SICKNESS
The at first so constantly blowing wind disappears and our idyllic adventure starts to lose its shine. Flea bites now cover the whole of Thomas Traversa’s body and he has spent another night on the toilet. Gilles is fighting hard to keep control over his stomach; he mostly loses. The lack of sleep must have made him paranoid. He accuses our cook, a shy little girl, of having poisoned him for the disrespectful behaviour of arriving late for dinner. “It happens all the time,” Gilles swears. A virus that is currently spreading through the villages is the more likely reason for our sickness. My symptoms are different to the others. A fever spread across my body and I can hardly walk to the house and eat. The bungalow turns more and more into a sickbay. We exchange paracetamol for charcoal, zinc for Imodium. I rely on an onion-garlic-ginger tea to get me back on track. While Thomas and Gilles are better soon, I don’t feel much change for over a week and consider flying home early. Shortly after this trip the World cup in Denmark will start and at this point I don’t see myself regaining strength. However, this would be logistically basically not possible. The closest city is 8 hours by 4×4 away. The dream trip seems to turn into a nightmare. Only a few hundred miles east is the windsurfing paradise of Mauritius with ultra constant winds, half the travel time and western standards. Why can’t I take the easy road for once and book an all-inclusive vacation?