Leave Ethiopia in the middle of a downpour, arrive in London in the middle of a downpour. One of the most frequent questions I got in Ethiopia was “Is it your rainy season now too?”, to which I usually assented, and today’s weather makes me feel happily justified.
Ethiopia’s parting gifts to me were a double whammy of typhoid and typhus, which on the one hand makes me feel interestingly Victorian, but on the other, more practical hand, made the overnight flight home an experience I would not particularly want to repeat. Plus, while antibiotics are a wonderful thing, it’s my birthday tomorrow and no alcohol or dairy is going to put a damper on proceedings. Still, I suppose it’s preferable to intestinal perforation or metastatic abscesses (I do not know what either of these things are, but the Wikipedia article manages to make them sound unpleasant nonetheless) and I do not want to be so interestingly Victorian that I actually expire.
I have to say I am really appreciating finally being able to lie down. Armrests on airport seating really should be banned.