Today started quite mundanely.... I had a lift down to the gym early with Judy, who then kindly took me into town to a couple of shops I hadn't been to before. Great excitement as I finally managed to source a tin opener, some kitchen cloths and some sultanas. I really was ecstatic and isn't that just a sign of how little time is needed to re-set your expectations.
Tonight promised to be something a little special... Madang is home to only a handful of restaurants, almost all of which are located within the compound of some larger body such as the Lodge, the Club or the Resort, but for Bruno's birthday we had chosen, and even booked... to go to the new Chinese restaurant in the heart of town. We were actually congratulating ourselves jokingly on being 'scene-setters' by checking out this brand new place that most people hadn't even heard of. Getting there was interesting as usual, given that there were 6 of us squishing into a car built for 4 or 5 but that was fine. At least it was fine, until we were heading along the main road in the dark and I noticed that there were two sets of headlights rather than one coming towards us. Thankfully I screamed, as that gave Sarah enough notice to swerve off the road and avoid the oncoming, speeding bus: by a whisker. If you know me, you know that I have already been in more than enough traffic accidents for several lifetimes, so I was heartily relieved to avoid another.
So, an auspicious start! We arrived at the restaurant which didn't look that hot from the outside but you don't judge a book by its cover here, so as Sarah and Bruno (as male 'escort' for safety) went off to pick up another person nearby, the four of us trooped past the 2 guards who somewhat reluctantly (hindsight is great!) opened the metal grid gate for us.
I was first to walk in, but my view of the room was restricted by the angle of the entrance. The change in the noise level as I entered and the fact that the first man whose eyes I met immediately uttered the word, 'Sorry," did not make for a particularly promising first impression. As I turned to survey the whole space, I realised that 'restaurant' was probably an inaccurate term, and that the correct one was perhaps 'semi-legal drinking den reserved for serious crowd of hard-drinking PNG men during an official alcohol ban where only premises ostensibly serving food are licensed to also serve grog'. A snappy title, so it baffles me why the owners chose to write 'Deng Fang Restaurant' on the sign outside.
Our crocodile procession of four women (the only female customers in the whole establishment - no great shock there) walked through the increasingly raucous crowd to be led to the side room which was to serve us for the evening. We must have made quite a sight: me at the front, then two slim and slender, positively 'elphin' women, one from Malaysia, one from Melbourne, and the rear brought up by a PNG woman of presence with formidable dreadlocks. We made it through the catcalls and 'Hello darlings' and grabbing hands to reach our sanctuary... a drab, dirty, windlowless room with two wobbly tables, some plastic chairs, malfunctioning AC, a couple of filthy tablecloths, and one tiny clock as wall decoration, hung 3 metres above the ground.
As we sat wondering just how many Michelin stars the place would warrant, and fervently hoping the other three including one man (see - useful!) would show up soon.... we decided to avail ourselves of the refreshments. Did they have any wine, em... no. Any soda water? No, sorry. Any ginger beer? Ok beers all round! The service at least was excellent, as we only had to send the incorrect drinks back once, and only once did we have to call the waitress back to request that she open the non-screw top bottles for us. Her surprise at this suggested strongly that the more regular patrons use their teeth.
The others arrived soon afterwards, bringing our number to a magnificent seven which immediately felt much safer. And we had a man! After a few inquiries, it became clear that food wasn't the top item on the menu here, and in fact that nobody apart from us was likely to be eating at all, but we were reassured that the police always came by at 8 or 8.30 and would chuck everybody else out. After which of course, it would transform into the sort of establishment Gordon Ramsay would be proud to put his name to... and, even my short time here has already taught me not to feel reassured at the prospect of the police turning up.
After a couple of attempts by some of our number (not me) to put a brave face on it, we agreed to cut our losses and get out of Dodge. As we now had seven people to fit in the one car, we entertained for a (very) brief moment the idea of leaving in two shifts but quickly decided that squishing 7 in was a preferable option. Running the gauntlet to leave was also a memorable experience I have no desire to repeat. Let's just say, I know where to get a date in Madang if I need one.
So.... all of a sudden, the plastic axe I had bought Bruno as a joke for his birthday suddenly seemed prescient... just a part of the fabric of life in the Land of the Unexpected!
PS - we hid the axe on the way out of the 'restaurant' in case it was seen as an act of provocation...
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