Some people have emailed me direct to ask if I was joking about bat-shite disease – alas, I wasn’t it really did nearly do for me by going to live in a cosy place in one of my heart valves. Which was weird.
A few years ago I went to a jungle and nearly died.
That wasn’t good. I wasn’t good at dying. Far too afraid of the great unknown.
Anyway, it gave me something to write about when I got home from the place in which these photos were taken, and I ended up in hospital.
These are the people I was with in the middle of the rainforest.
Just looking at the photos kind of scares me now.
The thing about jungles is that there are lots of very, very tiny things in there waiting to get you.
My little demons seem to have been microbes introduced into my bloodstream from bat shit. Nice. Didn’t want to go down the wretched bat cave anyway.
I have wondered ever since how these folk survive all those evil microbes. Maybe they ingest so many, they’re just immune.
It took me two years to…
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