lights and plastic chairs

There's something special about eating on the street. Something familiar, that I had forgotten about until tonight. The feel of a tiny plastic chair against your ass. A beer sweating on an even tinier table in front of you. The warm glow of street lights, bathing everything in a golden soup. The feel of the dirt and shit under neath your sandals. The smiles on the faces of strangers. The exhaust from passing scooters mixing with the intoxicating smell emanating from a nearby grill. The way your shirt sticks to your back.

It's all so specific. The smells. The feeling of the air. The way the food tastes. It's better. Much better than any over priced restaurant. Give me a crowded street corner any day. When it's crowded you know it's good.

This is Hanoi. This is traveling.