Best is a hard tie between a burger from the Bleeker van in London, and pani puri (crunchy pockets filled with curry) from a handcart in Pokhara. Most recently was moo ping (grilled pork skewers) from a stall in Thakek. They weren’t very good which made me sad.

If comfortable with noise was also charted, Japan would top that list as well.

I’ve never experienced such auditory and visual assault as I have there. The busy visitor centre for a national park had a door that chimed when it opened, a little doodad that sung a tinny electronic song every thirty seconds, two televisions with different audio tracks playing about the various peaceful natural wonders you’re about to experience, a vending machine that had a little ditty it would chirp out, the toilet spoke to you, saying what I can only assume to be was “Hello! Thank you for choosing me to take care of you today! I hope you had a good shit! Have a good day!”.