It's my last day in Viet Nam, and all I want. . .

Is some fucking western food. A cheeseburger, a falafel or maybe. . . .

A Doner Kebab.

My first night in Ha Noi (will give full Ha Noi) update soon I stayed in a heavily touristy area and across the street was a Doner Kebab stand. Full lumps-of-turkey-on-a-spit, with frsh veggies and soft, fluffy bread. I knew at one point I wanted to try a Vietnamese take on Western or just some sort of international food.

But, with all the touring, and the ubiquitous Banh Mi's (sausage, pate and cucmber sandwiches) and Pho Bo (Beef Noodle Soup) and Cha Ca (Fish and scallions fried up in a pan right at your plate) and Spring Rolls, etc. etc. factoring in an opportunity to go back to that one Doner Kebab stand which I very vaguely remember where it was didn't make much sense.

Until today. It's my last day here and I vowed to myself that I would find that Doner Kebab stand. We spent the morning at Ha Noi's fine arts museum which was really nice. I dropped $70 on some artwork to put up in my new apt and don't regret a cent of it. By the end I had the choice of either continuing museum hopping or getting my Kebab. I didn't deliberate for long. I didn't know where I was going, all I knew was the name of the hotel from that night. I told the cyclo-driver: "Golden-Sun Hotel."

He responds: "Hal-hi-son Hotel?" Sure, sounded right. This is the country where if you pronouce one vowel slightly wrong, they have no fucking clue what you're talking about. He drops me at the Harrison Hotel where all the APEC deligates are statying.

Do I look like a fucking APEC deligate? My only choice is to go all the way out to my younger brother's University and meet up with him to look at a map. We haul ass out there and he's not in his room. I wander the streets, hungry, frowning on all the greasy Viet-food stands until I cross paths with a good friend of his from the dorms. We go to his dorm room and start scouring tour books and maps for this phantom Kebab stand. And then I see it:

A review for a bar called the Funky Monkey which was around the corner from the Golden Sun, which was on the same block. . .

My stomach gurgling, I write down the address and hail a cycl0 driver. We turn the corner and there he is: a little Vietnamese dude selling Turkish sandwhiches in Ha Noi.

I buy one with a beer. The bread's warm and fluffy, the veggies are crisp and fresh, the meat. . . a little fatty, but very tasty. I wolf it down and buy another. They're 10,000 VND each. that's 70 cents.

I spend the rest of the afternoon wandering through the district with a stuffed euphpric grin on my stupid American face. That was the most well-deserved, well-enjoyed Doner Kebab I've ever had.