Hundreds of food carts are collected together, bookended by the high-rise condos of George Town. Fronting the North Channel, Gurney is a beehive of culinary action: Steam rises from grills, spatulas scrape woks, oysters nestle in baskets, shrimp paste sizzles in pans, dough spins on a griddle. Chinese letters spill over signs, and little lights on black cords outline the stalls. The scent of burnt sugar mingles in the tropical air. Signs advertise what's to eat: asam laksa, dry meat bread, fresh cockle, century egg, Hokkien prawn mee, rojak, shark-fin soup, ikan bakar, cuttlefish with convolvulus. I don't know what a lot of it means, but the convolvulus definitely sounds inedible.