Once upon a time a little backpacker named Julia ate some dodgy things. She travelled boldly across Bolivia, and despite her companion´s insistence that fresh fruit juices, salads and tap water for tooth brushing would be fine, she very sensibly avoided such things and ensured she had her handy medical pack close by at all times.
Such was Julia´s prowess in the medical kit stakes, she was known across hostels far and wide for her supplies, distributing dioralite, Imodium and the likes with a generosity not incomparable to Santa Claus himself. Indeed, the aforementioned ´team poo and puke´ of the salt flats would have been lost without her.
But I digress. Our story begins a fortnight before, a doomed 14 days, where disaster repeatedly struck. Food became the enemy of Julia, and while her traveling companion happily devoured packets of wafers, poor Jules could barely keep a Pringle down. By day 14, having shared a delicious home cooked meal of ratatouille but still feeling awful, Julia admitted defeat. Maybe she should see a doctor.
The doctor arrived at the hostel, not on a white horse but in a small ambulance van, and proceeded to cart Julia and her companion off to ´the clinic´. Here Julia was adorned with a fetching IV and spent her day with her companion playing Monopoly, cards and watching US TV. Her companion had a great time, gorged on the hospital food with relish, and delighted in having a double bed in Julia´s room for a sleepover. In retrospect she was perhaps having too much fun at Julia´s health insurance´s expense.
Julia was a model patient and very brave the whole way through, even eating all her chicken, rice and jelly for dinner. Her companion rather fancied a second helping of jelly so was somewhat disappointed about that. The pair watched a Harry Potter film, scorned CNN reporting, and became obsessed with Project Runway.
The nurses and doctor at the hospital were lovely, and Julia´s knight in shining armour, Direct Line Travel Insurance, was very accommodating in paying for her sojourn. The same cannot be said for the artwork in Julia´s bedroom, it being rather scary for a place of recuperation and health...
The next day, Julia was let loose into the world once more. Armed with even greater medical supplies than before, the traveling duo decided a trip to a local Irish pub might be in order. Such abodes are widely known to have curative qualities, after all. Indeed, it was here they discovered the restorative powers of Irish chicken soup in a Peruvian city.
Chicken soup consumed and ready to face the day, a sudden turn of events occurred, heralded by a white haired, middle aged Australian lady. The Oz looked Julia up and down and politely requested Jules place her in a headlock. She had a crick in her neck, you see, and wanted to do Machu Picchu tomorrow. Could she just squeeze her neck a little to help? No, just a bit tighter than that. A proper headlock, yes that´s right.
Happily, Julia, pumped full of antibiotics, new superpowers and a few hundred litres of weird IV fluid stuff, cured the Australian woman´s neck problems, received a small koala for her troubles, and is now fully on the mend. Happy days.
No comments:
Post a Comment