Saturday 20 February 2010

Tempting fate and other ill advice while travelling abroad

The title of this blog refers to a comment made by my father when we were discussing my upcoming trip to China, Laos, Cambodia, Vietnam and Australia. I was voicing my nerves over the trip and he said, quite matter-of-factly, “Well the worst thing that can happen is that you die”. I then told my friend this over a drink a week later and she pointed out, “No the worst thing surely is that you die painfully”. It is with these thoughts in my mind that I embark on what is surely to be an enlightening yet ridiculous experience half way across the globe.
Having not actually left yet I can only give you an insight into my preparation and what the far east is about to experience.
Firstly, I have already lost my travel cash card without leaving my house. It has disappeared into the underbelly of my bedroom along where I can only imagine all my socks and earrings now keep it company. This was of course frustrating in itself but what was more embarrassing than this was calling up the cash card’s help line to report it lost. The man on the end of the phone was sympathetic but a little confused at my request to keep the card active in case it reappeared,
“Miss Bradley, we must cancel the card in case someone else finds it and tries to use it.”
“No, no. It’s in my house somewhere I’m just not very sure where and I have looked for it quite thoroughly but I can’t find it.”
“So you want to order a new card?”
“Yes.”
“ But keep the other one open.”
“Yes.”
“But that’s lost.”
“That’s right.”
And so it goes on.
Another highlight of my preparation was my TB jab. Now, no one I know seems to have had the same TB injection as me; it was not the 5 needle injection in one or a BCG or any of that it was just one needle. Unfortunately you have to undergo a skin test first. I may be naive but when I was told I needed a skin test I assumed they kind of swabbed your skin and it would go green or show a smiley face or something. So, I am happily sitting in the very nice waiting room of this private travel clinic with free tea and coffee available, when I get called in. I sit down with the nurse and she confirms I want the TB skin test then will return in three days for the injection provided I have no reaction today. I agree and say that is what I’m here for. The nurse then begins preparing a needle. What? “Is this an injection?” I ask, “No it’s the skin test”, the nurse begins tapping bubbles out of the glass tube, “Basically what we do is inject you about here,” she points to a point on the inside of my left arm near all the veins, “Just under the skin and you feel something a bit like a wasp sting and then a bubble appears on your arm and if that goes down we know you’re not allergic.” Panic. I have never before been afraid of needles but now confronted with this needle near my veins I am filled with horror, fear and violent nausea. It does feel like a bloody wasp sting. I then have to wait another three delightful days before the actual injection which, I am now dreading an overwhelming amount. But, sure enough, three days later I am sitting again in the very nice waiting room drinking some complimentary coffee. A girl and her boyfriend go in before me and as I am thinking of all the lovely things I will do when I’m away I hear a scream come from the surgery. I look around and no one else seems to even flinch. This is surely a sign. Could I run away, screaming and flailing my limbs? Would that seem odd? My name gets called and the nurse asks how I am today, “Was the girl before me screaming?” is all I can answer, she senses the will to run and flail, “Oh yes but before we even got near her. She was so jumpy some people are just like that”. So I have the injection (not actually so bad) and pay £50 for the privilege.
I know no one cares that I will see the Great Wall of China or Angor Wat or the Sydney Opera House. What you want to know is when I get chatted up by a Thai lady-boy or accidentally eat monkey brains. I for one am all for giving the people what they want. So here it is; four and a half months of things that you shouldn't’t do while travelling but will inevitably happen to me.