Le Garden Crew Travels

The next morning I woke up sick. That was bitter/sweet news for Kell because this meant she had proof that the hotel was killing us. Her plan was to drag me in front of the organizers and show them the ill effects of Le Spice Garden since we figured our pleas fell on deaf ears.
My throat hurt badly and I ran a temperature. She asked me if I had been taking all of my medicine. I didn’t even lie, I told her no. She instructed me to take all of my medicine and to get ready for the next island tour. Neither of us felt safe leaving me in my state alone at the motel. After the chef/doorman/front desk man fed us our daily bread and water rations we went out side to wait for the bus.
I needed some medicine. As we waited, an Aussie gave me a salt/water mixture and advised me to gargle all day. I wondered why I didn’t think of that simple remedy. Aussie made everything simple though.
We waited outside Le Garden for the bus to pick us up. I felt weak.
No one was surprised when they sent a rickety, stinky bus to Le Garden to pick us up. Our bus looked like it would fall apart if we hit a bump. Other people from the nice hotels had nice buses and an English-speaking tour guide. Ours smelled of musk and had dirty leather seats.
It took Canadian to make light of our situation. He stepped on the bus and noticed that they gave us all the vegetarian sandwiches on our bus. ALL the vegetarian sandwiches, he stressed in the most sarcastic voice I’d heard anyone use. I would have laughed on the floor if I had the energy.
We had the worse driver and guide. I became mad that our guide was an old greasy Mauritian with a pot-bellied gut, who even took the liberty of dying his dark natural hair a bright red.
Mauritians are of India descent. Many have dark skin, and dark hair. The bright red clashed with his natural tones. I couldn’t stand to be sick and look at him all tour. To make our bus even stinker, he smoked.
An hour into the trip we got lost. The “Organizers” provided everyone with knowledgeable guide except for us.
I didn’t get mad. I didn’t even look at Kell. I just knew this was another situation where misery loved company. We ate the grilled vegetables.
After sitting four hours on the funky bus I figured the “Organizers” set the Garden crew up as a practical joke.
Tomorrow will be better, I said.
I took a long swig of my tonic, covered my head so it didn’t touch that nasty seat and went to sleep.