19.02.2017 - 19.02.2017 22 °C
But I survied to tell the tale...
Which I'm sure you're dying to hear? Ha.
We're sat outside our first-floor bedroom, overlooking the River Ganges. Just finished eating a juicy pomegranate, safely behind caged bars which keep us safe from the rascal monkeys. Our new neighbour 'Jo', a well-spoken retiree from the UK, pops her head around to say hello. We exchange the usual Indian traveller pleasantries: 'where are you from?' 'how long are you away?' and 'have you had a dicky tummy yet?' in Jo's words. The three of us celebrated our tummy triumphs to-date and touched the wooden door frame for luck.
Twelve hours later (3am) I was jumping on, off and in-front of the toilet like a span-dangled jack-in-the-box, and inwardly shouting 'I want my Muuuum'.
Our joining bathroom wall is head height, with a further height of fabric separating our bathroom from Jo's. She didn't mention anything... It lasted a full 12 hours, followed by a fever. Lewy looked after me amazingly.
The culprit? POTATOES!
But as Jo later pointed out, they had probably been sat there all week, in dirty oil and picking up all the moped fumes.
Lewy still stands strong with the minority of tough tummied travellers we've met so far (and I won't bother knocking on wood this time). On the plus side I now feel great, lighter on my feet and will pig-out more hesitantly from now on. All I can hear in my mind is 'belly's gonna get you!'
Lewy to send a full Rishikesh update in a few days.