I am reserved about the cockerel head and the yellow waxy chicken claws in my stew
I am buoyed down by the heat
I am baffled by the ten lanes of motorbikes in the road
I am restless sitting, footweary and confined, in our room with heavily stickered fridge, two toned green paintwork, lemon tasselled curtains, buzzing fluorescent lights and heavily scented orchids in a too big jug.