Kamphaeng Phet. Photo: Stephen Gregory
There’s a centipede in my drink. It’s a bottle of Thai whisky with a centipede nearly six inches long swirling in its oily, green depths.
I drink a glass of the pungent liquid. People clap and cheer and slap me on the back. And there’s karaoke. Our son is singing in Thai. We’re celebrating the arrival of his baby, our Thai granddaughter.
The whisky is fine, once I’ve swallowed it down and my throat has stopped burning. I’m inclined to try a second swig and even challenge my hosts to share a crunchy morsel of centipede, but my wife intervenes just in time. I drink a few bottles of Chang Beer instead.
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- Tags: Issue 32, Stephen Gregory, Thailand