We decided to pop across the street from the hostel to the little restaurant for some well deserved food. No westeners inside, so that had to be a good thing. It turned out to be one of the most amazing authentic Thai restaurants around. The 'restaurant', when I say restaurant, I basically mean an old man cooking everything at the front in one wok. I ordered a lime and chilli fish soup and Rachel phad thai (original, I know), along with 2 giant singha's to cool us down. All done through pointing at menus. The food, bloody delicious (and man sized portions as well). Spice, sweetness, freshness all in one. The grand total was about a fiver. After our meal we decided to make a dash for it over the road as it was pouring with rain, only for the man who cooked our food (who didn't speak a word of English, and why should he?) to call after us. Uh oh, what have we done? Nothing, but he insisted on walking us over the road with umbrellas so we didn't get wet. What a gent. We then ruined it all by going to one of a million 7 Eleven's on any given street. Ah well.