“Don’t drink that shit!” he said, aghast. I assured him that it was not for drinking. He glared at the hazy liquid wide-eyed, as though it might explode.
As for the $2.50 Tiger vodka, the label, peeling at the edges, declared the brew a “smooth and mellow” product of Xaymoungkhoun Village, near Vientiane, and 40 per cent alcohol.
The screw-cap did not have a tamper-evident ring – an immediate concern. It smelled like vodka. Sort of. A gentle whiff brought an involuntary shudder and prickles to even this reasonably seasoned partaker of the cheap stuff.
But if it was methanol, a lethal form of alcohol that killed the six tourists and made a dozen or so violently ill, it probably came from the homebrew (I sampled neither it nor…
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