Last week MrFF took himself off to North Wales to climb Snowdon the highest mountain there. He booked himself into a Youth Hostel overnight, we are life members. His hike was successful, he said he slept well in his lower bunk and came home with a stinking cold. He admitted the guy sleeping above him, a Belgian lad, had coughed most of the night, I wasn’t too worried. I haven’t had a cold for years despite contact with contagious people. I pride myself on my excellent immune system which I reinforce by at least 30 seconds of cold water at the end of every shower. A couple of days after the wanderer’s return my throat was a bit itchy, then my nose was running, finally the cough started. That was a week ago, I am only just recovered.
Meantime temperatures here have rocketed, 30 degrees on Wednesday. It’s not been the ideal time for me to enjoy the sun, I’ve been weak and feeble, not sleeping because of the cough, tired and tetchy. We all know who’s to blame, £16 for a bed wasn’t a bad price but hardly the bargain he expected. Here are some photos from the walk, much nicer to see than any of my red nose.
That must have been a particularly virulent strain, one you had never been exposed to before.
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