Night Bazaar

Or should I say night bizarre. Only if I want to beat Richard Whitely for worst puns in a year. Still he's dead now, so I can take my time. Anyway, Chiang Mai's famous night bazaar is made up of stalls along every available inch of footpath over several city blocks. Stall after stall of exotic and fabulous trinkets and plenty of mundane crap too. But even the crap's not so bad, at the very least it makes the exotic stuff all the more special.
As I stood there for the first time, I felt like Marco Polo must have, as he discovered the silk road in China. Rows of exotic silks, in every conceivable colour. Strange and wonderful incenses filling my head with images of the mysterious orient. Wicked and evil weapons in racks that would make Tomás de Torquemada cringe. A bouquet of cheap, knock off watches at give away prices. Yep, exactly the same as Marco Polo. Well known for his discount Tag Heuer's he was, when he got back from China.
So, while I am filling my head with all sort of delusions of grandeur, a fairly well used hooker interrupts to talk to me about whatever the fuck hookers use as small talk. I said, "do you mind? I'm trying to have a poetic moment here!" She says, "Poet? Yes. Like Oscar Wilde. He fuck arses. You fuck my arse. 200 Baht" Well, god loves a tryer. Nah, I'm just kidding about the hooker.....she only wanted 100 baht.