Moving On Up

I got a call from Ani this morning. Her mobile phone has been stollen, which means that to call her I must risk speaking to her mother or father, neither of whom speak a word of English. Life goes on.

My sickness continues, and I feel dehydrated no matter how much water I drink. Action must be taken if I am to avoid making the journey home in a body bag.

Edging closer to my final hour, I decided that my best chance of survival lay at the Tourist Information Office, and so it was there that I headed.

My speed of travel has increased greatly. I am now able to cross smaller roads alone and I adjust my pace and direction so as to cross larger roads with the help of unwitting strangers. I therefore had little trouble reaching medical help and travel brochures.

When I arrived at the Tourist Office I explained that I was dying and that I needed to buy some medicine. To die in the Tourist Information Office of Yerevan would not be an altogether unplesent experince. It's air-conditioned and all the staff are female. The young lady who came to my aid was particularly attractive. She had short, spiked hair, a great smile and was about teh same height as an Umper-Lumpa from Lumpa land. Without laughing, I managed to tell her that I needed oral therapy. She took me to a nearby pharmacy where I bought 4 sachets of oral-rehydration therpy powder for about 8 us dollars.

At 2:30pm the apartment owner's son came down and helped me more my stuff into his family's apartment on the floor above. I felt very uncomfortable about displacing him, his mother nad his grandmother, but it seemed impossible to disuade them.

I ate Paklavca and drank thick Russian coffee with the family, as well as a refreshing drink made from a fruit similar to the appricot.

I went back to the tourist information to enquire aout the day trips that were available. I booked a place on a tour for Monday and collected some leaflets. I also spoke to a tour operator about joining a 2-day walking tour in the mountains. She'll email me tomorrow if there are any places available.

I returned to the Luna Cafe to eat, again having chicken soup but this time followed by a very dry chicken kiev and rice. I couldn't eat much, but I did eat all of the soup. Just like yesterday evening, my thoughts were of violence, the reason being that the cafe was playing the same music DVD, featuring a chunky, loud-mouthed whore(Mika Costa???) who made me want to rain fire and death upo all those who have, knowingly or unknowingly, wronged me in the past few years.