When you only have two hours in the city, you don’t freaking dilly dally. As the rain went pitter-patter on the ground, my heart went thud, thud, thud as I half-wondered if I could remember where Sri Lanka Kumamoto was located.

I needn’t have worried. Some things are already imprinted in my mind.
Infectious ethnic music played in the background, only to be drowned by the rhythmic swish-swosh sound of the chef using his stir-fry spatula to whip the dishes into shape.