Why would you commit suicide in a bookshop ?
Not that I think about these things a lot, but even if I did, I don’t think it would ever enter my brain to kill myself in a bookshop.
But some people have other ideas, clearly. A couple of days ago, a customer jumped of the top floor of one of the nearby branches of the bookshop I work for. The staircase was several floors high, and he fell through the middle to land on the ground in the basement. He didn’t even die immediately, but only later in hospital. A horrible, horrible way to go. Also a nightmare for the shop employees, who had to get all the other customers out of the place, while trying not to have too many see the body.
When the boss told us in a meeting, I was quite surprised: it would just never occur to me to link suicide and bookshops. But my collegues who have worked for the company a while were all totally blasé….it seems this actually happens quite a lot! This was about the 6th suicide at that particular branch! Mainly it has been customers who have jumped of the staircase, but the last one was actually an employee, apparently after a fight.
I cant imagine what could depress a person so much that they would feel they had no alternative but to commit such a drastic and final act.
27.4.07
18.4.07
england
Reluctantly, i am back in england now, and under great pressure to finish my chapter, hopefully before the end of this week. I arrived from Muscat and had to almost immediately stumble into work, where everyone was busy preparing a new campaign, which I have to admit is a pretty exciting one. So I spent my first days back busily arranging and rearranging tables and posters in an attempt to make everything look good. There are some really interesting fiction books on offer right now, I only wish I had the time to read them all. I don’t though, I am starting to stress over my dissertation, as I suppose I should.
At least the weather is good though. Since I got back It has been amazingly sunny and warm. Not quite as pleasant as it was in Mumbai or Muscat, but better than it could have been. The only down side of the weather is that I cant really go out and enjoy, stuck as I am most days, behind my till….13.4.07
incredible oman revisited
One of the best decisions of the trip was to fly through Oman. When we were booking tickets, we had a choice of stopping over in Muscat or Frankfurt. No disrespect to Germany, but there was really no contest there. So we had a free stop over in Oman both going and coming from India. It was definitely worth it. I knew practically nothing about the country when I booked my ticket, but it proved to be one of the most beautiful and strange places I have seen in my life. I am not a nature person, but the scenery was absolutely stunning. There are mountains everywhere. Muscat itself is a long and narrow city boxed in by the coast on one side and the mountains on the other. The buildings are white and everything is immaculately clean. Some of the pavements were so clean and shiny I could see my own reflection in them.
The resorts proved to be even more incredible. The Arabian sea is so clean that even a few kilometres from the capital city, I could walk out in the water up to my chest, and still look down and see straight down to the sand and shells at my feet. The sky and water were a clean, pure blue…..and it was HOT. Our last day there it was 39 degrees. On the beach, it felt very pleasant, since there was a breeze coming of the sea, but when you put your foot on the sand, from 11am, it was painful. The sand was so hot it felt like it would take all the skin off your foot. But then, I just headed over to the pool for a cool swim…..an incredible place, oman.
The resorts proved to be even more incredible. The Arabian sea is so clean that even a few kilometres from the capital city, I could walk out in the water up to my chest, and still look down and see straight down to the sand and shells at my feet. The sky and water were a clean, pure blue…..and it was HOT. Our last day there it was 39 degrees. On the beach, it felt very pleasant, since there was a breeze coming of the sea, but when you put your foot on the sand, from 11am, it was painful. The sand was so hot it felt like it would take all the skin off your foot. But then, I just headed over to the pool for a cool swim…..an incredible place, oman.
mumbai
Our last evening in India was spent in Mumbai. I definitely will have to go back to that city, I didn’t get to see all the things I wanted to, never mind the numerous wonders about which I am probably unaware. Aaron claims Mumbai is his definition of hell. He hates absolutely every part of living here, or so it would seem. I suppose then I have strange taste, as I really enjoyed the place. Of course, I can see why it could be draining in certain ways, but no more than many other places. I loved the chaos and constant movement everywhere. Mumbai is a city of taxis. It is the best way to get around, unless you are brave enough to attempt a motorbike or willing to get squashed on the over-ground trains. Traffic is heavy and mumbaikers complain of long commutes. But actually, I thought the traffic was no more than in Moscow, and far less than in Washington DC. I never noticed the time passing in the taxis; I spent my commutes watching everything happening out the window, fascinating stuff.
In addition to the taxis on the list of random things in Mumbai I liked, I would have to add the newspapers and their obsession with Bollywood stars. The city is crazy for its cinema industry, the largest on the planet. I saw a couple of films in India, they were both cheesy, as Bollywood films tend to be. The basic idea being that the Indian family is indestructible, and love conquers all. But at the same time, they were very sweet, sort of like American films from the 1950s, but more colourful and with better music and dance routines. Going to the cinema in Mumbai costs relatively little, about 1 pound a film (at the Regal, one of the best air-conditioned places in the city). There is normally an intermission in the middle, a brilliant idea for the weak bladdered, I wish it could be extended to the rest of the planet. Meanwhile, the newspapers follow the national trend by obsessing over Bollywood’s favourites. The famous page three of the paper is filled with nothing but gossip about who is doing what with whom in the cinema world, and apparently people struggle to get a page three spot, a sign of success in Bollywood. The television is little different. In almost every restaurant we went to, there was a tv with the latest news on the love life of Shilpa Shetty of Arishwaya Rai.
On our last night, we went to a neighbourhood where Aaron had once lived, when he arrived about a year ago. It was a labyrinth of narrow winding streets, with a lake in the middle. After that, we headed to a restaurant specialising in Mogul food. I ordered spicy cheese dish, followed by Indian ice cream. It was great (second in my opinion to the incredible food at the Taj). From there we moved on to a shesha bar on a rooftop in Bandra, where we enjoyed shesha and mocktails, while reclining on pillows. It was a great trip.
In addition to the taxis on the list of random things in Mumbai I liked, I would have to add the newspapers and their obsession with Bollywood stars. The city is crazy for its cinema industry, the largest on the planet. I saw a couple of films in India, they were both cheesy, as Bollywood films tend to be. The basic idea being that the Indian family is indestructible, and love conquers all. But at the same time, they were very sweet, sort of like American films from the 1950s, but more colourful and with better music and dance routines. Going to the cinema in Mumbai costs relatively little, about 1 pound a film (at the Regal, one of the best air-conditioned places in the city). There is normally an intermission in the middle, a brilliant idea for the weak bladdered, I wish it could be extended to the rest of the planet. Meanwhile, the newspapers follow the national trend by obsessing over Bollywood’s favourites. The famous page three of the paper is filled with nothing but gossip about who is doing what with whom in the cinema world, and apparently people struggle to get a page three spot, a sign of success in Bollywood. The television is little different. In almost every restaurant we went to, there was a tv with the latest news on the love life of Shilpa Shetty of Arishwaya Rai.
On our last night, we went to a neighbourhood where Aaron had once lived, when he arrived about a year ago. It was a labyrinth of narrow winding streets, with a lake in the middle. After that, we headed to a restaurant specialising in Mogul food. I ordered spicy cheese dish, followed by Indian ice cream. It was great (second in my opinion to the incredible food at the Taj). From there we moved on to a shesha bar on a rooftop in Bandra, where we enjoyed shesha and mocktails, while reclining on pillows. It was a great trip.
alibaug
This village once, a few centuries ago, had the audacity to invade Mumbai. They were repulsed, and if the present state of things is any reflection of the past, I can see why and how.
Alibaug is a shithole of nothingness. It is about an hour and a half from Mumbai by boat, it would probably be even less if you could find a boat to take you whose engine wasn’t prone to breaking down. Despite its proximity, however, it appears to be on another planet. It is ignored in the guidebooks, neither my time out nor max’s lonely planet made mention of the place. Indians from Mumbai apparently go there to relax, at least so Aaron’s friends claimed. I suppose if nature is your thing, it must be a relaxing place: there is absolutely NOTHING going on in that place. It is a village that seems completely lost in the wilderness. As we drove around in our rented rickshaw, people waved and ran after us, asking to be photographed with us. The people were very kind and anxious to show us the best of alibaug, which consisted of a “museum” (a house with a few statues) and a “resort” (a building with a few hammocks that served some lethal looking food). The rickshaw driver didn’t even get angry with Aaron, who stole his rickshaw for a good 15 minutes.
I am not really a nature person. I spent my childhood in terror of having to go for a weekend to someone’s dacha. There is nothing I hate to sit on more than fresh, clean grass. So, needless to say, I was quite relieved to get back to the urban civilisation of Mumbai.
Alibaug is a shithole of nothingness. It is about an hour and a half from Mumbai by boat, it would probably be even less if you could find a boat to take you whose engine wasn’t prone to breaking down. Despite its proximity, however, it appears to be on another planet. It is ignored in the guidebooks, neither my time out nor max’s lonely planet made mention of the place. Indians from Mumbai apparently go there to relax, at least so Aaron’s friends claimed. I suppose if nature is your thing, it must be a relaxing place: there is absolutely NOTHING going on in that place. It is a village that seems completely lost in the wilderness. As we drove around in our rented rickshaw, people waved and ran after us, asking to be photographed with us. The people were very kind and anxious to show us the best of alibaug, which consisted of a “museum” (a house with a few statues) and a “resort” (a building with a few hammocks that served some lethal looking food). The rickshaw driver didn’t even get angry with Aaron, who stole his rickshaw for a good 15 minutes.
I am not really a nature person. I spent my childhood in terror of having to go for a weekend to someone’s dacha. There is nothing I hate to sit on more than fresh, clean grass. So, needless to say, I was quite relieved to get back to the urban civilisation of Mumbai.
9.4.07
80s pop
what is with night clubs, bars, and restaurants around the developing world and their endless devotion to cheesy 80s pop? the bars and clubs in anjuna that cater to foreign tourist play goa-trance music, which i quite like. max and i end went back to the same roof top bar so he could get another space cake (which led to him passing out for about 6 hours on a lawn chair by the pool) and that place played trance, chill-out and lounge music, including a wierd but cool disc that was an interesting fusion of rap and trance.
but those are the tourist places. walk into an indian place here and the music changes. the indian place accross the road last night treated us to bon jovi, ah-ha, chicago, and what ever the group was that made that song "i come from a land down under..." i think everyone of these songs came out before i was 10. the place we went for a drink last night had a guy playing lionel richie hits on an electric key board.
and india isnt unique in this. i have been to bars in caracas and ciaro with the same music taste: anglo-saxon 80s pop. i dont get, with so much better choice out there, why this devotion to the 80s? it was a terrible time, for music as for everything else. any ideas?
but those are the tourist places. walk into an indian place here and the music changes. the indian place accross the road last night treated us to bon jovi, ah-ha, chicago, and what ever the group was that made that song "i come from a land down under..." i think everyone of these songs came out before i was 10. the place we went for a drink last night had a guy playing lionel richie hits on an electric key board.
and india isnt unique in this. i have been to bars in caracas and ciaro with the same music taste: anglo-saxon 80s pop. i dont get, with so much better choice out there, why this devotion to the 80s? it was a terrible time, for music as for everything else. any ideas?
8.4.07
damaged souls
i am not in anjuna, goa. this is the place where goa gil settled in the early 70s, and started experimenting with the music that became the goa-trance that you hear now all over europe. it is also where colonies of not-terribly-welcome nudists set up camp, also in the 70s. there are still clubs and raves often, particularly for christmas and new years, but not like in the 70s and late 90s.
the town itself isnt much. there are lots of resort style places and dodgy beach bars that look more like something you would find in cameroon or gabon than in asia. last night we went to a street market that was one of the largest and wierdest i had ever seen. it was huge and stretched up a hill. the stalls were run by both europeans and indians and sold everything you could imagine from bedding to jewellry. i got some pirate cds, but nothing else. still it was interesting to see, more like a museum than a shopping experiience.
this is also the place where it seems damaged souls come to hide and slowly die. yesterday max and i wandered into a rooftop bar. it turned out the bars one and only edible specialty was "space cake" with each portion containing 1 gram of hash. i declined, but max ate up (and rapidly fell into a stupor on some pillows where he remained for a good 3 hours). this left me to make conversation with the bar owners, two odd characters. assuming i was south african, the first guy started telling me his life story. he spent 3 years shooting heroin in johannesburg, and dealing for a gang of nigerians. he filled me in on the cost of everything in south africa, and on the african power structure there: nigerians are straight players, they give you what they say they will give you and they regulate themselves. if they mess up or cheat, they are punished by their own bosses, kenyans are all students. their villages save up to send one bright guy abroad to study. he then has to return and work for the village to pay of his debt. tanzanians you meet abroad are crooks. rather than jailing them, the government gives them a passport and a choice of 5 countries or so they can go to, with the order not to come back for 10 years, it is cheaper than jail....at least that is what this guy claimed.
anyway, after 3 years in jo'burg, he got deported back to britain. nothing happened to him there. he applied for a new passport and set off for india, funded by nigerians. he claims he has been here in goa 12 years. it could be true, god only knows. he has no teeth. the one in his mouth were fake, he took them out to prove it, and it was true, the guy has not a single tooth left. he will never go back to europe, he knows he will never get a job. he will rot here, rather rapidly given his present state. his conversation wasnt always coherent, he was high as a kite and smoking the whole while. at one point he stopped to give me a 15 minute lecture apparently aimed at convincing me i could cook. he spouted off recipes faster than my brain could process them, telling me how to prepare everything from rissotto to various indian dishes. his friend was equally strange, just not so talkative. he had also done time some where, but i didnt get the whole story.
finally max woke and we went to dinner.
the town itself isnt much. there are lots of resort style places and dodgy beach bars that look more like something you would find in cameroon or gabon than in asia. last night we went to a street market that was one of the largest and wierdest i had ever seen. it was huge and stretched up a hill. the stalls were run by both europeans and indians and sold everything you could imagine from bedding to jewellry. i got some pirate cds, but nothing else. still it was interesting to see, more like a museum than a shopping experiience.
this is also the place where it seems damaged souls come to hide and slowly die. yesterday max and i wandered into a rooftop bar. it turned out the bars one and only edible specialty was "space cake" with each portion containing 1 gram of hash. i declined, but max ate up (and rapidly fell into a stupor on some pillows where he remained for a good 3 hours). this left me to make conversation with the bar owners, two odd characters. assuming i was south african, the first guy started telling me his life story. he spent 3 years shooting heroin in johannesburg, and dealing for a gang of nigerians. he filled me in on the cost of everything in south africa, and on the african power structure there: nigerians are straight players, they give you what they say they will give you and they regulate themselves. if they mess up or cheat, they are punished by their own bosses, kenyans are all students. their villages save up to send one bright guy abroad to study. he then has to return and work for the village to pay of his debt. tanzanians you meet abroad are crooks. rather than jailing them, the government gives them a passport and a choice of 5 countries or so they can go to, with the order not to come back for 10 years, it is cheaper than jail....at least that is what this guy claimed.
anyway, after 3 years in jo'burg, he got deported back to britain. nothing happened to him there. he applied for a new passport and set off for india, funded by nigerians. he claims he has been here in goa 12 years. it could be true, god only knows. he has no teeth. the one in his mouth were fake, he took them out to prove it, and it was true, the guy has not a single tooth left. he will never go back to europe, he knows he will never get a job. he will rot here, rather rapidly given his present state. his conversation wasnt always coherent, he was high as a kite and smoking the whole while. at one point he stopped to give me a 15 minute lecture apparently aimed at convincing me i could cook. he spouted off recipes faster than my brain could process them, telling me how to prepare everything from rissotto to various indian dishes. his friend was equally strange, just not so talkative. he had also done time some where, but i didnt get the whole story.
finally max woke and we went to dinner.
7.4.07
animals and food
there really are animals everywhere here. i have seen elephants, numerous cows, cats and dogs today. nevermind the rats, which are too many to count. the cows in particular march down the street unhindered by the motorcycles and cars. now one goes near them. the dogs sleep in potholes along the side of the road or in ditches. they look hot and uncomfortable. the cas slink around hunting the rats, as cats do everywhere. the elephants are just wierd.
then there are the people. they occupy every space of mumbai. they sleep on sidewalks, in ditches, under pieces of cardboard. millions live in slums, which are highly organised an mafia controlled for the most part. one hut in a slum costs around 2,000 euros. the stench near the slum latrines is incredible, it stays in your nostrils after you have left. but then, these are hardly proper latrines, people just shit in the open in a designated area.
yesterday we went to what we were told was "laundry washing slum", which turned out to be exactly that: a huge slum where people did laundry. there were people beating clothes in cubes of water and on rocks as far as the eye could see. once this was done, the clean clothes were hung out to dry in the breeze on strings hung high up above the slum. i was amazed, there was so much visually to take in that i didnt fell i was seeing more than a small portion.
in addition to the slums, there are massive houses where the wealthy live. there are millionaires business men here, like in russia, who live like terrestrial gods. we saw some eating brunch at the taj. when they walked in, several people from the restraunt came to bow and greet them. one accidentally dropped his fork and a whole team of waiters came running (literally) to pick it up and give the man a new one. aaron , max and i got completely ignored for the hour or so the millionaires were there, the whole staff focussed on them exclusively. then there are the bollywood stars, who also live on another planet. they live in wealthy suburbs and drive around in chauffer-driven cars. aaron says one of them recently got drunk and killed 6 slum dwellers when his car went onto the pavement. the verdict? the people shouldnt have been on the pavement when such a god was passing!
meanwhile, the food is consistantly good. i havent yet found anything that tasted bad, although the food at the taj tasted by far best of all....and the drinks at the dome were in a league of their own.
in preparation for india i went to boots on oxford street and bought tons of stomach medicine: i have had stomach problems since i was an infant, i have a genetic disorder that causes endless grief. but then it was always a family joke that i had a third world stomach. i would get ill in toronto and then be fine in mexico. the same seems to hold here, i havent had one moment of quesiness, i am eatnig everything and am perfectly fine, which is fortunate, as it would be torture to be here and to not be able to enjoy the food.
then there are the people. they occupy every space of mumbai. they sleep on sidewalks, in ditches, under pieces of cardboard. millions live in slums, which are highly organised an mafia controlled for the most part. one hut in a slum costs around 2,000 euros. the stench near the slum latrines is incredible, it stays in your nostrils after you have left. but then, these are hardly proper latrines, people just shit in the open in a designated area.
yesterday we went to what we were told was "laundry washing slum", which turned out to be exactly that: a huge slum where people did laundry. there were people beating clothes in cubes of water and on rocks as far as the eye could see. once this was done, the clean clothes were hung out to dry in the breeze on strings hung high up above the slum. i was amazed, there was so much visually to take in that i didnt fell i was seeing more than a small portion.
in addition to the slums, there are massive houses where the wealthy live. there are millionaires business men here, like in russia, who live like terrestrial gods. we saw some eating brunch at the taj. when they walked in, several people from the restraunt came to bow and greet them. one accidentally dropped his fork and a whole team of waiters came running (literally) to pick it up and give the man a new one. aaron , max and i got completely ignored for the hour or so the millionaires were there, the whole staff focussed on them exclusively. then there are the bollywood stars, who also live on another planet. they live in wealthy suburbs and drive around in chauffer-driven cars. aaron says one of them recently got drunk and killed 6 slum dwellers when his car went onto the pavement. the verdict? the people shouldnt have been on the pavement when such a god was passing!
meanwhile, the food is consistantly good. i havent yet found anything that tasted bad, although the food at the taj tasted by far best of all....and the drinks at the dome were in a league of their own.
in preparation for india i went to boots on oxford street and bought tons of stomach medicine: i have had stomach problems since i was an infant, i have a genetic disorder that causes endless grief. but then it was always a family joke that i had a third world stomach. i would get ill in toronto and then be fine in mexico. the same seems to hold here, i havent had one moment of quesiness, i am eatnig everything and am perfectly fine, which is fortunate, as it would be torture to be here and to not be able to enjoy the food.
6.4.07
incredible india
mumbai is amazing. it is like moscow and mexico city smashed together. i really like it, but i seem to be one of the few holding this opinion.
the temperature is my absolute ideal. it is sunny (but not too sunny) and warm, but not blistering hot as i thought it would be.
it also seems to be a lot safer than i imagined it would be. aaron, who lives here, claims that muggings are really rare, and i certainly have never felt in danger. people do come up to you to try to sell you things, but the generally go away when you tell them to.
it is a dynamic city. there are poor poeple everywhere and 6 million shit out in th open since they dont have access to toilets. one slum alone holds between 2 and 3 million. but i knew this when i bought my ticket. i am more struck by the dynamicism. people are moving everywhere all the time. driving around in taxis is great, you see something interesting on every street corner.
and leopolds cafe really exists and the guy who wrote shantarum actually still goes there practically every day for lunch and sits for a few hours watching colaba go by. leopold's is more or less as i imagined it: high ceilings, open air, and imperial. the food is good and the people watching is entertaining. the food at delhi darbar accross the street is decent as well, and at the taj it is fantastic. in the evening we go to the Dome, overlooking marine drive for cocktails and a view of the city. mumbai looks gorgeous from that height, even if the trance music doesnt completely drown out the honking of the cars on the street below.
the temperature is my absolute ideal. it is sunny (but not too sunny) and warm, but not blistering hot as i thought it would be.
it also seems to be a lot safer than i imagined it would be. aaron, who lives here, claims that muggings are really rare, and i certainly have never felt in danger. people do come up to you to try to sell you things, but the generally go away when you tell them to.
it is a dynamic city. there are poor poeple everywhere and 6 million shit out in th open since they dont have access to toilets. one slum alone holds between 2 and 3 million. but i knew this when i bought my ticket. i am more struck by the dynamicism. people are moving everywhere all the time. driving around in taxis is great, you see something interesting on every street corner.
and leopolds cafe really exists and the guy who wrote shantarum actually still goes there practically every day for lunch and sits for a few hours watching colaba go by. leopold's is more or less as i imagined it: high ceilings, open air, and imperial. the food is good and the people watching is entertaining. the food at delhi darbar accross the street is decent as well, and at the taj it is fantastic. in the evening we go to the Dome, overlooking marine drive for cocktails and a view of the city. mumbai looks gorgeous from that height, even if the trance music doesnt completely drown out the honking of the cars on the street below.
standing on the moon
oman is like the moon.
we arrived in the early morning and headed straight for the so called old town. when we got in front of the royal palace, something seemed odd: there was no one there, except of course the cleaners.
imported indian service staff in this place seem to out number inhabitants by a ration of 3:1. every where we walked we saw indians in uniforms cleaning and watering, but ver few omanis, except those in a few large white SUVs that from time to time rolled by.
we went to a coffee shop for a drink: we were the only people there. we went to the souk, and again the same thing. we took a walk in muttrah, through its back alleyways that zing and zag in and out of the incredible sun.....but agaain there were just a few old men who stared at us....
after a few hours we grabbed a cab and headed for a resort recommended in my guide. it was on the way to the resort that we saw that oman is really truely and amazing place. i have never seen nature like it. everywhere there were enormous mountains surrounding the road , with the occasional lagoon peaking out. when we actually reached the coast, we were shocked. there is nothing like that anywhere else i have seen. incredible.
we arrived in the early morning and headed straight for the so called old town. when we got in front of the royal palace, something seemed odd: there was no one there, except of course the cleaners.
imported indian service staff in this place seem to out number inhabitants by a ration of 3:1. every where we walked we saw indians in uniforms cleaning and watering, but ver few omanis, except those in a few large white SUVs that from time to time rolled by.
we went to a coffee shop for a drink: we were the only people there. we went to the souk, and again the same thing. we took a walk in muttrah, through its back alleyways that zing and zag in and out of the incredible sun.....but agaain there were just a few old men who stared at us....
after a few hours we grabbed a cab and headed for a resort recommended in my guide. it was on the way to the resort that we saw that oman is really truely and amazing place. i have never seen nature like it. everywhere there were enormous mountains surrounding the road , with the occasional lagoon peaking out. when we actually reached the coast, we were shocked. there is nothing like that anywhere else i have seen. incredible.
2.4.07
just my luck
i never get mosquito bites. NEVER. not in the amazon, not in st petersburg in the summer, not algonquin, not in africa. the little buggers just dont like me. i think it might genetic, they dont like my father either. when i was small and went on holidays with my parents, my mother would get covered in bites, when my father and i hadnt even noticed the creatures were around.
but i am now off to india and a few other places, and i managed to be persuaded by the NHS that, in addition to the 5 injections i had, i also needed anti-malaria pills. so, dutifully i went out and bought them. you are supposed to take them one week before the trip, during and for 4 weeks after. the only problem is that on saturday, after the second time i took them, i develeopped a rash on my leg. it got worse on sunday, and by this morning i had hives everywhere. i went to boots to ask what to do, and they immediately sent me to the doctor, who diagnosed an allergic reaction. i hoped that this might get me out of the pills entirely, but no, they instead insisted i get a perscription for a more high tech pill, that costs double. the good thing is though that you only have to take it for one week after you leave the infected area.
after all this i will be VERY disappointed if no misquito bites me!!!!
but i am now off to india and a few other places, and i managed to be persuaded by the NHS that, in addition to the 5 injections i had, i also needed anti-malaria pills. so, dutifully i went out and bought them. you are supposed to take them one week before the trip, during and for 4 weeks after. the only problem is that on saturday, after the second time i took them, i develeopped a rash on my leg. it got worse on sunday, and by this morning i had hives everywhere. i went to boots to ask what to do, and they immediately sent me to the doctor, who diagnosed an allergic reaction. i hoped that this might get me out of the pills entirely, but no, they instead insisted i get a perscription for a more high tech pill, that costs double. the good thing is though that you only have to take it for one week after you leave the infected area.
after all this i will be VERY disappointed if no misquito bites me!!!!
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