When reading through travel diaries from twenty years ago leads to google searches for your long-forgotten travel companions; sometimes you come across disturbing information.
Diana and I shared a tent throughout our three month trek of Africa in 1996. We were instant besties. She was friendly, funny, adventurous, kind and level-headed, and took care of me in Zanzibar when I was so ill I barely knew my own name.* We caught up a few times in London on our return from Africa but then she went off travelling and I never heard from her again. Now I know why.
What a truly awful end for someone so full of life.
* Malaria, giardia, dysentary, bilharzia and severe dehydration. All at once. It wasn't pleasant. Thank god for Diana taking me to hospital, realising said hospital was a filthy cesspool of disease, and tracking down Dr Mario, the Italian doctor in Stonetown who loaded me so full of medication in his private clinic that I was able to continue our trek a couple of days later. I owed them both big time.
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