but staff that jump on you asking in rapid language what sort of fish you want to eat, when really you want to just hide in a corner with a drink for a while!
passing the junction on the way in we'd noticed a tent in the gravel pit we'd eyed up before choosing our spot the previous night, and recognized it as that of the german girls we'd shared the border crossing experience with. sure enough, in one restaurant there they were tucking into chicken and rice (after much effort it seemed this was the only item on the menu, and even that seemed to run out shortly after) so 