Thursday 4th March Roquetas and the pain!

Absolutely no photos today!

Yep, food poisoning, big time, not just a queasy stomach, I mean opening up the sluices at both ends, but mainly the posterior. Started out yesterday at a basic “not feeling well”, pains in stomach, a chill, no appetite, just feeling “off”. Put it down to not drinking enough of God’s own healing liquid last night so it must be the food.

Now all I had the day before was a rather large salad for lunch and a cheese and onion roll in the evening, quaffed down with the usual. What was in the salad? Well just about everything including even, some lettuce, what else, ah yes, moules, tinned. The rest was pickles, raw onions, olives, egg, chillies, beetroot, anchovies, branston, some bread and a cup of tea. So it was either the tea or the bread, obvious isn’t it? The rest are standard fare.

Well it got so bad I had to retire to bed, that’s when the pains, down there, started. “Got a bit of wind there” I thought, as my stomach started to make noises as if I had a dozen of so frog,s mating down there, the next minute/second I was on the loo, taking no prisoners.

We, SWMBO and me, have a basic rule that when on camp site’s #2’s are generally taken care of using their facilities, err, not this time. There was no way I was going to waddle like an Emperor penguin down to toilet block #6, clamping my cheeks together all the way. So all I got was “At least put the fan on!”

It reminded me of the time I had to go into hospital when I was a lot younger. In those days if you have not been to the bog for 3 days, you have therefore “volunteered” for an enema. God what an experience! Nurse comes, shoves a tube up your bottom, pump in warm soapy liquid and then tells you the bog is 120 yards away “round that corner”. So there you are, arse flapping out of the back of your gown, cheeks clenched, heels together hoping at least one trap is available. Got there and got back to bed. “Sorry you have to have another one with barium in it.” “Eh….!” Off you go again, I got in, completed the necessary and then there was a knock on the door. I replied, “Who goes there, friend or enema?”

Well this was the story for the rest of the day, at one point I thought I would never be able to fart audibly again. Until the evening came, then disaster!

Looking up the “cures” on the internet, I found “drink lots of liquids, no food”. No problems here I thought reaching for the nearest six pack.

“Err, that means no beer either, mate!” I heard from SWMBO.

“You cannot seriously mean no beer, man! Oh well I’ll stick to wine then.”

“No! Nothing but water!”

Silence, tic, tock, on the wall from the clock and a tumbleweed goes rolling by.










“I’ll die you know.”


Of course, come dinner time, she is a great help, sitting down in front of me with a plate of hamburgers, baked peppers and rice, helped on it’s way with a glass of red wine, has she got no soul?

Also because she did not want me making any “mistakes” I was chucked out of the main bed and had to use the “rock & roll” bed, have you tried it Z?, ‘cos comfy it’s not, and I was given a “throw” for a blanket.

So today is going to be a lazy day, because I’m not planning to be more than a few yards from the nearest toilet and I might try a couple of cups of weak tea and dry toast.

“Lunch”, however, turned out to be a cup of Oxo. Now I don't know about you but an Oxo in a cup of boiling water with some bread was half a meal for me when I was a kid. Although I was not looking forward to it after all these years but it tasted great; it may have to do with the fact that other than weak tea and water, all that I had had for the last 36 hours was basically nothing!

It takes me back to when I used to go and watch my hero, centre half, Charlie Hurley, take on all comers at Roker Park for Sunderland F.C., in then what was the first division. Brian Clough played at centre forward and I could not wait for every other Saturday to come round. I always used the uncovered “Roker end”, providers of the famous “Roker Roar”. In winter when it was chucking it down with rain and Sunderland scored, you suddenly felt a warm glow down your back and legs, it was either the guy behind you had spilt his Oxo or, because he couldn’t be arsed to go, was pissing on you.

Back to the realities of Spain.

Still sun is shining and no wind, well not quite true I guess.

SWMBO seems to be coming down with something, I don’t think it’s Alice, although Christopher Robin came down with it.  7 pm,Tucked up in bed now, with her penguin.