I woke up early, the heat of the sun making it too uncomfortably hot to just lay there trying to pretend that the world hadn't already woken up and the sun wasn't already beating down at 8am. I didn't feel quite right and wasn't sure of the reason until I went down to the forth floor (the roof was on the fifth) and the toilet to find that my time of diarrhoea free travelling had ended, hopefully only for a short time. Thanking god for the single western style toilet, it is bad enough waiting for your liquefied insides to empty dramatically from your backside but to do it trying to keep your balance on shaking legs is a step too far, I made my way back up the stairs to our mattresses feeling markedly worse for wear. We decided to spend the day not doing anything which took us far away from the toilet, so Djalma made us a little mattress roof for some shade so we could lie on the roof, enjoying the sea breeze while I tried to hold it together.
 |
| From 1 Aqaba |
I didn't manage that too well, drinking water or anything for that matter made me feel sick and I couldn't eat much either. Aside from breakfast at a local hummus/falafel street restaurant and some rice Djalma forced down my unwilling mouth early evening, I didn't eat much at all. I spent the day traversing the stairs between rest and release and I was absolutely shattered. I slept a fair bit but in-between toilet trips I did manage to stay awake long enough to watch another Top Gear special, the Winter Olympics, which made me chuckle a lot – those guys are fantastic – it's almost as good as a chat with Mum on Skype for curing homesickness. Djalma left at some point in the evening to recharge the computer and send off C/S requests, he came back with a mixed juice – possibly not the best thing for a dodgy tummy - but I drank it down and after one last trip to the loo to wee from my bum, I was back upstairs and asleep.
At about 1.30am I was rudely awoken by some loud dance music from a nearby club, it kept me awake for quite a while, giving me plenty of time to feel sorry for myself and my over-active, under-solid bowels and also time to realise that I had caught the sun quite badly on my face, despite spending all day in the shade. The combination of liquid poo, the stairs, too much sleep, feeling groggy, under eating, dehydration, sun burn and the too warm temperature was just too much and I very selfishly woke my sleeping husband up to tell him how bad I was feeling and that I was worried we were going to run out of water (despite drinking hardly anything). Bless his heart, he woke up the night guard to let him out of the hotel and went to buy some water at silly o'clock in the morning and then came back to comfort me.
 |
| From 1 Aqaba |
No comments:
Post a Comment