Wednesday, September 10, 2003
‘What a nice life that nice Michael Palin must have. Him and that Bill Bryson. Trotting off to places and then writing about them (’cept for his big new cosmic history book). Must be nice to be a travel writer.’
As a more junior member of this profession (the first book’s out in February) I’ve just had an experience that show it’s not all royalty cheques and free travel.
I’m just back from the doctor, where I had to show my tattered nether regions to a cute young female GP.
Seems I brought something back from Louisiana in addition to the photographs and memories. A fungal infection from long days in sweaty lycra in the sultry South. It only manifested itself a couple of weeks after I got back from New Orleans, but apparently that’s normal, said the doctor. (Why couldn’t it have been a kindly old man rather than a trendy girl with a tattoo?)
The inflammation along my inner thighs should clear up quickly enough with the prescribed cream, but next time I’m going journeying in an air conditioned car.
Permalink