It’s hard to imagine that your fondness for chicken tikka masala could have anything to do with the next killer pandemic I thought it was a smart looking duck, with a bottle-green head and a white collar separating it from its purplish brown breast, grey-brown wings and light belly.
It was called the mallard; my epidemiologist friend told me that it migrated vast distances every year, stopping to eat and excrete in fields and lakes along the way.
The mallards I was watching were wallowing in rice paddies at the Cambodia-Vietnam border, quacking friendly hellos to the farmyard chickens and ducks also browsing there.