Yesterday Kelly and I took a 30-minute bus ride to Stanley Market, on the southern side of the island. Word is that this market used to be a great place to find deals but is now too touristy. That's the word on pretty much every place we've been so far, so we tend to just ignore it. The market itself is in a warren of tiny intersecting streets and alleys, and sells the usual trinkets and beads that we've seen at other places. One exciting find - a Salvation Army thrift store. I found a sleeveless men's button-down shirt for Kelly and an embroidered panda bear that looked to have some sort of facial deformity for me, but was prohibited from purchasing either from the holder of the wallet.
Shopping may be poor, but the market's on Stanley Bay, so after exploring a bit you can sit at one of the numerous bars along the promenade and watch boats scoot around the harbor.
Here is Kelly looking very somber at the first bar we stopped at. He looked much happier a few bars later.
This is the "burger" at the third bar we went to, which was really just some plastic tables set out on the sidewalk. This may mark the first time in history that I've left a burger half-eaten. I'm fairly positive that this was not beef. I'm unsure as to exactly what it was.
After several additional beers (I was lobbying for a switch to hard liquor, to kill any parasites I might have ingested with the "burger", but was again denied by the walletholder), we wandered back towards the bus stop. We hopped on the bus and headed back towards town. I allowed drunk Kelly to hold the camera. Here is one from his 45-shot series that I'm pretty sure he calls "Oh My God Ellen Check This Out No I'm Serious Look At This ThisISSOCOOL":
We hadn't been on the bus long when we passed a Thai restaurant on the beach. We hit the button, barreled down from the top deck of the bus, scaring the crap out of the driver, and jumped off. It was a nice place with a pretty view of the beach.
Kelly didn't eat, but I was hungry (after only ingesting half of the "burger") so I had a really good green papaya salad with big chewy chunks of dried shrimp. The meal was greatly enhanced by the old fat white guy sitting near us with his son and daughter-in-law. He gave an enlightening treatise on how "the yellows" have a different business sense from us, and then tried to teach his toddler granddaughter to order "stinky rice" instead of sticky rice. I learned a lot from that man.
Here we are being kind of drunk in the dark on the restaurant patio.
After that we headed home, where I turned in and Kelly stayed up late watching HBO and eating all of the snacks in the house. This is our usual routine.