Why Don't We Have Nice Things Like This?

There's the one in Chang Mai, Thailand, and one in Vienna, and everywhere in Mexico when the sun goes down but, for whatever reason, I've never seen a night market in the US. Perhaps I don't get out enough. But they're wonderful.



Three kilometers from our hotel sits a piece of land transformed into a kind of Indian respite. It's got vendors of all types, of course, from woodwork to stone to ceramics and textiles and artwork. It's also got rides for kids, a paddle boat pond, and a crafts museum. And it's got good street food. Hyderabadi cuisine leans toward the fiery hot, which is perfectly okay by me, and you can't really imperil yourself with the samosas, which are double-fried to remove anything nasty. Of course, they're double-fried, so take your pick: cholesterol or gastrointestinal distress.



Anyway, it looks like an amusement park. Right next door is the outdoor mall, which looks like Orlando. And out front is the rickshaw stand, which was another opportunity to scare the pants off Joe, who is not accustomed to that mode of transport.