On my way from the gym

My gym is next door.  But to get there, the architects of this complex designed a virtual rat maze between my apartment and the weight room.

Every day I go out the door, down the hall, down 13 floors, out the elavator, around the corner, up another elavator, turn the corner, down the hall, make a right, up the corridor to the gym.  Got that?

Anyway, I usually try to get there at 6:00am so I can get my workout done, which generally means I'm finished no later than 7.  As I make my way back through the rat maze, toward the first elavator, there are always four or five plastic bags outside a door directly across from the lift.

This also happens to be the back door to the "My Way" Restaurant, a chain of eatery's here in Hanoi which serves mostly western-style Vietnamese dishes and a funky green papaya salad.  But that's another story.  It's a pretty big restaurant.

The funny thing is that these four or five plastic bags aren't linen or last night's garbage.  They're the days vegetables.

Potates, carrots, greens.

Every day.  Bags of vegetables.  Delivered fresh off the farm.  By scooter, no doubt.