The good news is that the mussels stayed down. By about 10:30PM, however, as I was blowing up the air mattresses, I began feeling a bit queasy. This expanded, as it were, to full-scale intestinal discomfort, chills, malaise, which lasted three hours. Remembering an unfortunate incident in the tent, in Florence, back in the 80s, I wisely moved to the car, where Vicki as always fulfilled her roles as good wife and good nurse. At least this time it was not the wine. By 1:30, I had recovered enough to move back to the tent and slept the rest of the night. By morning I was pretty much OK. We carried on our program of driving on to French Pass, then back to Pelorus Bridge, and to Havelock, and beyond. But I had temporarily lost my appetite for mussels.
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The Mussel Pot in Havelock is my favorite South Island restaurant; I had been
looking forward to eating there for weeks; but not this day; the people there
suggested my malady had been caused most likely by over-indulgence; I couldn't
disagree; it was way too much of a good thing that my land-loving gut was not
quite up to... |
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Anyhow I was just fine by the time we were at Pelorus
Bridge for lunch |
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| Able to enjoy the fine scenery |
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| Thus |
1 comment:
Now, Wes might have enjoyed that scenery!
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