The hell run
I remember leaving Breiville. Looking forward to an adventure within an adventure. No crew, unchartered bit of wild interior, no villages, just wild country. This is what it’s about, the thrill of the unknown. It was all there, and more. The little things. How many times in life are the little things that really get to you, hurt you, and actually bring you down? It’s not the lions, bears or tigers; it’s the little almost invisible creatures that end up being the most dangerous. How close these came to taking me out.
After over a month on the water, I thought I was bullet proof to the Madagascan water. The centre of the island has no wells, every one just drinks from the rivers, muddy, cloudy, milky you just go ahead and so did I, swimming, washing in them, crossing them, on I went through the centre of bog land to the coast. Then one morning I awoke, my gut felt as it had been pulled and sown up under my armpit- rumbling and twisting it tried to return to its position. I knew that something big was on the brew and so it was, for the next 12 days I was in agony in intervals through the day. No meal was safe, but I just had to keep it down as long as possible, as I was 160km from the nearest town, I had to keep going.
5 days into this trek, the next little creature hits me. Already feeling like death, I woke with the sun baking me. Nauseous I crept out of my tent to relieve myself. Yawning half dazed I looked down and nearly died. I was shocked out of my half comatose state. Blood, and a solid stream of it. What the hell was happening to me? The panic began to settle in and I really began to worry. Straight away I texted Prof. Wayne Derman at Sport Science Institute the story, he was not happy at what my state was and I was given various options, the diagnosis was, “let’s hope its bilharzia”. Off I set to find some medication in this god forsaken hell hole. You won’t believe it, I did in a little village, some Chinese pills, the box said they were meant to be white, but they were so old that they were now a tan pink colour; I took five big pills of this eastern pesterside, and hoped for the best. Some how I survived the night and the next morning the passing of blood stopped. On I wobbled from bush to path for another 2 days until something hit me again, I awoke in the morning, every joint sore, my head pounding and just no energy. I tried to do a few km, but eventually collapsed under a tree. There I remained until the next morning when the fever finally broke. In my weakened state Dengue fever, a light version of malaria had also crept in. 12 days of hell I have just survived, finally making it to the town, I have found a room where I have crept in and will remain for at least a day, just recovering to fight another day.