The Landlady’s Turkish delight…

I am relieved to announce that I did not have malaria after all. The combination of a heavy cold, plus the side-effects of the anti-malaria medication I am still taking, even though it’s now three weeks since I returned from Africa, gave me text-book (or Google-search) malarial symptoms. In praise of the NHS, (whom I love even more after recent brushes with a West African hospital) I had my blood tests at 11am and the results were back by 3pm. They would have been even quicker, had the practise nurse checked her emails and seen the one sent by my doctor saying that I was sitting outside her door awaiting an urgent blood test.

She – curious that the doctor hadn’t phoned her instead, she said – admitted that she’d been relaxing and eating a banana while I waited outside, feeling faint and giddy (one of my ‘malaria’ symptoms) but I was so spaced-out that I didn’t mind. Besides, the nurse was lovely and in spite of her banana-eating was still speedy enough to get my blood test done and give me enough time to finish preparing for my next foreign jaunt the following day.

“I am happy to be as giddy as a goat”

So, after a bit of frantic packing and organising I made it to the station, and the airport and I am aboard a holiday flight to Southern Turkey. I am to spend a relaxing week with my friend from The Supermarket in her sister’s house and we’ll be mainly eating, drinking and lying by the pool, which is a good way to recover from malaria… or a mere head-cold… Being as I am on a ‘budget’ airline, and the sun is past the yard arm, I have taken advantage of their ‘two for £7’ bottles of fizzy wine, which are further enhancing my ‘giddiness’. I am happy to be as giddy as a goat now that I know that the light-headed feeling is down to nothing more than a head cold. Even my head cold is much better, mainly due to the rather furtive supplication of Day Nurse capsules by The Big Son, who seemingly has a stash of them squirrelled away in his boudoir for occasions such as these.

While I am away, The Big Son has to go up to London and renew his new passport, as his old new one got ruined when he plunged, fully clothed into a swimming pool in ‘Marbs’ last week. His passport photograph now looks like a weak facsimile of a slightly damaged boiled egg, which will not get him to his house music festival in Croatia next month. Ah, we sound like such a decadent family, what with our flagrant ‘Day Nurse’ habit and prolific foreign travel. Not to be usurped by her mother and younger brother, The Big Daughter is off on a round the world trip in September. Before you ask, I’ve already rented out her room…