Misadventure Memoirs

I made it to Seville unscathed, woo hoo…I truly thought I had dodged the bullet that took down so many of my compatriot travellers, but no….my gizzards have now also suffered the horrendous fate wrought by some plotting, microscopic pathogen. 😖😄

Here I was, sharing cautionary advice about salads and cut fruit during the preceding days, before common sense escaped me and I let my own handbrake off! 😏 I can’t pinpoint whether it was the washed grapes at lunch in the Fez market (which I assiduously wiped clean and dry with a serviette) or the rather ‘gamey’ tasting baked eggs at the brekky buffet in the hotel (which I only swallowed one mouthful of before deciding they were horrid).  Either way, havoc is occurring in my alimentary canal!

In my fevered dreams I imagine them, Cryppy and Pylo, having conversations about the success of their relative missions as they lurk in small puddles of excess oil in the breakfast scrambled eggs. Longing for a host of their own, they’ve witnessed the pool of their kind thin out over the last 24 hrs as scores of them have been scooped up by unsuspecting humans:

C: “I’ve got a good feeling about tonight mate. I’ve set up camp with some other families in the green peppercorn sauce to accompany the lamb chops and I reckon I’m onto a winner!”

P: “Good for you buddy! You’ve always been an adventurous spirit and I wish you all the luck in the world!” I’m staying in the scrambos, hoping for an indiscriminate fatty at brekky. I play the averages, as you know, and I think my best chance is this monster that I’ve spotted for a couple of mornings running, peering down at me with distrust. Today i’ll reel her in for sure!”

And he got me good!

I don’t think I’ve ever been so sick for so long! This is the third day and the pains in my  gurgling stomach with resulting bum wees don’t seem to be abating at all! 😳 Every organ in my body is in strife. It feels like I’ve been set upon by a gang of thugs and received a severe kicking. My kidneys ache and my stomach is wrenched and twisted.

Yesterday afternoon at 2pm, Col and I had tickets to visit the Real Alcazar, so, with me in firm denial about my gastrointestinal affliction, and following a delicious lunch of gazpacho accompanied by a glass of rioja, we queued for entry about 15 minutes early. By the time we got to the front of the queue, I knew I couldn’t do it. 

I stayed in the shady entry area sitting on a marble bench while I insisted that Col at least whip around and see it. Mistake! Nearly passed out a couple of times, gripping stomach pains, severe nausea…so desperate to get an Uber back to our hotel we tried to go out the ‘In’ and got shouted at! In bed by 3pm, not to move (except for frequent trips to the toilet 😳) until 8am today! And, despite being 38 degrees yesterday, I shivered so much during the afternoon/evening that I needed to drag a doona down out of the wardrobe and wrap myself up in it. 

Shit eh! (Literally).

Footnote: The daily regime of compulsory dried fruit is temporarily suspended for obvious reasons. 😳