Oh so ill!

A made it through a week in Pakistan without getting ill.

We had to be so vigilant to keep our hands clean, and dry (bugs in the water!) so that we didnt get sick with the "runs". We had to make sure that what we were eating from was clean and dry also! We had to make sure that the fruit was washed in salt water and peeled!

On the last day I remember using a cash machine (a strange machine that seemed to do really what it felt like, dispensing a random amount of cash) and thinking, I really should clean my hands. Everyone else did, but for some reason - I didnt. The result was a sore stomach at 4am and "the runs" every half hour for the next 10 hours.

The plane flight was 8 hours of hell. I couldnt sleep and had to use the toilet every 30 mins. Toward the end of the flight the attendants were starting to get worried and broke open a medical kit (safety ties cut, signed for in triplicate) and gave me some imodiem. The paramedics were called at the airport and said that I could not be admitted to hospital for another 10 hours. I was taken through customs in a wheel chair and put in a taxi and sent home to a freaked out Sarah. She took me in to A&E at midnight. I was admitted at 3am for severe dehydration. It lasted for another 2 weeks.

What a crap way to end a holiday!

Beautiful Pakistan

From Pakistan

In September I went to visit my brother Tom and his wife Erin and two kids Oliver and Madison. My sister Niki and her husband Neil were there at the same time - it was really great to see them all again!

Pakistan is in the foot hills of the Himalayas and is very beautiful! It was mostly hazy as all the pollution (and there is lots of it!) gets trapped in the valleys, but on occasion get got a clear day.

Tom and his family live in a Christian School, where they work and are kept safe by huge walls and armed guards. The school looks after the kids of the doctors and aid workers that are in Pakistan, Afghanistan etc. giving sight to blind people and prosthetic limbs to people who have stood on mines etc. so it is work worth doing.

Pakistan itself is like most other 3rd world countries - people living in little huts, poor hygiene etc. Where I was staying, Murree, was 2km above sea level, in the mountains. In the winter it gets very cold and it often snows so deep that the locals can't get out of their houses, and if they're not prepared, they die. But otherwise they look to be very happy people.

The culture was interesting. I had all sorts of preconceived ideas about a Muslim country, most if not all of those were shattered by the time I had left.

Alcohol is prohibited - that means that the bottles of Baileys, Port and Ginger wine were illegal. I was assured that nobody would want to look in my luggage and if they did, just offer it to them!

Woman are not allowed outside without their husband or older brother, or without a gaggle(flock, heard, school?) of other woman. They had to be fully covered, which meant that my sister had to wear beautifully coloured, handmade, silk scarves - she loved it.
We had the impression that Muslim countries were hard on woman, and bound them to the house etc. In reality, the markets seemed to be completely focused on them! Clothes, silks, scarves, hats, shoes, jewelery, food etc. The colours were amazing and the most beautiful
handmade materials that I have seen. The woman here like to look and feel beautiful.

The men are hospitable and funny. My brother could speak a little of their language and could say something like "Difficult wife/children!" which always made the men laugh. Apparently the Qur'an insists on hospitality to travelers, so on a trek through the hills we stumbled upon a village and the men invited us into their house for a cup of Chi tea - a very very creamy tea (not my cup of tea!)

When our car broke down, high up in the mountains, in true Pakistan tradition, within moments 10 men arrived and started planning how to fix the car. We took (one of the many taxis that turned up from nowhere) to the local spare parts shop, returned, and one of the men who happened to be a mechanical expert, with a flick of his wrists and a rock of the car, the broken fan belt came off (to the amazement of the western men). The new fan belt turned out to be too big so the mechanic performed his trick again, the next thing we know the air con belt was removed to replace the broken belt! We offered money as a sign of gratitude, but be said he did it for "merit" - points for heaven!
Pakistanees have no concept of preventative maintenance. When something breaks, you fix it - you fix what aint broke or braking. Because of this they will often work their machines to death, scavenge parts, then leave it where it is, where it will stay forever.

They have a complete and utter faith in Allah (God). When we asked if something can be done the answer is most likely "Ish Allah" - God Willing. "Can you make one of these by next week? - Ish Allah". Which really means "if we ever get round to it you might get it by next month". Tom reply is "No Ish Allah - don't blame god. I will pick it up next week." "Will this car really make it up that hill? - Ish Allah!" Oh my!

San Sebastián

From San Sebastian

My mates Matt and Geoff from back home came over for a holiday. They stayed a few nights in London then went on a tour of Europe. I decided to meet them in San Sebastian for the weekend. It was really fun get-away!

I went to work on the Friday, with my luggage. We went out on the booze and I caught the last train to Gatwick at 11pm. I got to my hotel at 12pm. My flight was leaving at 6am so I had 4 hours sleep - what a waste of £50.

From the moment I got to the airport was in queues. I queued for 30 mins to check in. My bag had straps on it so it had to go on the "special handling" conveyor belt. 20 minutes queuing for that. 20 minutes queuing for the security check. By the time I got to the lounge, my flight was in it final boarding call!!

Anyway after a grueling hour and a bit of oh-so-hung-over travel (new policy - no traveling hung over) I arrived. But it seems that my bag had not. "Special Handling" mean really slow apparently.

So I was in Spain, stinking hot with jeans and a long sleeved shirt on, no toiletries or change of clothes... nothing, no cell phone, no jandels, no togs, nada. I managed to make it into the city - not the beach that I intended to spend every waking moment. Every thing was closed for siesta. Bloody lazy Spaniards - it was really hot mind you. Anyhow, after about 4 hours of shopping in closed shops I had managed to restock with the essentials - togs, singlets, underpants, toiletries, shorts. Onto the bus for an hour and off to the beach.

Matt and Geoff turned up late in the after noon. I had no way of contacting them other than to send them an email and arrange to meet them at their hostel (different to my hostel). To my surprise that worked remarkably well.

It happened to be the regions fiesta so there was a party atmosphere in the streets! There were people dressed up with huge heads wacking people with inflated cows stomachs! They made the loudest most frightening sound but didn't hurt at all!

We ended up having a really great weekend of eating, drinking and lying on the beach!

From San Sebastian

My bags turned up on the night before I left. I claimed insurance for all my purchases, so I ended up with €70 of free clothes and stuff! Woo hoo

You can see a few more photos here