Can't think what put me in mind of this. Don't read if it bores you.
The Sahara is a dry hot place with few water sources. You become very thirsty indeed and can quite easily fall ill from dehydration. At a deep borehole once in the middle of nowhere, shared some extremely sweet, deliciously cool water with a group of agreeable, er, locals for want of a better word.
I did notice that the drinking vessel was a scratched blue soft-polythene bowl, none too clean. But thirst conquers all inhibition in places like that. And the water tasted so lovely. But oh dear me, within hours I was already in the grip of two or three days of absolute galloping diarrhoea.
Another time, in Nigeria, I ate a forkful or two of sort of curried bean stuff before my host snatched it away saying: 'You can't eat that!', and cuffed the boy who had obtained the beans in the street. He was too late: I came down with serious rumbling gut parasite stuff that came back to London with me and turned out to be toxicara, a common gut parasite carried by domestic pet dung everywhere including here. The Tropical Diseases hospital tittered a bit and gave me pills which cured it immediately.
Our doctors at the time were two women who operated in the square where Tony Blair lives, or has a house anyway. They were perfectly nice to Herself but one in particular went out of her way to be rude to me. Nasty old dyke.
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Green in the face anyway new
Green in the face anyway new