Marruecos, Part 4

When I woke up the next morning, I was probably the warmest I had been on the trip so far. This was because as soon as I saw that the hotel room had a wall unit, I cranked that sucker up to 30 degrees (Celsius, it was about 86 degrees Fahrenheit). My view being, we have already paid for this trip and the hotel room, so why the heck not use the heat? I probably would have enjoyed the sensation of finally being warm a little bit more if I had not also woken up feeling the illest I had been on the trip so far.

 

Let me just say that I am always the person who gets sick while traveling. I have learned to deal with it more or less, and not let it dampen my fun, and a lot of the reason why I stay so positive is because I carry around what I like to call my portable pharmacy everywhere I go. I had actually been feeling a little smug because it was day 4 and I had not gotten sick yet, while others in my group were dropping like flies. I was even dispensing the Pepto Bismol and the Kaopectate like candy because I was so sure I was not going to be ill on this trip. To tell you the truth, I felt kind of like Superwoman. But oh how the mighty have fallen was what I was thinking as I took almost every medication I had. It was another all-day bus trip that day, and I knew I wasn’t going to be able to make a bathroom pit stop every 5 seconds.

 

So, down the hatch with the medicines. Then down the stairs to breakfast, which I was NOT all about. I think I ate some yogurt and brought an orange and some bread along with me for later. And then back on the bus through all the terrific scenery from 2 days ago. We stopped at a different overlook this time that looked exactly like the Grand Canyon. I took a whole lot of pictures.

 

We then took a brief interlude from my illness to come across a protest in the middle of the highway. A whole group of people were standing in the middle of the road, blocking the entire way. Well of course this was just awesome, so we all busted out the cameras. Eventually, the bus driver took us offroad to get around the protest. So there we are, driving in the dirt, when people start noticing that the second bus is no longer with us. In fact, it is still way back where the protest is! Like our bus, it has decided to go offroading to get around the road block, but the protesters were quicker on their feet this time and had moved off the road to block the bus a second time. They made a human chain in front of the bus to keep it from moving, and then started picking up rocks to stack in front of the bus. Everyone on our bus started to FREAK OUT. The bus was eventually able to move on and join us, but it was a scary couple of minutes there.

 

This of course did nothing for my physical state. At this point I was tired, nauseous, and freaked out, and I wrestled with myself for a good 10 minutes to try to decide whether I should tell someone. I finally decided that I should, so I got up and walked to the front of the bus and told the tour guides, “Please, we need to stop the bus.”

 

The next thing I remember, I was off the bus!!! I didn’t even have time to wonder how that happened, because Benni asked me what was wrong, I replied, “I’m going to throw up”, and then I leaned over and vomited alllllll over my own shoes and pants. Benni was kind enough to stand by me as I hurled. Seriously, I am a vomit-phobe, so that’s a serious tour guide for you right there. Then I got to cause more delays as the bus driver opened up the luggage door so I could get out some new shoes and pants, and then change on the side of the road. Yes, two Moroccan men who were and remain strangers to me have now seen me pantsless. Yes, I took my vomit clothes, put them in a plastic bag, and threw them back in my suitcase, hoping they would disappear before we got to the hotel (they didn’t). And yes, once I got back on the bus I found I was not done puking, so I sat with a plastic bag all the way to the restaurant, feeling wibbly.

 

Needless to say, when we got to the restaurant, I did not eat. Instead, I was wrapped up in a blanket and put on a couch in the hotel lobby, and I took a 2 hour nap. 2 hours! In the middle of the day! This is amazing to me; I never sleep that much. However, it had also been over 7 years since I had thrown up, so maybe that had something to do with it. I know that even though I had finished vomiting by that point, my body HATED me for the rest of the day. I could barely walk, I was overwhelmingly tired . . . I couldn’t even put my hands all the way up when we did the Wave on the bus.

 

We stayed in the same hotel in Fez as before, and I missed out on dinner (although I did eat some rice) and the bellydancing show (which people said wasn’t much to begin with). So all in all, not one of my best days ever. But I was determined not to miss out on the tour of the Medina the next day . . .

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One Response to Marruecos, Part 4

  1. Nancy Todd says:

    I relate to your experience. Loved Morroco, and everyone on our trip was sick sick sick. yes, remember those bus stops!

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