Hairy noodles

I stop for a noodle in the Klong Toey fresh market every night before work.

A husband and wife couple make mi keow (thin noodles, with mince pork in small envelopes made of wheat dough) from a stall next to a 7-11 shop.

Sometimes I eat in near darkness, because the 7-11 refuses to turn on the outside light.

Lately, I am overcome by the smell of sewage from a nearby drain.

I wave my hand in front of my nose, to keep away the fumes. When the owner sees me, he gets out his broom and sweeps away water from the drain.

Over the last few months, I have noticed customers falling away, perhaps because of the smell, and the lack of light.

Meanwhile, five metres away, a new stall has opened selling rad na (stir-fried wide noodles, with gravy).

This place sets out bright red metal tables with smart plastic tablecloths. It looks inviting, and is becoming popular. One handsome boy from my office even eats there.

Once I asked the thin-noodle man why his noodles were 25 baht, and not 20 baht like other places.

'We have four kids,' he said.

I felt sorry for him, so I became a loyal customer. I started eating there five night a week.

I know he has many mouths to feed, but would he mind if I crossed the road to eat at the rad na stall instead?

It's not far away. From the small-noodle place, they could probably see me, eating my plate of rad na.

It looks smarter, is better lit, and has no smell.

However, it is still new. If the owners go out of business, could I go back to the smelly noodle place with my head held high?

The couple with four kids who run their shop by the drain should move their stall, or risk going out of business themselves. The smell is unbearable.

Some nights I see rats scuttling from the thin-noodle place, across the road to the new rad na stall. That doesn't look promising.

They don't tell you about such things in the tourist guides to Bangkok.

'Sample the delights of a Thai fresh market!

Ever seen that?

Nor have I.