Touch of malaria
I say!
Been rather under the weather recently, with a touch of malaria. Not too bad a bout, but enough to keep me out of action for a while. Silly, rather. I did not begin to take my prophylactics soon enough before returning to Kalimbuka, which is a warning to us all.
However, it was very pleasant to return home, to Mrs M and the staff, who insisted on lining up at the entrance to the compound, standing to attention, and saluting me. Quite over the top!
Absolutely no purpose in being tested for malaria - the hospital will always give a positive result, and I've had it enough times to know the symptoms, and the treatment.
Anyway, enough of my ills. Mrs M is a wonderful nurse.
Spending time inside has allowed me to read up on some matters, and here is a quiz question which has resulted from perusing a very enjoyable read:
Who used the pseudonym "Baron Renshaw" when staying at Shepheard's and the Taj?
Here is a lovely quote from my current read, which is a travel book, of course:
"A Grand Tourist in the 18th century would have arrived [in Rome] by coach, probably in the company of half a dozen other giggling fops, to be deposited in the Piazza del Popolo - the northernmost point in Rome at the time - where he would have found goats grazing at the base of the phallic Egyptian obelisk erected by Pope Sixtus V. Giddy with the Eternal City's erotic promise, he would have hired a cab and slipped between the bulging breasts of the twin-domed Santa Maria churches, penetrating the spread legs of the Via di Ripetta and the Via del Babuino by the tight labial opening of the Corso. Casting nervous glances down the side-alleys, he would have checked into an albergo and later - what a coincidence! run into one of his fellow travellers, freshly powdered and ready for revelry, on the streets of the world's first English tourist ghetto."
Here is another delightful passage:
"The shark-finned, canine-toothed, white-walled Matterhorn loomed at the ed of the street, a child's drawing of a scary mountain. Against a background of blue sky, a horizontal stream of cloud intersected the summit, as though the protruding peak was provoking a disturbance in the empyrean, and earth-claw raking the stratosphere. I thouh of the Paramount Picturs logo, muesli boxes, and Toblerone, trying to understand the mountain's impact with everyday trademarks. Rising white and alone from a pedestal of meadows and evergreens, it foiled all attempts at trivialization: the Matterhorn was a genuinely fear-inducing sight."
Wonderful, what?
I was hoping to post some snaps of the far, far north, but Bloger is being unco-operative.
MM III
Been rather under the weather recently, with a touch of malaria. Not too bad a bout, but enough to keep me out of action for a while. Silly, rather. I did not begin to take my prophylactics soon enough before returning to Kalimbuka, which is a warning to us all.
However, it was very pleasant to return home, to Mrs M and the staff, who insisted on lining up at the entrance to the compound, standing to attention, and saluting me. Quite over the top!
Absolutely no purpose in being tested for malaria - the hospital will always give a positive result, and I've had it enough times to know the symptoms, and the treatment.
Anyway, enough of my ills. Mrs M is a wonderful nurse.
Spending time inside has allowed me to read up on some matters, and here is a quiz question which has resulted from perusing a very enjoyable read:
Who used the pseudonym "Baron Renshaw" when staying at Shepheard's and the Taj?
Here is a lovely quote from my current read, which is a travel book, of course:
"A Grand Tourist in the 18th century would have arrived [in Rome] by coach, probably in the company of half a dozen other giggling fops, to be deposited in the Piazza del Popolo - the northernmost point in Rome at the time - where he would have found goats grazing at the base of the phallic Egyptian obelisk erected by Pope Sixtus V. Giddy with the Eternal City's erotic promise, he would have hired a cab and slipped between the bulging breasts of the twin-domed Santa Maria churches, penetrating the spread legs of the Via di Ripetta and the Via del Babuino by the tight labial opening of the Corso. Casting nervous glances down the side-alleys, he would have checked into an albergo and later - what a coincidence! run into one of his fellow travellers, freshly powdered and ready for revelry, on the streets of the world's first English tourist ghetto."
Here is another delightful passage:
"The shark-finned, canine-toothed, white-walled Matterhorn loomed at the ed of the street, a child's drawing of a scary mountain. Against a background of blue sky, a horizontal stream of cloud intersected the summit, as though the protruding peak was provoking a disturbance in the empyrean, and earth-claw raking the stratosphere. I thouh of the Paramount Picturs logo, muesli boxes, and Toblerone, trying to understand the mountain's impact with everyday trademarks. Rising white and alone from a pedestal of meadows and evergreens, it foiled all attempts at trivialization: the Matterhorn was a genuinely fear-inducing sight."
Wonderful, what?
I was hoping to post some snaps of the far, far north, but Bloger is being unco-operative.
MM III
posted by zomba at 12:50 PM
4 Comments:
I am sorry you have been sick. It is wonderful to have such a terrific nurse.
I do hope you are feeling better.
Were the dogs happy at your return?
Mingers - if my boss was drop-dead gorgeous, would I have walked away? She's what you'd call a very nice person. She has some weird idea that I'm an honourable man. If she ever saw my blog and some of its visitors ...
I say!
Casper and Farley lined up, to heal, with the staff.
Casper was frightfully excited to see me again. Ran round the grounds several times.
MM III
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