While Al napped on, I decided to re-introduce my running legs to that vague and distant past time. Somehow I forgot to think about a. the humidity, b. the fact that not only cars occupy the street but also cows, ox carts, trishaws, more dogs, more cows and occasional drove of people and c. the monsoon. All three entities struck in one crippling blow this morning and I returned a panting, sopping, sweaty mass, the approximate shade of the setting sun. My strawberries and cream this afternoon seemed very well deserved.
Strawberries and cream were just one of the many strawberries and ________ (fill in blank with whatever you so desire) that were options at the new little restaurant (?) we discovered this afternoon. A restaurant devoted solely to strawberries. No joke. From strawberry picture frames to strawberry pancakes to strawberry table clothes to a larger-than-life wall hanging on the history of the strawberry, it was all there.
Four of us girls sat down and partook in all that was strawberry and it was just…peachy.
In other news, Al had an adventure on the scooter today. Needing to change money, she was introduced not only to the joys of Sri Lankan banks and Sri Lankan rupees, but to the joys of bumping along on the back of a bajaj scooter – its sturdiness equal to none.
We will stop now, on account of being on the brink of starvation…starvation tends to cramp my writing style some. Arabic food, for the win.