I remember a time in China when I got incredibly sick half-way through our journey.
Every year, the Chinese school system takes two months off for Chinese New Year. My second year teaching English over there, my friends and I decided to travel. Extensively.
Somewhere between climbing mountains and taking a break in a rural village, I came down with a terrible cold and slight fever. (It had been raining, and we had been travelling by train, bike, and taxi nearly non-stop for a while at this point, and were actually nearing the end of our journey.)
All I clearly remember of it is being given a bed upstairs in the home of a rural restaurant, and trying to sleep a little in one of the coziest niches I’d ever seen.
Had there been central heating, it would have been even cozier.
Fortunately, someone got me some medicine and some juice. Unfortunately, there was little choice other than to soldier on. I couldn’t stay in the lady’s house; she was kind enough to lend me the bed for as long as she did. And, at the time, the idea of trying to find my own way home in a strange land where I barely knew the language didn’t seem like that attractive of an idea.
I was very glad to be home a day or so later, so that I could actually sleep in my own bed and recover.
And even though I went on a myriad of such adventures even after that, I will now always remember to pack cold medicine with me if I ever end up on a journey like that again.
Have you ever been sick on vacation? What was your experience?
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