(Daniel) This morning I called Rowan and Gabbs from the Hotel regarding meeting them later.  However the voice at the end of the phone sounded much the worse for wear, as Gabby explained that Rowan was very sick and wouldn’t be able to leave the room.  As she said this, I could feel my own stomach turning a little, but paid no attention.  Instead I went downstairs and met the two gentlemen from the “Islamic Family Channel” who were waiting to see me in the lobby.  One man was quite old and was apparently there as a translator, the other was younger and was the station director for the channel. I sat and answered their questions, but soon realised that this was not so much an interview, but a Q&A about how to get vehicles across from one country to another.

After answering as many inquiries as I could, I made my excuses and returned to the room.  I did this just in time as the illness that had obviously been brewing up inside chose this moment to make itself apparent. I hate to admit to it, but I shit myself, and not in a small way. I spent the next few hours on the toilet, and eventually felt that I had the strength to make one journey out.  With this I went to Rowan and Gabby at the Best Western in Gulberg.  I took a taxi, and it felt like one of the longest taxi rides of my life!  When I arrived, I went up to the others’ room and knocked.  A face looking similarly pained to my own answered, Rowan had been ill overnight, and was still suffering.  I told him that I was bad too, and we spent the rest of the day trying not to move, and watching HBO on TV.

After several hours I decided to return to my hotel and get an early night, the taxi getting me back for around 6.30pm. However my phone rang and when I answered, Awas, the mechanic from Bilal Gang spoke.  He asked me where I had been and I explained about the sick day.  He offered to bring me some medicine, but I declined, choosing sleep instead.  About half an hour later, there was a knock at the door, it was Awas, apparently not heeding my decline, and here to take me to the chemist!  Out of politeness I accepted, and he and his friend Usaman took me to a place down the road in their car.  I bought some painkillers, and some anti S & D tablets, then got back in the car for a lift home.  After a minute or two I realised that we were going the wrong way.  (Don’t forget this is still Pakistan!)  And I asked where we were going.  “To my friend’s house” replied Awas, apparently wanting me to go meet some more people. I tried to decline, but didn’t have the strength and soon found myself in a poor suburb of town, sitting in a strange house, meeting a family of people and being shown the family album.  Photos of the daughter were shown over and over again, and I am not sure if there was some meaning in this.  But whatever happened I just needed to leave.  When we eventually did go, it turned out that the whole family needed a lift into town. Which of course Awas was happy to agree to, and they even needed to bring the TV for some reason.  So we piled back into Awas’ Honda civic, all seven of us, and the TV, to take the fairly long journey back into the city, and drop me off.

Thankfully we made it back, and after saying my goodbyes, I went back upstairs to bed.

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