#Barbecue kip

[micheltaanman-blog]

Gebraden kippen klok

[bbqbastard]

Beercan Chicken op de BBQ: interessante techniek of gimmick?

[natigail]

I wanted to see how insane their solo stories from this video looked written out, so please enjoy!

Dan's story "The Dragon Prince"

Once upon a time, there was a boy named Dan from the House of Fire who's motto was "the fire in our ass will never die!" And from Phil, House Amazing, the kingdom of squatting. They were sworn enemies whose houses were at war ever since the great lamp licking incidence. One day, Dan was bathing his fiery drake, Kamala, when he saw a glint in the reflection of his gauntlet. It was a surprise attack from that scallywag Phil! He mounted his dragon and yelled his signature war cry: "ZING!" Phil looked down at the fire kingdom. "Hah, more like squishy kingdom." But before he knew it, Dan was on his tail, he was so close he was practically on his toe. Their beasts, Kamala and Markiplier, released flames at the same time like a torrent of lethal piss. Double K.O. They fell to the ground and lost consciousness. Dan awoke to find Phil's brain stuck in Dan's eye. He shouted, "wow, this is a moist situation." Phil roused gayly. "You saved me," he said. They locked eyes and in that moment, they knew how futile their feud was. They saved each other. Did they have to slay each other? In that moment, Phil felt something skipping down his hips. He swam as hard as he could and suddenly, he felt it, Phil had birthed a beautiful, purple egg. Dan scoffed, "the prophecy is true." "It's our child," Phil said. "The legendary worm and we shall name him Gary." The end.

Phil's story "The Princes"

Once upon a castle in a kingdom called Evony, there were two princing belonging to warring families. Tonight was the last time they would meet before the great battle. Danielo awoke, sword in hand, as he heard a shuffle at the door. Philipus walked into his bedroom wearing a panty. "I didn't mean to disturb you but I thought I should tell you that my father is bringing a dragon to the party and also a large, enchanted hippo. Danielo cried a single tear. "I don't want to die for this stupid family, I just want to be a knight with you and help old ladies cross the street." "Why must we spill blood?" Danielo smirked. "Glory and Amazon coins. Philipus said, "it's our final night together, I thought we could do our favourite activity - twerking. It might make us a bit sweaty but it makes me constipated. As the sun rose, the two knights had fallen asleep in a hay field, using rabbit shit as bedding. This was the morning of the battle, they would be on opposing side. Danielo flew into battle on his dragon Jeff, scanning the skies for his prince Philipus. Philipus raised a sword into the sky as he was silhouetted by the beast. This was not a fair fight. The war had begun. Thousands were being killed. Philipus had a secret weapon, a medieval salami. His best friend flew down from his dragon and approached him. They crossed swords. "I can't do this, Philipus," screamed Danielo. "I want to move to North Korea, start our jobs as Only Phans models." Philipus tried to reason with him but suddenly, Danielo's dragon Jeff started to breath fire at them both. It was so hot, Danielo was on fire. He had one final word for Philipus: "yeee..." as both knights burned to death. They were then eaten by the dragon as a toasty, barbecue snack. They tasted like Takis Fuego. The dragon went on to kill all soldiers and both kings. It ruled the castle in a happy, gay life with his dragon boyfriend, Allisandra, and laid a dragon egg, which he called Kip. They never saw another human again. The princes would always be remembered as the tastiest snacks in the kingdom.

[redemptioninchaos]

@dimensionhoppinghybrids continued from here

Colette’s all-black eyes flitted towards the fox(?) who addressed her, then she smirked. She landed supine, so she lifted her legs up and kipped up onto the floor. The mongoose had an athletic build and was fairly tall for a woman, at least in her own realm. Her bushy tail slightly resembled a burnt candle wick near the tip. She had a beige button-up cardigan over a black tank top and blue jeans, red sneakers with white tips on her feet. She had the faint smell of woodsmoke about her and a mysterious, obfuscatory aura.

She grabbed an empty chair and kicked back. “Someone or something,” she shrugged, the smile not fading from her face. “Whatever it was, fate must smile on you for having met me. If this place serves barbecue chicken, fate would be smiling on me, too.”

[oneshotcafe]

Today is DAY 7 of CAFE TRIVIA WEEK

And you know what time it is!

IT’S QUIZ TIME!!!!!!

I hope you’ve memorized all the answers, because you’re legally not allowed to look at the previous trivia posts!

Answers are under the cut.

—————

Question 1: What was the event at which we had our peak number of customers?

A) My Birthday

B) Plight’s Birthday

C) Ling’s Birthday

D) The mysterious unnamed now full-timer’s Birthday

—

Question 2: How many people did we have at our peak during the event mentioned in the previous post?

A) 12

B) 58

C) 67

D) 45

—

Question 3: What style of cooking does Mason specialize in?

A) Barbecue

B) Pastries

C) Salads

D) Anything with Cheese

—

Question 4: How many times does plight show up at the cafe per week?

A) 3

B) 7

C) 14

D) 21

—

Question 5: What is the Exact length of time Watcher stands in a corner ominously?

A) 16 minutes and 5 seconds

B) 18 minutes and 12 seconds

C) 4 minutes and 56 seconds

D) 1 hour, 8 minutes and 14 seconds

—

Question 6: What is Kip’s preferred meal at the Cafe?

A) A full English Breakfast

B) A Large Hamburger

C) Chicken and Waffles

D) Triple Shot Espresso

—

Question 7: What purpose did the cafe’s building have before it was a cafe?

A) Bowling Alley

B) Apartments

C) Kip’s previous Lab

D) Library

—

Question 8: How long was the Library Building abandoned for?

A) 10 years

B) 20 years

C) 50 years

D) 100 years

—

Question 9: Who purchased the Cafe building?

A) Ling

B) Ling’s predecessor

C) Me

D) Plight

—

Question 10: What type of video games does Ling specialize in?

A) JRPGs

B) Platformers

C) Cooking Games

D) Ling only plays Terraria and has over 2000 hours in game.

—

Question 11: What is N’s secret

A) He is a superhero, known as “Bacon Exploder” who fights crime at night by cooking at people

B) He is in the closet

C) He is secretly a really good cook

D) YOU WILL NEVER KNOW!!!!! MUAHAHAHAHA

—

Question 12: What day is the only day nobody enters the Cafe?

A) August 25th

B) August 26th

C) August 27th

D) August 28th

——————

Congratulations! You have finished the quiz! Please check your answers below, and then put your total in a comment or in the tags!

1: C

2: D

3: B

4: D

5: B

6: A

7: D

8: C

9: A

10: C (answer D is me, not ling)

11: D, but one of those other answers is also correct though you should not have picked it because you don’t know my secret and i will never tell muahahahahahahahaha.

12: B

[indianbarbecuerestaurant]

De beste Indiase afhaalmaaltijd in Hilversum voor uw volgende maaltijd | Indian Barbecue Restaurant

Zin in een heerlijke Indiase maaltijd, maar geen tijd om uit eten te gaan? Indiaas eten om mee te nemen in Hilversum biedt de perfecte oplossing. Of je nu zin ​​hebt in een stevige curry, smakelijke biryani of een selectie knapperige samosa's, je kunt vanuit je luie stoel genieten van je favoriete Indiase gerechten. De rijkdom aan gerechten uit de Indiaas keuken, gecombineerd met het gemak van afhaalmaaltijden, maakt het een ideale optie voor drukke individuen en gezinnen. Laten we eens kijken waarom de afhaalmaaltijd Indiaas eten in Hilversum een ​​must-try-ervaring is voor iedereen die van gedurfde smaken en stevige maaltijden houdt.

Wat maakt de Indiaas eten om mee te nemen in Hilversum zo bijzonder?

Authentieke smaken Indiaas eten staat bekend om het gebruik van verse kruiden, specerijen en ingrediënten die krachtige, rijke smaken creëren. Wanneer u bestelt bij een eersteklas afhaalrestaurant voor Indiaas eten om mee te nemen in Hilversum, geniet u gegarandeerd van dezelfde authentieke smaken als in traditionele Indiaas huizen. Het eten wordt met zorg bereid, waardoor elk gerecht boordevol smaak zit.

Gemak Of je nu tot laat moet werken of gewoon geen zin hebt om te koken, de Indiaas eten om mee te nemen bieden een handige oplossing. Met een kort telefoontje of een online bestelling kunt u genieten van uw favoriete gerechten zonder dat u ze zelf hoeft te bereiden. Het is de perfecte optie voor drukke doordeweekse avonden of last-minute maaltijdplannen.

Verscheidenheid aan gerechten Van vegetarische lekkernijen tot hartige vleescurry's, de Indiaas eten om mee te nemen in Hilversum bieden voor ieder wat wils. Enkele van de meest populaire butter chicken, lamb vindaloo, vegetable biryani, and garlic naan.. Met zo'n gevarieerd menu is er altijd wel iets nieuws om te proberen.

Populaire gerechten die je moet proberen

Chicken Tikka Masala: Gooi je favoriet gekruide kip in de tandoor voor vochtige stukjes heerlijke kip tikka, gegarneerd met koriander en chaat masala.

Vegetable Biryani: De vermenging van Mughlai- en Andhra-keukens in de keuken. Gelaagde rijst gekookt met groenten; biryani wordt het best genoten met een royale lepel raita (op yoghurt gebaseerd bijgerecht) voor een onvergetelijke ervaring.

Paneer Tikka Masala: Stukjes Indiaas kaas (paneer) eerst gemarineerd, daarna gegrild in de klei-oven en vervolgens gekookt in een speciale romige saus.

Garlic Naan: Gekruid met knoflook en koriander.

Samosa: Diepgebakken deegpasteitje gevuld met gekruide groenten.

Perfect voor elke gelegenheid Of je nu een familiediner organiseert, een informele bijeenkomst met vrienden, of jezelf gewoon trakteert op een solo-avondje, de Indiaas eten afhalen in Hilversum bieden een veelzijdige oplossing voor elke gelegenheid. De verpakking zorgt ervoor dat uw eten warm en vers aankomt, klaar om van te genieten.

Conclusie Voor een gemakkelijke, smaakvolle dinerervaring is de Indiaas eten om mee te nemen in Hilversum de ultieme keuze. Met zijn grote verscheidenheid aan gerechten en authentieke smaak kunt u genieten van het beste van de Indiase keuken zonder dat u uw huis hoeft te verlaten. De volgende keer dat je zin hebt in iets lekkers en gemakkelijks, probeer dan eens de Indiase afhaalmaaltijden in Hilversum – je zult niet teleurgesteld worden.

Contact us: (+31) 352033150 Email: info@indianbarbecue.nl Website: https://indianbarbecue.nl/ Address: Groest 51, 1211 CZ Hilversum

[fransopdefiets]

9-7 Saltstraumen

Ik kookte weer eens wat anders gisterenavond. Ze hadden Hollandse prei in de supermarkt, en ze verkopen de aardappels hier los, dus je kunt mooi afgepast inslaan. Maar wat je daar nu bij aan eiwitten? De biefstukken en entrecotes die ze hier verkopen, beginnen bij drie ons, dat is me echt teveel. Uiteindelijk vond ik spiesjes varkensvlees voor op de barbecue, helaas wel gekruid, maar dat moest dan maar. Het effect was dat na het bakken de hele hut naar knoflook en andere onherkenbare kruiden stonk.

Vanmorgen was ik om half negen weg en om half tien stond ik voor de self-service supermarkt van Mats Kroken in Storvik. Je kunt daar naar binnen als je een qr-code scant en een account aanmaakt. Maar om de een of andere reden krijg ik telkens de foutmelding dat de locatievoorzieningen op mijn telefoon niet aan staan. Je krijgt er meteen een uitleg bij hoe je dat moet aanpassen, maar dat lost niks op. Een vriendelijke medewerkster laat me naar binnen, zodat ik toch wat eten voor onderweg kan kopen en (heel belangrijk!) een beker hete koffie met een stuk gebak kan wegwerken om op te warmen. Want het is koud vanmorgen! Ik fiets de hele tijd door de laaghangende wolken en veel warmer dan een graad of acht zal het niet zijn. Als ik weg wil, kan ik er natuurlijk niet uit, want ik moet dan weer een code scannen. Omkomen van de honger zal ik hier niet, maar ik ga toch liever verder. Na enig zoeken vind ik de medewerkster in het magazijn en die doet de deur weer voor me open.

Aan het eind van de ochtend, ik heb er dan al een hele klim en afdaling opzitten, zit ik tee dubben wat te doen. Het is koud en vochtig en ik twijfel of het niet beter is om een flink stuk door te fietsen vandaag. En dan breekt er opeens een zonnetje door en verschijnt er, als een fata morgana, een café op een splitsing, met de toepasselijke naam Polar spot camp. Hoera, meer koffie en gegrilde kip met patat!

Dat geeft de doorslag, ik fiets vanmiddag door naar Saltstraumen. Dan komt er nog drie uur fietsen bij, maar ben ik morgenochtend al vroeg in Bodø en heb ik alle tijd om mijn matje te vinden. Ik heb gisterenavond weliswaar een aantal sportzaken gevonden in Bodø maar het is volstrekt onduidelijk of ze ook matjes verkopen, dus het kan zomaar zijn dat ik daar even tijd voor nodig heb.

Daarna kan ik meteen door naar mijn hotel en mijn lakenzak en fietstruien wassen, want dat is voor het laatst in Trondheim gebeurd. En hoewel ik ze elke dag lucht, begint er toch langzaam maar zeker een hardnekkig luchtje aan te komen, dat associaties oproept met de bedeling en onbewoonbaar verklaarde woningen. En dat geldt mutatis mutandis voor mijn sportlegging, waar trouwens de gaten in beginnen te vallen dus misschien kan ik daar beter ook meteen een nieuwe voor kopen.

In Saltstraumen kom ik op een supertoeristische camping terecht. Ze hebben nog wel een hut beschikbaar met twee slaapkamers voor 150 euro, maar ik zet dit keer gewoon mijn tentje op. Er schijnt een waterig zonnetje en het is eigenlijk niet onaangenaam, blijkbaar begin ik te wennen aan het arctische buitenleven.

Gefietste afstand: 84 km

Gefietste tijd: 7 uur

Afstand tot de Noordkaap langs de meridiaan: 607,9 km

[guytheporn]

Pornosites

Voor u als financieel geschoolde professional, gaat het gepaard met de mogelijkheid om een lieve dame te selecteren en haar te laten zien aan alle opmerkelijke mensen, inclusief uw baas. Met een ruime marge zal niets u ervan weerhouden deze hemelse boodschappers te gebruiken wanneer u uw mensen in een andere stad bezoekt en zij garanderen dat ze uw nieuwe lieveling of geliefde zullen zijn. Dit is erg belangrijk als je mensen je al heel lang verplichten om te daten en geliefden als een gek over te brengen!

Gaat met je naar binnen trekken en bij je blijven. Als u van het goktype bent, kunnen zij u naar uw belangrijkste gokclub brengen en u vragen zich minder dor te voelen terwijl u tegen gunstig geluk vecht. Als je aardig bent, kun je een of twee escorts meenemen voor een lunch of barbecue en je daar onder de hemel uitleven. Zeker, ze hebben talloze doeleinden, en er worden voortdurend nieuwe ontdekt.

Als je van het wilde soort bent, is briljant het ideale ding. Je kunt ze meenemen op een meidenclub, met ze reizen en ze je het soort seksuele rugmassages laten geven waardoor je je zo verbijsterend voelt dat je je vleugels zou kunnen overlappen en vliegen! Als je enthousiast bent over seks, en bovendien zeer verbluffende seks, dan moet je daar ook buitengewoon voor zijn en vrijwel alle trucjes van het vak kennen, ook al hebben ze nog veel meer niet uitgelegd!

Dichtbij begeleidt op snelkeuze!

Blijkbaar kun je, als je een telefoon hebt, een jonge vrouw bellen. Afhankelijk van waar ter wereld je het niet kunt vermijden, moet je mogelijk naar een gratis webgebaseerde Pornosites gaan die door een kantoor wordt benaderd om een jonge vrouw in dienst te nemen. Maar ervan uitgaande dat u zich in de VS, Canada of de meeste andere eerstewereldlanden bevindt, zijn de escorts regelmatig gratis. Voortdurend is het einde, de routine is bijna identiek! Vind de beste jonge vrouw voor jou, betaal voor haar en laat haar kennismaken, bij jou thuis of waar ze ook is. De hele omstandigheid is eveneens ongelooflijk voorzichtig.

De escortwerkplekken zullen regelmatig wat exorbitanter zijn, maar toch is het goed! Minder denkbare uitkomsten zijn inbraak of oplichting. Ik weet of ik in een onvolwassen land was waar ik met een kantoor best ver zou komen.

Deze jonge escortdames zijn er klaar voor, begaafd en absoluut het werk waard!

Het spreekt voor zich dat de meeste escorts speciaal opgeleid en gekwalificeerd zijn en in verschillende talen communiceren. Ze zijn ook overal geweldig en kunnen elk topmodel alert en wakker houden. Hun capaciteiten variëren van twerken tot bewegen, strip-duwen en het geven van uitstekende rugmassages en het zijn allemaal entertainers die met je over de meeste onderwerpen kunnen praten en je uitstekend kunnen prijzen om je het gevoel te geven dat je de langste en meest ongelooflijke mannen op aarde bent. Op dezelfde manier, als je haar in de zak krijgt, zul je haar zo dichtbij krijgen dat je bijna uit de hand vliegt, vandaar dat je ongelooflijk hard kunt werken aan het begin en het einde dat je kunt doen om je stevig vast te houden en niet gek te worden!

Tegen het einde van de dag bestaat er zeker geen twijfel dat ik mijn ziel zou verkopen voor een enorm deel van de provocerende escorts die ik heb gezien en die zonder enige twijfel het werk waard zijn, in wezen degenen die ik zo heb geselecteerd ver . In ieder geval, leer mijn zielsverwant niet!

Het kiezen van de juiste escortsite!

Nou, ik heb momenteel niet echt een meest geliefde escortsite, omdat elke site iets uitzonderlijks biedt dat de anderen hoe dan ook proberen te negeren. Lees gewoon mijn studies, kijk eens naar de jonge vrouwen in de verschillende escortregio's en laat uw kip de keuze voor u uitzoeken. Zeker, het is gewoon essentieel!

Bovendien, hemel, als je echt een manier bedenkt om ergens in een escort terecht te komen, zal je soulmate of andere persoon zeker geïrriteerd raken als je een of andere fysiek gecommuniceerde ziekte krijgt. Zorg er dus voor dat je op de juiste manier een condoom gebruikt en verdedig je buitengewone kip!

[debarbequekenner]

De nieuwste bbq trend van 2023 gezonder barbecueën!

De zomer van 2023 gaat al bijna van start en dat betekent dat de barbecues weer tevoorschijn kunnen komen. Een nieuw jaar dus dat betekent ook nieuwe barbecue trends. Wij als debarbecuekenner.nl gaan in deze blog een van de nieuwste bbq trends van 2023 behandelen.

Dit jaar is er weer de barbecue wereld weer een beetje veranderd. Daarom behandelen wij nu een van de nieuwste bbq trends. Vroeger was het namelijk niet van belang om te denken aan gezond eten met de barbecue. Hoe meer vetter het veel, des te beter is de barbecue. Maar daar zien we afgelopen jaren verandering in. We letten ook tijdens het barbecueën steeds meer op onze gezondheid. We kiezen vaak gezondere producten, recepten met veel groente. Daarnaast wordt er ook steeds meer gebruik gemaakt van fruit in onze barbecue recepten. Dat is iets wat we eerder nog niet heel vaak tegenkwamen. Maar wij verwachten dat deze trend zich flink gaat doorzetten en dat we dit in de toekomst steeds meer gaan zien.

Meedoen aan deze nieuwste bbq trend? Dat kan!

Vaak wordt er bij barbecueën gedacht aan vette burgers, speklappen of een dik stuk vlees. Lekker, maar is niet nootzakelijk voor een lekkere barbecue. Je kunt ook gaan voor een mindere hoeveelheid vlees, kies dan een goed stuk vlees dat magerder is. Er zijn genoeg soorten vlees die vetarm zijn. Denk bijvoorbeeld aan biefstuk of een lekker stukje kip. Kies je toch voor een ander stuk vlees? Dat kan ook maar ga dan niet voor een doorbehandeld stukje. Kies een stuk onbewerkt vlees, dit is een stuk gezonder en je kunt het vlees nu naar jouw smaak kruiden. Dit is vaak veel lekkerder en je kunt je eigen smaak eraan geven.

Je kunt ook kiezen om groenten te gaan barbecueën. Hiervoor hoef je niet per se vegetariër te zijn. Groente op de barbecue kan heerlijk zijn met de juiste behandeling en kruiden. Hier talloze heerlijke recepten voor en je kunt hier veel inspiratie voor opdoen. Bekijk onze website eens voor meer vegetarische recepten en enige tips.

Vermijd de dikmakers tijdens je barbecue.

Je kunt ook gewoon met de barbecue mee doen en genieten van het heerlijke vlees en ervoor kiezen om de dikmarkers te vermeiden. Dat is zeker een tips voor deze nieuwste bbq trend.  Kies ervoor om geen kant en klare sausjes te halen maar zelf de saus te maken. Veel sausen uit de winkel zitten vol met suikers en vetten. Je kunt zelf al heerlijke sausjes maken die veel gezonder zijn en minder vetten en suikers bevatten. Dit scheelt al flink in de calorieën en je houdt het hierdoor al een stuk gezonder. Probeer het drinken ook te houden bij het water. Dit kan ook al heerlijk zijn met een aantal stukjes fruit erin. Mocht je toch frisdrank willen, neem dan een light of een zero. Probeer wel de alcohol te vermeiden tijdens dit barbecue want een glaasje wijn of een biertje tikt behoorlijk aan.

Er zijn dus veel manieren om jouw barbecue stukje bij beetje gezonder te maken. Je hoeft niet ineens alle slechte dingen van tafel te schuiven maar begin met de kleine dingentjes. Dit kan je al een stuk helpen met deze nieuwste bbq trend. Geef je eigen draai aan deze trend, wees creatief en veel succes!

Benieuw naar meer blogs over barbecueën? Klink dan hier en bekijk onze website. Hier vind je meerdere blog, gerechten maar ook tips en tricks voor barbecue avonturen.

[ghentlemensbbq]

Eenvoudig gekruide kip, het moet soms echt niet moeilijker zijn. Dit recept doet me denken aan de ‘kip op zondag van de mama’.

Deze bereidingswijze voegt nog de heerlijke smaak van rook toe aan je kip, en alweer heb je er geen omkijken naar. Dus extra genieten van je gezelschap en de apero, zonder zorgen!

Benodigdheden:

1 eetlepel suiker

1 eetlepel grof zeezout

1 eetlepel kerriepoeder

1/2 theelepel knoflookpoeder

1/4 theelepel cayennepeper

1 ganse kip

handvol houtsnippers of rookchuncks of pellets

125 gr gesmolten ongezouten boter

Olijfolie

Setup van de BBQ:

Maak de barbecue of Green Mountain Grill Pellet BBQ klaar om indirect te roken op een lage temperatuur van 165°C.

Bereidingswijze:

Meng de suiker, het zeezout, het kerriepoeder, het knoflookpoeder en de cayennepeper in een kom.

Butterfly of spatchcock de kip als volgt:

Leg de kip met de borst naar beneden.  Met een schaar snij je de ruggengraat eruit door langs de ruggengraat te snijden, door de ribbenkast. Herhaal aan de andere kant. Verwijder de ruggengraat.

Leg nu de kip met de borst naar boven, plaats de palm van je hand in het midden van de kip op het borstbeen en druk stevig door tot je een ‘krak’ hoort en de kip openligt.

Snij eventueel doorheen het borst zodat je 2 helften hebt.

Wrijf de kip in met olijfolie en strooi er genereus het kruidenmengsel overheen. Doe dit zowel voor de buiten- als de binnenkant.

Leg de kip met de borst naar boven indirect boven de kolen en bestrijk de kip iedere 20 minuten met gesmolten boter, dit voor zo’n 1u45 tot 2u15 met gesloten deksel. Gooi geregeld houtsnippers op de kolen.

Grill eventueel de kip nog even af op een temperatuur van 180°C met het vlees naar beneden om een extra goudbruin kleurtje te geven.

De kip is klaar als de kerntemperatuur 75°C of meer aangeeft. Haal de kip van de BBQ en laat dan nog 5 à 10 minuten onder foliepapier rusten alvorens te serveren.

Smakelijk!

  Kerrie Kip op de Green Mounaint Pellet BBQ Eenvoudig gekruide kip, het moet soms echt niet moeilijker zijn. Dit recept doet me denken aan de 'kip op zondag van de mama'.

[gumnut-logic]

“You know, kid, I’ve been doing some research on you.”

Virgil froze in the door to his bathroom. He knew that voice. Oh god.

A glance over towards his sofa and yes, it was confirmed.

Kip Harris was in his living room.

He blinked.

What was Kip Harris doing in his living room?

Virgil became suddenly very aware that moments before he had wandered zombie-like out of his bedroom wearing little but a pair of pyjama pants and attended to his morning necessaries in the bathroom with his idol sitting on his couch in full view.

Thank god, he had shut the bathroom door this morning.

“Mr Harris? Uh, what are you doing here?”

“Gordon let me in. Said you’d be happy to see me.” Yes, that was a smirk on the older man’s face.

Gordon was so dead.

Kip snorted. “Don’t kill him, son. I was fully aware of what I was doing. Sally said you were having a bit of a low run. I thought we could take this opportunity for a little one-on-one.” He held up his left leg. It was wrapped in a cast. “Had a bit of a low one of my own. Thought we could share the boredom.”

“Really?” Okay, so it was higher pitched than normal.

“Why, sure. As I said, I’ve been doing a bit of research and I find myself admiring your work. Wouldn’t mind swapping a few stories with you, myself.”

Virgil was staring.            

“Of course, that’s if we can talk.” The man was grinning at him.

Virgil flushed scarlet.

More so than normal since he wasn’t wearing a shirt. “Um, I’ll just go get some clothes on first.”

“No, hurry. Though Sally’s laid on a breakfast down there. Something about O’Malley’s speciality?”

Virgil was staring again.

A blink and he was moving.

Red flannel was thrown on in a hurry. O’Malleys was not something to be toyed with. The family owned business was to steak what the Tracys were to rescues. Their breakfast menu was to die for.

Scott must have hauled it in on TB1 to get it here fast enough.

He offered Kip a hand up and the man deployed a pair of crutches. “I’d be very interested if you’d fill me in on how you and your brothers managed to get a panda off a plane midair.”

Virgil held the door. “How do you know about that?”

Kip grinned at him. “Oh, a little brother may have mentioned it. Something about you slicing off the entire rear end of a plane?”

“Really?”

“Well, it might be presumptive of me, but I believe your brothers are quite proud of you.”

Virgil froze halfway down the corridor. “Exactly how long have you been on Tracy Island?”

“Oh, long enough to be told several heroic stories starring you.”

Virgil didn’t know whether to be embarrassed or alarmed. He blushed either way while holding the elevator doors.

“Don’t you be worrying about it, son. It never hurts to have a proud family.” Something flickered across the man’s face for just a moment before the grin returned. “Though I have to say, young Gordon, was particularly enthusiastic. Did you really do that with a barbecue?”

Shit.

And Kip burst out laughing. “Oh, I can see why he does it. With a face like that, son, you’re just asking for it.”

Somebody was asking for it.

“Heh. I had one of those, rapscallion little brat. Drive you to the edge, but then risk his life to save yours.” He smiled down at Virgil. “Cherish him while you can.”

A frown and he relented. “Yes, sir. I do, sir.”

“And drop the ‘sir’. The name’s Kip.”

“Yes, sir.”

A flat stare.

“Yes, Kip.”

A small smile. “Much better.”

-o-o-o-

Virgil and the Last Straw

[bbqbastard]

Zoete aardappel met Mole en authentiek gerookte kip

[wishingforatypewriter]

yo im going to be in manhattan this friday and i was just wondering if you could give me some recs for food? and also bakeries and cafes lol wait this is really bad timing erm sorry here 📓

Hey! I can definitely give you some recommendations! I'm not sure if you're going to be primarily uptown or downtown, so I'm just gonna compile two lists below (with links, wherever possible).

Downtown (below 59th Street)

Brunch*

-Carroll Place (Italian wine bar and gastropub near West 4th Street w/ bottomless mimosas or sangria. I personally swear by the Eggs in Purgatory)

-Agave (Mexican style bottomless brunch spot. There are two locations, one in Greenwich Village and one in Kips Bay. The food is decent, but the drinks are excellent. I'm usually a staunch mimosa person at brunch, but definitely get the margaritas here)

Lunch/Dinner

-99 Favor Taste (Delicious, affordable all you can eat hotpot and table barbecue. This is the first place my friends and I wanted to go once indoor dining was allowed again. There are multiple locations downtown)

-Misoya (The best ramen shop in NYC, imho. Every item on the menu is so good, it brings tears to my eyes just to think about it lol)

-Laut (Amazing Malaysian, Singaporean, and Thai food near Union Square! I've only been there twice, but I can swear by the Asam Laksa and the Hainanese Roast Chicken Rice)

-Paesano's of Mulberry (My favorite restaurant on the Mulberry Street strip in Little Italy, which is admittedly kind of basic in principle, but still really good. Solid, affordable place that my friends and I have been going to since high school)

-Claw Daddy's (Delicious Louisiana seafood boil—spicy, flavorful, yum. They also have great drinks of the "adult capri sun" variety)

-Soogil (Korean-French fusion with an amazing tasting menu! It's a little pricey, but if you have room to splurge, I would highly recommend giving this place a try)

Sweets

-Fay Da Bakery (Chinese bakery with lots of different cakes and buns to try! There are two locations in Manhattan, and a bunch more in Queens)

-Max Brenner (This place serves pretty good lunch and dinner, but the reason to come here is the chocolate fondue and chocolate cocktails -- their dark chocolate martini sends me)

-Otafuku x Medetai (This one is a Japanese street food restaurant, but I'm grouping it with sweets because the taiyaki here is everything)

Uptown (above 59th Street)

Brunch

-Calle Ocho (Latin American cuisine with a robust sangria menu for bottomless brunch. Tread carefully with the sangria, though, b/c it's sweet and doesn't really taste like alcohol and the next thing you know, you'll be sending salacious text messages to your ex. Trust me, I know.)

-Moonrise Izakaya (Japanese gastropub on the Upper West Side. This place is a good vibe at any time of day, but the weekend brunch is so good it makes me emotional lol)

Lunch/Dinner

-Carmine's (Family style Italian food. I would recommend going with a party of three or more because the portions here are notoriously massive. Like garlic bread served on a pizza pan massive.)

-Red Rooster (Chef Marcus Samuelson adds his personal flair to soul food/American comfort food. The yardbird is easily the best piece of fried chicken I've had to date. The Uptown Guac is also everything.)

-Cafe du Soleil (Casual, affordable French restaurant. Great food, nice wines. I swear by the Hachis Parmentier, and will never say no to the creme brulee)

-Jacob's Pickles (Southern American comfort food. Easily serves the best cheese grits I've experienced in life thus far. The house made biscuits are also really delicious)

-Haru Sushi (Japanese restaurant with a few different locations around the city, although I think the UWS branch is the best.)

-Pappardella (Another Italian restaurant with really good food. Everything I've tried on the menu hits)

Sweets

-The Hungarian Pastry Shop (Cafe and bakery by Columbia with amazing coffee and baked goods. The plain croissants are always fluffy and delicious, and the cheese danishes are everything. The cappuccinos with sugar and cinnamon are some of my favorite in the city. There's no website for this one, so I'm linking the Yelp page)

-Silver Moon Bakery (A little french bakery on the Upper West Side that brings me SO MUCH joy. The herbed brie sticks, palmiers, apple tarts, and chocolate bomb cakes are my personal favorites)

-Levain Bakery (I can't believe I forgot this at first! Chocolate chip walnut cookies are great and they only cost $4)

*Imo, there are much better brunch spots in Brooklyn, but if you don't have time so schlep out there, these places are still great.

[steppedoffaflight]

Summer’s a Knife - Chapter 11

Catch up on Chapter 10 here

“You look like you have a fever,” You insist, despite Van’s failure to mention it as a symptom. You reach forward, pressing your palm to his forehead. You don’t really know what a fever feels like, having only dealt with them yourself once or twice, but Van’s skin is noticeably warm under your touch. His flush is further evidence.

“I don’t have a fever,” Van tells you. “I’m hot because I’m layered up under all these blankets. I’m fucking freezing, actually."

“Having the chills is part of having a fever,” You reply.

“Sweating is part of laying here under five blankets for two days.”

The familiar Van stubbornness has reared its head again, and you realize it’s up to you to uncover exactly what’s going on. “Where’s your thermometer?”

Van eyes you wearily. “I don’t have one. I’m fine.” Even as he says it, his teeth chatter with his chills.

or

Van isn’t feeling well.

Word count: ~7k

Chapter Eleven July 2019 

This time after leaving Van, you try to keep enough common sense to remember that you’ll most likely see him soon, unplanned, when you least expect it. He was still in the U.S., after all.

This thought is enough to keep you sane throughout this bout of post-Van hangover, although not enough to cure it. You still mope around slightly, but a fourth of July celebration at Mary and Theo’s brightens your mood significantly. You spend most of the weekend over there too, sunbathing by Mary’s pool, your glass always full of whatever leftover alcohol they had from the barbecue. 

And just as you suspected, the following week Van texts to say he’s headed home during his time off. He manages to avoid seeing you right away, citing a nasty cold, but days later he’s still claiming to be sick.

If he’s faking, a possibility you’ve considered, then he’s putting up quite an act. He snapchats you a collection of empty tea mugs that have gathered on his living room coffee table, and the only subject of your texting conversations is how shit he feels and how tired he is. And although it pained you not to see him the second he was in town, you didn’t object to giving him space on Wednesday and Thursday night when he told you that the tickle in his throat he’d started feeling on the plane had escalated, begging you to keep yourself far away from his toxic germs. 

But by Friday you’re tired of staying away. Is it really that bad? You text him on your lunch break. Although you realize it came across sort of rude, you were no stranger to how men treated the smallest sniffle as a life-threatening illness. At this point, your exchanges had fizzled out to sporadic hi’s and a constant sorry I was down for a kip from Van. If things were really as bad as he was making them seem, you were less worried about his germs and more worried about him taking care of himself.

Worse, Van sends back. Seems impossible but I feel worse than yesterday

Aw, You send back with a sympathetic frowning emoji. Make sure you have some soup!

Van’s reply worries you: Haven’t had anything today. My throat’s on fire.

At that, you frown to yourself at your desk, your sandwich momentarily forgotten. Is it strep?

You’re relieved that Van stays awake long enough to continue the conversation, rather than dozing off mid-topic like he’s been doing: idk never had it. Had laryngitis before but this isn’t the same. Just a cold with a sore throat pretty sure.

Getting sick isn’t a big deal. Everyone gets sick, you try to tell yourself. But Van’s words have left you uneasy. The thought of him not having a roommate or being on tour with one of the boys around to help him doesn’t sit right with you. He’s being ravaged by these germs alone, and now he’s admitting he can’t even force some food down.

I’m coming by after work, You inform him of your decision.

But Van’s dozed off by then, and he replies hours later just as you’re wrapping up for the day: Okay. His lack of argument worries you more. Van McCann? Not being stubborn for once?

\\

The casual Friday dress code in the office means that you don’t bother to head home and change after work, instead heading directly over to Van’s in your v-neck and jeans. 

You know you’re being ridiculous, but an eerie feeling settles over you as you climb out of the car. Nothing looks amiss from the outside of the house, but the fact that you know Van isn’t bouncing around inside, lively and hyper as ever, makes everything feel off. 

You don’t even bother to knock, not wanting him to exert himself answering the door. The key is right under the mat like the last time you’d used it, and you roll your eyes at how he’s blatantly ignored your advice to move it. You unlock the door while you juggle the two smoothies you’d picked up on the way: one to calm Van’s throat and get some nutrients in him, and one for yourself.

You can’t help but smile softly at the sight of him bundled up on the couch. Even in this state, it’s a relief to see him again. “Hey.”

“Aren’t you a sight for sore eyes,” Van croaks. The pain in his throat is audible, and he winces after his words. 

You roll your eyes, closing the door and heading over to him. The entire time you approach him he’s ogling you, and you avoid his eyes.

“Is this how you dress for work everyday?” He asks. “I bet everyone at the water cooler drools.”

“We don’t have a water cooler,” You laugh him off. “And you’re delirious. You’ve seen me in jeans and a t-shirt!”

Technically, you understand what he’s saying. Although you went casual with your top and pants, you made it workplace-friendly by pairing it with some heels, which Van’s only seen you in at Lou’s birthday party. And although you’ve styled your hair and makeup how you typically do for work, you don’t usually put in so much effort for your hangouts with Van unless you two have something planned. 

Once you sit down on the couch by Van’s feet you shimmy your heels off, tucking them under the coffee table for safe keeping.

“So,” You start, setting the smoothies down and turning your focus to him, “What’s going on, exactly?”

Taking a closer look at him tells you he’s worse off than he’s been revealing. He’s really only a head, the rest of him buried under a mound of blankets. There’s a slick sheen of oil and sweat over his skin, his cheeks flushed with what looks like a fever. And whatever he’s sick with has clearly worn him down; he hasn’t showered, evident from the grease plaguing the roots of his hair and the most stubble you’ve ever seen on his jaw. There’s dark bags under his eyes, more prominent than the ones that are usually there after his sleepless nights. 

Van goes through the timeline of this cold with you, but even when he’s done you’re eyeing him suspiciously.

“You look like you have a fever,” You insist, despite Van’s failure to mention it as a symptom. You reach forward, pressing your palm to his forehead. You don’t really know what a fever feels like, having only dealt with them yourself once or twice, but Van’s skin is noticeably warm under your touch. His flush is further evidence.

“I don’t have a fever,” Van tells you. “I’m hot because I’m layered up under all these blankets. I’m fucking freezing, actually."

“Having the chills is part of having a fever,” You reply. 

“Sweating is part of laying here under five blankets for two days.”

The familiar Van stubbornness has reared its head again, and you realize it’s up to you to uncover exactly what’s going on. “Where’s your thermometer?”

Van eyes you wearily. “I don’t have one. I’m fine.” Even as he says it, his teeth chatter with his chills.

You suddenly turn to his smoothie, melting away next to all his empty mugs. “Have some of this, at least. You need something in your system.”

You hand it over to him after he drudges one of his arms out from the blankets. You’re alarmed to see he’s in a crewneck, sweat stains clearly visible at the collar and the fold of his armpit. But you keep quiet, not wanting to distract him from the task at hand. 

Van doesn’t back down from your challenge, and makes stubborn eye contact with you as he sucks from his straw. You watch him take one, two, three sips of smoothie, wincing the entire time, before he has to stop, his face clearly contorted in pain.

“Feels nice,” He admits, and manages to take one other minuscule sip before his discomfort wins out and he has to set his cup back on the coffee table. 

“But your throat hurts.” It’s not a question, but Van gives you a small nod of confirmation. 

At his nod you fish your phone out of your purse, which you’d set down by your feet. You flick the flashlight on, getting up from your spot by his feet and hovering over his head. 

“Lemme see,” You murmur, and surprisingly Van lets you, opening his mouth for you to look into. “Your tongue’s in the way.”

Van settles his tongue behind his bottom teeth, revealing inflamed, blood red tonsils that are clearly infected with pus. 

“You’ve got strep,” You say, clicking your phone light off. Van closes his mouth.

“What makes you say that?”

“Um, that you have all the symptoms of it?” You start to tick them off of your fingers, Van looking more displeased with each one.

“I don’t have a fever,” He argues when you’ve rattled off that one. 

“You do. You’re burning up.”

“Not from a fever. But anyway,” He sighs, shuffling his arm back into his burrow of blankets, and nestling in tighter. “M’gonna get some rest.”

“You definitely need it. But c’mon.” You start to rise from your seat, ready to take on the task of getting Van ready for the hospital.

Van has his eyes closed peacefully, but at your stirring he squints at you through his lashes. “C’mon what?”

You blink at him. “What do you mean? You’ve got to go to the hospital!”

Van seems appalled at the suggestion. “The hospital! For a sore throat?”

“For strep!”

Van shakes his head. “I’m not going to the fucking hospital! It’s probably already run its course!”

“Run its course?” You fight to keep your voice down, noticing how close you are to shouting. “Your fever hasn’t even broken!”

He refuses to argue, instead settling back into his blankets, blatantly ignoring your suggestion that he get up. 

“I’ll go get you some fresh clothes.”

Van shrugs. “Do what you want, m’not fucking going.”

You sigh in frustration. “Why?”

“I don’t need to.”

You take a deep breath, try to remember that he’s got a good excuse for being so difficult, and head up to his bedroom for the clothes. 

When you’ve returned to the living room with a clean crewneck, sweatpants, and a damp cloth to clean his face with, he’s eyeing you from the couch. 

“I got you something warm.” You set the clothes down on top of his blankets, and turn to him with the cloth. “Let me clean you up.”

“I don’t need to be cleaned up,” Van mumbles, but he still lets you cup his jaw, turning his head towards you so that you can wipe the grime and oil from his skin.

“Why are you acting like this?” You keep your voice soft. “Don’t you want to feel better?” You try to think of something else to convince him, and then a lightbulb goes off in your mind. “It’ll take you too long to fight it off without antibiotics. You won’t be able to sing.”

He stays silent as you finish massaging the cloth over his cheeks. “I don’t like hospitals,” He grumbles at last.

“You don’t see a doctor on tour? Especially for your throat?”

“I do,” Van tells you, blinking his eyes open now that you’re done wiping him off. “I get vocal cord checkups.”

“Then what’s the problem? I don’t understand.”

Van rolls his eyes. “Checkups are fine, I don’t like hospitals. And I fucking hate American hospitals.”

At his words all of the pieces click together. You’d failed to realize that he obviously grew up with a different healthcare system. “Oh.”

“Have you ever been in an ER?” You decide to ask, suddenly lost at what to do. Did he even have insurance?

“Yes, but it was always on tour. Someone from the team went with me.”

“Right.” You chew over his words. If he’s been before, then surely he must have insurance. Unless this ever-present ‘team’ somehow paid medical bills out of pocket. The more Van described their constant assistance, the more you wondered how he managed to live alone. “Can you, like, call them?”

“I can,” Van nods. “But it’s a hassle. Which is why I’m wondering if this is all necessary.”

You knew that it was. But Van made a convincing argument for letting him hunker down and fight this off himself. You only let yourself consider it for a flash of a second before you sigh. “You really need antibiotics.”

Van trusts your judgement, because he sighs before extending his arm, grasping for his phone on the table.

There’s not much for you to do until the insurance matter is sorted, and while you stand there idly your stomach growls.

“I’m gonna make something to eat,” You whisper as he presses the phone to his ear, settling in to start asking questions. “Do you want anything?”

He shakes his head, shifting his phone to his other ear so that he can reach for his smoothie. You look away, not wanting to see him struggle to swallow it.

Being out on tour means there’s almost nothing viable in the fridge again, but you make do with scrambling a few eggs and popping some bread in the toaster. Van calls your name as you’re seated at the kitchen island, almost done scarfing down your food. You swallow your forkful of eggs down and head back into the living room.

“My manager sent me this.” He holds his phone out from the back of the couch so that you can look over what’s on the screen. There’s multiple photos in the texting thread, different types of insurance paperwork and numbers the hospital can call.

“Will that work?” He coughs as you skim over them.

“I mean, hopefully,” You’re clueless about what you’re looking at, handing the phone back over. Van looks discouraged.

“It’ll be fine,” You hurry to reassure him. “As long as they’ve got something to go on. They can even call your manager later if they have questions.”

That seems to soothe him slightly. He nods. “She told me to make sure to bring my passport, too.”

The next half hour involves Van rattling off various things that he needs, and you climbing the stairs to the bedroom repeatedly to go get them. Soon you’re out of breath, your legs feel like jelly, and you collapse onto the couch next to a freshly-dressed Van, although he’d been too weak to shower. 

“Oh, fuck,” Looking down at your bare feet suddenly, you realize that you’ll have to put your heels back on. 

“I don’t wanna wear my heels,” You pout, turning to Van. “Do you have anything?”

“That would fit you? Only hotel slippers. Maybe. If I haven’t thrown them out.”

You groan. 

“What’s the problem with the heels?” Van asks.

“They’re uncomfortable!” You complain, but without any other options you start to slip them on.

“You look good in them. They make me feel better, and that’s what’s important,” Van jokes. You scoff at him, envious of his well-worn converse.

Your worries flare up as you and Van head to the Range Rover. He’s wobbly on his feet, and visibly exhausted from the short walk out the front door and into the passenger seat. He’s still shivering with chills, and sweat has already started to bead on his freshly-wiped skin. You’ve never been this sick and not had someone around to take care of you. What would Van have done if you two weren’t friends? Is there another girl in L.A. that could’ve taken your place? Were the boys simply not in L.A., or was Van trying to fool them into believing he was healthy, too?

“Are any of the boys in L.A.?” You decide to ask as you’re waiting for the gate to swing open.

Van shakes his head, rubbing his upper arms through his sweater. “They’re all across the pond.”

“So you were supposed to suffer all alone?”

Van snickers at that. “I’m actually the definition of perfect health right now, thank you very much.” When your own laughter dies down, he shrugs. “Thankfully I have you.”

“But what if you didn’t?” You press. “What if we didn’t know each other?”

The question hangs in a brief, thoughtful silence.

“Suppose I wouldn’t have bothered to come to L.A. in the first place. Would’ve just flown across the pond with them.”

You blink back your shock at his declaration. Was he saying what you thought he was saying?

You can’t think of a good response, and you two decide to sit in a comfortable silence the rest of the drive.

\\

You’d thought about taking Van to one of the local urgent cares, but in the end the hospital is the most viable option. There are plenty of urgent cares on the streets of L.A., not all of them trustworthy, and they’re usually picky about what insurance providers they accept. But Cedars Sinai is only ten minutes away from his place, and you’ve never had insurance issues the few times you’ve been there. 

It takes a while to find a parking spot, especially with the size of the Range Rover.

“Parking this thing is the hardest part of driving it,” You complain, as if this isn’t his car. “I miss my narrow little car.”

“Really? Never bothers me. Guess I’m used to bigger cars, though. We used to haul our equipment around in one of those white vans. That was a hassle to park. Speaking of your car,” He says as he unbuckles, “How is the insurance stuff going?”

You roll your eyes. There’s been an ongoing fiasco involving the other woman’s insurance and their reluctance to declare her at fault, and therefore cover the damages to your car. Your own insurance company assured you it was being handled, but apparently it wasn’t happening very promptly. “Same as always,” You tell Van. “I call them, they say they’re doing the paperwork, whatever.”

To Van’s credit he rolls his eyes at the ridiculousness, as if he’s ever been in a situation where he was desperate for money that was being held hostage by paperwork. 

As you two start the walk across the pavement to the hospital, you suddenly become nervous about the distance. The Range Rover is nestled about as far away as you can be, the grass that borders the outside edge of the parking lots only a few spaces away. You slow down, and in turn Van slows to see what’s causing the hold up.

“Is this walk too far?” You ask him, gesturing behind you to the car. “I can grab a wheelchair if you want.”

You watch Van’s face scrunch in confusion before it relaxes in understanding. His eyes soften.

He shakes his head before flashing you a smile. “I’m not dying. I don’t need a wheelchair.” He holds his hand out for you to hold. “C’mon.”

You pause for a moment before taking the few strides to close the space between you two, taking his hand. He swings it back and forth as you two approach the building. Buildings, really; Cedars Sinai is a huge medical center, a cluster of glossy glass towers that loom over everything in the vicinity. It looked like it’s own city compared to the simple cement hospitals of your hometown. 

As always in L.A., everything is a bustle of activity. Van doesn’t drop your hand when you two enter through the sliding glass doors of the emergency department, although you expected him to. Your fingers stay intertwined until you approach the emergency desk, when Van releases you so that he can tap his fingertips nervously on the cool white marble of the counter.

The woman at the desk takes a moment to type at her computer, still processing something from the family with a crying toddler you’d just seen her send back to start being looked over. When she’s done typing, she swivels away from her computer, looking over the two of you. “What brings you to Cedars Sinai today?”

“I, um,” Van coughs into the elbow of his crewneck. “I’m not feeling well,” He manages through the coughing fit.

“I think he’s got strep,” You interject, knowing she’s waiting for more information. “And a bad fever.”

You see Van’s shoulders tense, but he stays quiet, his cough quieting.

The woman rolls back to face her computer, starting to type. “What’s your first name?”

You open your mouth, the V rolling off of your tongue when Van cuts you off: “Ryan. Last name McCann,” He supplies. “Two n’s.”

You close your mouth, shocked by this information. His name wasn’t Van?

You let Van go through the rest of the check in process on his own. Soon the woman has printed out some paperwork and stands from her seat, gesturing for you two to follow her as she emerges from behind the desk. The wall behind her is lined with glass doors, each one leading to a small holding area for patients. Van is lead to a door with a 6 on the plaque next to it. In room 5 you can see the family that had been in line before you. 

She slides the glass door open, gesturing both of you inside. Van takes a seat on the bed while you sit down on one of the family chairs. 

“I’ve got this for you…” She mutters, and Van holds his arm out as she snaps a hospital bracelet around his wrist. “A nurse will be with you shortly,” She assures him, giving you both a nod and a smile as she leaves the clipboard with Van’s paperwork, closing the sliding door behind her. 

You look around at the space. “This place is so fancy,” You sigh. An individual little room for every single patient waiting on the triage nurse? You had grown up accustomed to curtained off beds. Plus, Cedars Sinai had just remodeled, evident in the shiny new equipment surrounding Van’s bed. 

“It is. Got my own little room here. It’s pretty quiet. Might take a nap.”

“Don’t,” You pout. “I’ll be bored.” You stand up to drag your chair next to the head of the hospital bed, away from where you’re awkwardly sitting by the door.

Once you’ve plopped down, elbows resting comfortably on Van’s mattress, you hold your hands out. “Lemme see your bracelet.”

You expect his right arm to move, but he shows you his left wrist, crossing his arm over his chest to do so.

Your eyes widen in realization as you take the stiff plastic between your fingers for a closer look. “You’re left handed?” You basically shout. 

Van nods, laughing at your reaction. “What’s the big deal?”

“Nothing, I guess. What else don’t I know about you? You’re left handed, your name is fucking Ryan-”

“I told you my name was Ryan the night I met you!” Van argues. 

“No you didn’t! You said Van, like Van Morrison!”

“I said people call me Van! I said Ryan and Mary did some sort of ‘ugh’ thing!”

Mentioning Mary’s reaction does spark a dim memory in the back of your mind. “Okay, whatever,” You surrender. “I was tipsy. I don’t remember. So is Van like, your stage name?”

“No,” Van laughs. “My dad started calling me Van when I was a baby. It just stuck. Nobody calls me Ryan except my mum sometimes.”

“So I shouldn’t be moaning Ryan when we’re having sex?”

If looks could kill, you would drop dead from the glare Van sends your way. “Absolutely not. Never. Ugh.”

You laugh at his seriousness, letting him have his arm back. “What else don’t I know about you?” You hum, considering. Quite a few questions come up, but none of them lighthearted to ask him at this moment. 

As silence lapses over you the door slides open, a nurse entering. She’s rolling a computer with her, clicking away at things. 

“Hi Ryan!” Her voice oozes the kind of practiced patience earned from working with difficult patients all day. “It says here you’re not feeling well.” She’s looking over the clipboard left by the woman at the front desk.

You scoot your chair away from the bed so the nurse can take his vitals, making small talk as she enters the numbers into the computer.

“Definitely running a fever,” She hums when she retrieves the thermometer from under Van’s tongue. “101 degrees, no wonder you’ve got the chills!”

Van looks to you in concern, but you’re too busy giving him your most innocent told-you-so smile. 

The nurse peeks in Van’s throat, marveling at the clear infection that you’d seen, and then procures a folded up hospital gown which she hands over to him. “Get changed into that, and the doctor will be in to see you soon!” She instructs him cheerfully before swiftly moving on to see the next patient.

When you two are alone again, Van turns to you. “What’s 101 degrees?”

“Uh, your temperature,” You tell him smugly, vindicated.

Van rolls his eyes. “I’m aware. I mean what is that in Celsius?”

Shit. Right. Of course Van doesn’t understand Fahrenheit. You unlock your phone, googling it for him. “Normal body temperature is 37 degrees, you’re at 38.7.”

Van cringes at this, realizing how how right you were. 

He shuffles around on the bed, standing up. “Will you pull the curtains closed?” He requests, starting to tug his crewneck over his head. You oblige, shielding him from the people bustling past triage.

“Do I keep my pants on?” He asks you once he’s stripped down to his briefs. You nod, and after he’s tugged the thin fabric of the gown over his front he turns around for you to tie it closed in the back.

You notice he’s still got his necklace on. “Do you always wear that thing?” You ask him as you tie the strings as tight as they’ll go. You can still see Van’s briefs at every slight movement, but it’s the best you can do. He sits back down on the bed, and you lower back into your chair.

“This?” Van pulls the thin gold chain out from underneath his gown, craning his neck to marvel down at the charm on it. “Yeah, I never take it off.”

“What is it? I don’t know that about you either!”

“It’s an heirloom sort of thing. My dad…”

Van trails off as the door slides open again, the same nurse that had just spoken to him coming back in. 

“Long time no see,” She jokes, smiling at both of you in greeting. “The doctor will be by soon, but in the meantime…” She clicks a few things on her computer before continuing. “I was looking over your information, and there are a few things flagged here.”

She steps more fully into the room, rolling the computer with her, before sliding the door closed. You feel yourself tense, sure that it’s time to address the insurance issue.

“It looks like there’s nothing to worry about, and I’m sure your strep test will most likely come out positive, but most of the symptoms you have actually overlap with some common STIs,” She tells Van. “And since we don’t have any record of you as a Cedars Sinai patient, we don’t have a sexual health screening in the system for you. Have you had one recently?”

Van’s eyes flicker towards the ceiling as he tries to remember. “It’s been well over a year. Maybe two, actually.”

“Okay. Have you had any unprotected sex or been with multiple partners in that time?”

Van nods, and you try to decipher what applies to him. The multiple partners, obviously, but what about being unprotected?

The nurse clicks at a few things before turning to Van again. “Would you like a sexual health screening? It’s just some questions and then we’ll get a urine sample from you. It’s totally optional, but it’s quick and we always recommend one.”

Van considers her offer. “How long do the results take?”

“They’re very quick,” The nurse assures him. “Considering you’ll have to wait for the strep swab results, I’ll have the results before you leave tonight.”

Van nods at that. “Yeah, alright. We can do that. Why not?”

“Good choice,” The nurse beams at him. “Now, if Mr. McCann could get some privacy…”

You start to rise from your seat, ready to step out at the nurse’s instruction, but Van gestures for you to sit down again. 

“She’s fine,” He insists, and you hesitate before slowly lowering yourself back down. “I don’t mind.”

The nurse looks between you two, but with Van’s permission she continues on like normal. “Okay, let me pull up the questions…”

She comes closer to his bed, preparing to start interrogating him. “Did your last screening come out clear?” She asks first.

You feel yourself holding your breath for Van’s response.

“Yeah,” He says.

“Alright, so these questions are asking about your sexual health and practices since your last screening. No need to worry about anything before it.”

“Got it,” Van nods. 

From there she starts to cycle through questions. The ones in the beginning are simple enough. Has Van been sexually active with someone that he knows had, or has since been diagnosed with HIV or AIDS? Chlamydia, gonorrhea, herpes, HPV? The list goes on, but to all of them Van says no. You feel yourself relax slightly.

Then the questions circle back to him. Has he ever had a sexually transmitted infection? When he says no, you feel your shoulders droop in relief. 

“Are you currently sexually active?” The nurse hasn’t really been looking at Van, most likely to make things less awkward. She’s more preoccupied with entering his answers into the system.

“I am,” Van tells her. The telltale click of the mouse recording his response.

“Are you having anal sex?”

“No.”

“Vaginal sex?”

“Yes.”

“What about oral sex?”

“Yes.”

You don’t know how Van’s keeping himself so composed. Maybe it’s the fact that those answers apply things you’ve done together, your sex life being examined in tandem with his, that has you blushing in your seat. You cross your legs, hoping you seem less embarrassed than you feel.

“Has the vaginal sex been unprotected?”

“Um. Occasionally,” Van tells her. You bristle.

“And what about the oral sex? Unprotected?”

“Yeah.”

You know it exists, but it feels strange to worry about protection for head. But now that the nurse brings it up, you feel sort of stupid. If you were so worried about Van’s dick that you wouldn’t have sex without a condom, why would you also put it in your mouth? Especially when he’d just confessed to having unprotected sex. You try not to think of the other girl- or girls- he’s doing that with. 

“Almost done,” The nurse tells him. The lights from the computer flicker as she scrolls. “How many partners are you sexually active with currently?”

“Uh, just one.” 

It’s the first time Van hasn’t answered with his usual nonchalance. You avoid looking at him, instead focusing on the nurse. Just one?

“And has that partner had a sexual health screening?”

“Uh…” Van trails off, the blood draining from your face. He turns to look at you. “Have you?”

You sit there in a mortified silence for a moment before you clear your throat. “Yes.”

“And was it clear?”

“Yes.”

“Wonderful,” The nurse pulls away from her computer screen, smiling at you both. There’s the hum of the printer on the cart, and she looks through the cupboards before retrieving a cup for his urine sample, carefully sticking a label to it.

“I’ll have you use the restroom in this,” She hands Van the cup, “And as soon as you come back I’ll take it from you and get started getting those results.”

Van shuffles out of bed, self-consciously using one of his hands to clasp the back of his gown, trying to keep it from opening. He takes the cup in the other hand and offers you a small smile as the nurse tells him where to round the corner to the restroom.

While he’s gone you try to look busy on your phone, attempting to avoid any small talk with the nurse. She doesn’t seem to mind, jotting down a few things on Van’s clipboard. 

When he returns there’s a palpable relief at his presence. He sheepishly offers up the cup of urine to the nurse before returning to the bed. There’s a polite exchange of goodbyes before she hurries along, promising to return with the results.

Alone, the silence is thick between you two. You’re still mentally running through any of Van’s answers that you can recall and trying to calm your embarrassment at having to pipe up during his exam.

When the silence doesn’t break, Van finally sighs. “Have I done something?”

You meet his gaze, alarmed. “No.”

Because technically, he hasn’t. You can’t exactly get upset that he answered the questions truthfully. Plus, being allowed to know the answers at all was a massive privilege. 

“You’re being weird,” Van insists. “It’s because of the unprotected sex thing, isn’t it?”

You sigh, caught. “I mean… Yeah.”

Van goes quiet, and you hurry to fill the space. “I mean, like, you don’t have to justify your answers to me. It’s not like that. I just-”

“It was only a couple of times, with that ex I never got along with.”

It’s nice to have clarity, but frustrating that you feel like you’ve pressured Van into it. “Listen, you really don’t-”

“Will you listen to me?” Van snaps, keeping his voice low. You go quiet.

“I don’t have a problem with you being curious about the shit I’ve said. If I didn’t want you to know about it I would’ve made you leave. If you want to know something, just ask.” He frowns slightly. “I mean, I always answer the shit you ask me. So don’t go all quiet on me, alright?”

“Yeah, alright.” You agree. Then, after a pause: “So when you said you were only sleeping with one person right now-”

With one dubious look Van’s shut you down. You know instantly it’s you. All the worrying over this possible London girlfriend, or someone else hanging around in L.A. can finally be put to rest. 

You laugh at his expression. “Okay, I get it. I’m done.”

Van laughs along with you. “Oh, fuck, your face when I had to ask you about your results.” 

“Please shut up,” You groan, not wanting to relive the moment. “That was so awkward. I hate you.”

\\

It’s an hour and a half wait for the doctor, who takes one look at Van’s throat and decides to test for strep. Van takes it like a champ, his hand clenching the metal rail of his hospital bed so hard you can see his knuckles go white. When the swab is finally pulled from the back of his throat he launches into a coughing fit, sputtering.

The doctor’s gone almost as quick as he came, letting Van know he’ll be back when the rapid test results are ready.

The nurse that had accompanied the doctor and fetched the test- a different one from the woman who’d conducted Van’s sexual health screening- lags behind for a moment to fill a small styrofoam cup with water and offer it over to Van. He takes it gratefully, and once he’s settled again she leaves, too. 

Once you two are alone you reach for Van’s hand, resting limply against his mattress. You know it probably seems strange for you to be so affectionate, but considering all the other lovey impulses you repress around him, you don’t feel bad allowing yourself this.

Van gives you a confused smile, but links his fingers with yours. He goes to set his cup of water aside, but there’s nowhere to put it. You have to separate your hands when he offers it to you.

“Can you set this somewhere?” He requests. There’s no surface available to you, either, so you settle on putting it down on the floor.

Van seems amused at this. “Thanks,” He still says.

You resume holding his hand. “Did it hurt?” You ask him.

Van shrugs with one shoulder. “I mean, not too bad. It’s a mix of an awful tickle and a little bit of a jab. Sort of like pressing your toothbrush too far back. Weird, s’all.”

You’re thinking back on his white knuckles gripping the rail. Van must see the worry that crosses your face because he snaps you out of it. “What?”

“Hm?”

“You’re staring at me.”

“Oh. It seemed like it hurt. You were gripping this hard.” You brush the back of his hand against the metal. 

“Well, yeah. The reflex, you know. I mean, I’m sure you get it when you…” He trails off, unsure of how to word it. He pauses, licks his lips, and continues. “Something in your throat like that, you want to pull away from it.”

You’re aware of what he’s referring to, and nod in understanding. 

There’s more restless waiting, both of you becoming antsy to go home and get some rest. You both jump to attention at the noise of the door sliding open, but it’s the nurse from the screening.

“Alright, we’ve got some results here for a Mr. Ryan McCann,” The nurse double checks the paperwork before thrusting it out to Van. “And it’s all good news. Clean as a whistle.”

At her expression Van beams, his dimples coming through. “Thank you very much,” He tells her as he takes the papers, looking them over.

You find yourself smiling too, watching the nurse clearly become charmed by his gratitude. She’s still smiling slightly as she heads out, wishing both of you a good night on her way. 

“Look at that,” Van marvels, playfully hitting your arm with the papers. You snatch them from him just to surprise him.

“Hey!” He jokes, reaching for them halfheartedly. “Those are confidential!”

You look them over for yourself. “Was there ever any doubt?” You tease. 

“Does it matter?” Van laughs. “I could be celibate for a year and still worry I’m gonna have HIV.”

You let out a belly laugh at that. “That’s how it feels taking pregnancy tests.”

“Yeah, have you taken many of those?” His question sounds borderline serious, but he’s still smiling.

You huff, rolling your eyes. “I meant at the doctors. They almost always have you pee.”

As Van opens his mouth to respond, he’s interrupted by the door sliding open, the doctor returning with the results.

With no surprise, the strep swab comes back positive.

When the insurance matter comes up, everyone scratches their heads at Van’s photos but somehow things work out. The nurses stop asking you two questions when they realize you have no idea what the papers mean, either, and instead carry Van’s phone back to the woman at the desk to get her input on it. There’s another short wait while the doctor goes over Van’s antibiotic schedule, and then you two wait for the discharge paperwork and for the hospital pharmacy to fill the prescriptions, but by 9:30 you two are finally back in the car, headed to your place.

“Do you just want me to run in and change?” You ask him as you pull up to your place. You hover your hand over the key in the ignition, not sure if Van wants to wait here and you should leave the car running for him.

“I mean, we could stay here…” Van suggests hesitantly. “If it’s not too much trouble.”

You shake your head in amusement at his hesitation, shutting the car off. “What is it about you and coming to my place?”

“What about it?”

“You get so strange!” You exclaim, laughing. “You start going ‘um… if it’s okay. If it doesn’t bother you. If you want.’” Your imitation of his accent is getting better by the day.

Van shakes his head at you, reaching to unlock his door. “I don’t know who you’ve got over or what you’re doing this weekend! I’m trying to be polite, but fuck me I guess!” 

You know he’s joking, even though he keeps his voice serious. “I didn’t say you could stay all weekend,” You correct him. “You have to leave tomorrow, actually. I’ve got a date.”

It’s sort of sadistic the way your heart lights up with joy at the way you watch hurt cross over Van’s features, before he looks over at you and realizes you’re joking. You giggle in his face as you unlock the front door, taking advantage of his sickened state to hold the door for him, for once.

“I’m kidding,” You sing song, poking his back as you follow him into the house. “You’re definitely staying all weekend so I can watch over you. No more suffering alone for you.”

It takes Van a few minutes to stop pouting over your joke, but once you’ve gotten him settled into your bed with a glass of ice water and his first dose of antibiotics, all is forgotten. He’s out like a light, exhausted from his hospital visit, but you lay next to him wide awake, listening to him snore.

In the darkness of your room you overthink yourself to death.

Everything with Van was so frustrating! Were you misreading the conversation you two had on the way to the hospital, or had Van literally admitted he only came back to L.A. for you? And if he wants this thing between you two to be casual, why did he lay out his sexual history for you? He even admitted that he’s only been sleeping with you! 

In the end, you think maybe he just doesn’t have the romantic spark for you. He’s even told you that it’s been years since he’s been in love, so it makes sense. It hurts your stomach to think about the day when he’ll find someone that he’s got that chemistry with, and will inevitably end things with you. But for tonight, you remind yourself, he’s in your bed, and that would have to be good enough. 

\\

[beerponglegende-recepten]

kipsalon

dikke kapsalon remake, zin in. is wel soort van gezond dus als je daar niet van hou dan moet je even wat anders uitzoeken, maar is best wel lekker alsnog

ingrediënten:

vega kip

ui

paprika

aardappel schijfjes

komkommer

tomaat

ijsbergsla

knoflooksaus

barbecue saus

olijfolie

kruiden etc. (knoflook poeder, ui poeder, paprika poeder, zout, peper)

geraspte kaas

verwarm de oven voor op 180 graden en vet een ovenschaal in met een beetje olie

bak de aardappel schijfjes met een beetje zout en paprikapoeder

snij de ui en paprika in dunne reepjes

bak deze in een beetje olie

marineer ondertussen de vega kip met olijfolie en de kruiden

doe deze na een paar minuutjes bij de ui en paprika

bak de aardappelschijfjes, ui, paprika, en vega kip voor een paar minuten totdat het gaar is

doe eerst de aardappelschijfjes in de ovenschaal en verveel daarna het ui, paprika, en vega kip mengsel over de aardappelschijfjes

doe eventueel kaas over het mengsel

doe het geheel in de op 180 graden voorverwarmde oven voor 10 tot 15 minuten

snijd ondertussen de tomaat en komkommer in kleine blokjes

eet de kipsalon met de tomaat, komkommer, ijsbergsla, en saus

genieten

oke thats it, very lekker goed voor elke dag wel eigenlijk. niet perse specifiek voor als je harry potter cluedo kaartjes gaat maken ofzo. kan ook gewoon als je dat niet gaat doen joe

[roundtheworldrambles]

Luang Prabang, Laos - Part 1

Day 161 – Chiang Mai, Thailand to Luang Prabang, Laos

In the afternoon, I packed up my bag and hailed a Red Songthaew to Chiang Mai’s airport, boarding a small, propeller plane that would take me to Luang Prabang, Laos. The flight was short, about an hour and a half east, over the mountainous green highlands. The air outside was thick and hazy, caused by smoke from burning farmer’s fields. I learned that between February-April, this was fairly common for northern Thailand and Laos, as farmers burn their fields before reseeding the soil.

Arriving at the small, red roofed airport in Luang Prabang, I quickly passed through customs, paying for my visa on arrival with US dollars. It was an interesting visa experience for me, as the visa application fee varied depending on the home country of the traveller – with Canadians paying the highest amount of any listed country. After doing some research after the fact, it appears that this is based on the reciprocal cost a Laotian would need to pay to visit Canada. Furthermore, the visa costs are also apparently related to the amount of international aid provided to Laos, where citizens of countries which have provided a higher level of aid pay lower visa costs as a result. I had not given much thought to the reciprocity of international visas before my arrival in Laos, and this was an eye-opening, educational experience for me.

As I was negotiating for a ride into town in the arrivals hall, I had the very good fortune of meeting a fellow traveller from San Francisco, Tonya, who was also travelling by herself. We quickly found out that we were also staying at the same guesthouse, and became immediate friends! Sharing a ride into town on a multi-coloured tuk-tuk, we also realized that we had a very similar itinerary planned around Asia for the coming few months! After settling into our hostel for the evening, we headed out into the town as the sun was setting.

Luang Prabang

The small city of Luang Prabang is built on a peninsula at the confluence of the Mekong and Nam Khan Rivers, surrounded by lush green mountains. Now a UNESCO World Heritage site, Luang Prabang was once the capital of the historic Lane Xang Kingdom from the 14th to 16th centuries (also known as the “Kingdom of a Million Elephants”). Luang Prabang was also a historic trade centre in Southeast Asia, given its proximity to the meandering Mekong Rivier, which runs for almost 5,000 km through China, Myanmar, Laos, Thailand, Cambodia, and Vietnam.

Luang Prabang is also known for being the centre for Buddhism in Laos, and has many active temples, or “Vats” scattered throughout the town centre. The town was part of a French protectorate between 1893 and 1954, and the colonial influences of this era can still be seen in the architecture throughout the urban centre. Modern day Luang Prabang showcases traditional and French colonial styles throughout the town. Given the current UNESCO protections, the historic town centre was also remarkably free of the overdevelopment that can come with tourism. It was evident to me that the town had taken great care to protect their cultural heritage and architecture, with conservation and sustainability in mind.

Luang Prabang Night Market

As evening fell, Tonya and I wandered over a short distance to Sisavangvong Road, the main street through the peninsula, which was bustling with a vibrant night market.  The street had been closed off to vehicles and scooters, and there were hundreds of red and blue covered stalls and bamboo mats lining the street, selling countless beautiful and unique wares. There was an incredible collection of handicrafts, ceramics, silks, clothing, antiques and other souvenirs for sale. Many of the items sold were handmade by ethnic groups in the nearby hills, although some stalls also sold cheap, imported trinkets. Overall, the market had a relaxed atmosphere, with the vendors typically waiting for the visitor to inquire about the items rather than making sales pitches. One stall in particular caught my eye – where the trader was selling jewellery and cutlery which were apparently made by recycling fragments of bombs which had been dropped on Laos by the United States during the Vietnam War.

I had no previous knowledge of the bombing campaign in Laos during the war, and was stunned to learn that there were close to 600,000 bombing campaigns in Laos between 1964-1973, with the goal to cut off supply lines along the Ho Chi Minh Trail running into Vietnam. To this day, there are estimated to be almost 80 million unexploded bombs throughout the country, which continue to kill innocent men, women and children who happen to come upon them – near half a century later. It sickened me to think about all of the bombs lying dormant in fields and forests throughout this picturesque, welcoming country.

Tonya and I briefly stopped by a money exchange to switch out our US dollars to Laotian Kip. The local denominations were huge - with banknote amounts ranging between K500 to K100,000. For the remainder of my time in Laos, this made it quite challenging to monitor just how much money I had, as the many “zeros” on the banknotes automatically tricked my brain into thinking I had more money than I actually did!

One of the Many Fresh Smoothie Stands in the Market

We spent the remainder of the evening browsing the night market, sampling spicy Laotian dishes at the food stalls along the street, and enjoying passionfruit smoothies. It was a great first day in Laos, and I was lucky to have equally terrific company with Tonya!

Day 162 – Luang Prabang

After grabbing breakfast at our hostel and befriending a few other travellers, Tonya and I headed out to explore town, passing first through the morning farmer’s market just along the street outside. The vendors start setting up before sunrise, and it was already busy as we walked through around 8:30am. Local produce and the catch-of-the-day were set up for sale on mats on the ground. Ready-to-eat snacks were also for sale, such as charcoal-grilled honeycomb, baelfruit, mung-bean rice cakes, Mok Pa (a dish cooked with catfish caught in the Mekong), Lao Khao Soi, various meats cooked in banana leaf, Khao Jee Pate (a Laotian take on a Banh Mi Baguette sandwich) barbecued frog, water buffalo sausage, coconut milk pancakes, young coconuts, various noodle dishes, and even grilled rat – just to name a few snacks! We enjoyed stolling along the street, chatting with the friendly vendors, and taking in the vibrant colours, sights and smells of the market.

We continued onwards to the bank of the Mekong River, lined with palm and banana trees. Long, shallow river boats churned through the milky brown water below. Beyond the wide, lazy river, we could see lush green mountains in the distance. As we walked along the embankment, various tour operators approached us, trying to sell us tours in these slow riverboats. While we were certainly interested, Tonya and I had done our research on reputable tours, and planned to purchase our trip up the Mekong for the following day.

Drying Orange Robes in a Monastery in Luang Prabang

Turning inland, we began to meander along the quieter streets of town, lined with traditional Lao houses and guesthomes, many of which were constructed with bamboo materials during the colonial period. The UNESCO protections in the town continued to be evident, as there were no high-rise buildings or large tour buses anywhere in the town centre. Tuk-tuks and scooters were by far the most common means of transportation for locals and visitors. As we walked, we occasionally passed some active Buddhist monasteries, and while we could not enter, we could see the laundered orange robes of the monks hanging out to dry.  

Wat Xieng Thong

We visited one of the best-known monasteries in the town centre, Wat Xieng Thong. Dating back to the 16th century, the temple complex housed a gilded ordination hall, with large, sweeping roofs, along with numerous stupas, chapels, a library, a drum tower, and a funeral carriage - historically used to carry the urns of Lao royalty. The architecture throughout Wat Xieng Thong was simply stunning, with every structure richly decorated with engravings, colourful mosaics, paintings, gilding and elaborate sculptures.  

A close-up of mosaics at Wat Xieng Thong

Ready for some shade and bite to eat, Tonya and I headed to the banks of the Nam Khan River, crossing a bamboo footbridge to the far bank. The bamboo bridges of Luang Prabang are built by local families on an annual basis, facilitating the journey to and from the old quarter of the city. Incredibly, though these bridges are solely built from bamboo and rope, they are very sturdy! As visitors to Luang Prabang, Tonya and I paid a small toll to cross the bridge, which contributes to the upkeep and annual bridge replacement.

Bamboo Bridge across the Nam Khan River

On the far banks of the river, we arrived at Dyen Sabai  – a restaurant recommended by a friend of mine from Western, Brandon - who had briefly lived abroad in Laos, and had generously given me all sorts of local recommendations! He had highly recommended that I visit Dyen Sabai for their Lao Buffalo Fondue. The setting was peaceful – Tonya and I sat on low futons at a riverside table, surrounded by a beautiful bamboo garden. The buffalo fondue dish turned out to be cooked in a similar way to Chinese hot pot/Korean BBQ. The servers prepared a small charcoal fire in a metal container built into the table, before placing a specialized cover overtop. This set-up allowed Tonya and I to cook the meat ourselves on the grill and cook the vegetables in the broth. It was a delicious (and interactive!) meal, a recommendation well worth it.

Buffalo Fondue at Dyen Sabai

After lunch, we traversed back over the bridge, and walked along the banks of the Nam Khan river to Utopia, a outdoor bar and bucket-list destination for any backpacker to the area (I think I had about 10 different friends recommend I go!). Tonya and I spent several hours of the late afternoon enjoying several Beer Lao while sitting on the floor cushions, chatting with other travellers and taking in the incredible ambiance of this lively riverside bar.

Nam Khan River

As evening began to fall, we returned to the town centre to climb Mount Phousi for sunset. A small mountain located in the heart of the historic town centre, Phou-si literally translates to “sacred hill”, and stands approximately 100m tall. While it was a bit of a climb to the top, I was happy for the exercise! Along the trail as we ascended were many gilded statues of Buddha, with a small temple and golden stupa at the summit. Arriving just on time for sunset, we took in an incredible 360-degree view of Luang Prabang, the Mekong River shimmering in a deep shade of orange, reflecting the mesmerizing sky above. The distant mountains were blanketed in a smoky haze from the burning of brush and farmers fields.  While the hill was packed with tourists who had the same idea as us – it was still a wonderful way to end a day of exploring the city. Ready to tuck into some more of Laos’ famous street food, Tonya and I returned to the night market along Sisavangvong Road, taking in the brightly lit red and blue booths framed by tall palm trees and the opulent Royal Palace. After sharing and sampling countless delicious dishes, we headed back to our hostel, stopping at a booth on the main road to purchase tickets for our boat trip up the Mekong River the following day. I crashed almost immediately, as I was planning to wake up before dawn to view the morning Almsgiving ceremony, a daily tradition of local Buddhist monks.

Sunset from Mount Phousi