Glenda and I went out to dinner last night at the little restaurant across the street while the rest of the group ate fish and chips or hamburgers and fries at the hotel. This was one of those nights that the tour designates as "on Your Own."
Our guide recommended the restaurant because it " had pictures so we would have some idea of what we were eating. But it didn't seem to help. Our first attempt was for beer. Luckily the man at the table next to ours knew some English and ordered for us. Then came the meal. I decided on something that arrived at the table on a small hibachi. Glenda just pointed to the picture on the opposite page.
Our meals came but no rice. We cupped our hands and tried "rice." This time she understood. We shared our dishes, putting the rice into our bowl and topping it with one of the dishes. Then finished that dish, we added rice and topped it with the next dish. We were pleased one of the dishes was spicy but nothing that we could not handle. Finished, we wandered around the corner to the bakery where we each purchased a moon cake to eat at the upcoming lecture on calligraphy.