I remember the year so well because my skin burned while we
were all by the swimming pool watching Everton beat Sheffield Wednesday 3 – 2
in the FA Cup. Dad sent the 'boys in blue' a telegram before kick-off and my parents
would probably have noticed my skin turning lobster if they were not
celebrating into the early evening.
The source of The Tummy Bug was less obvious. Dad had hired
an open-top Triumph Herald and we trundled round the island from our St Helier
base at the 30mph maximum speed limit. We took in the wonderful scenery; rocky
coves, sandy beaches and the remnants of Nazi occupation during WW2. I
also learned a little French but the most lasting memory is of being confined to
bed with a bottle of Vichy water to help me through the dehydrating symptoms.
It tasted like fish.
Since last Thursday, The Fylde Coast and other parts of
Lancashire have been affected by a water-borne parasite (No, I don’t mean The
Prime Minister, who has been on his holidays) Cryrtosporidium, also known as
The Tummy Bug. What began as a shocking
revelation, (we never have problems with our water supply, except the
obligatory hosepipe ban every time the sun shines for more than two consecutive
days) soon deteriorated into ca complete shambles. Panic buying began in earnest as supermarkets
struggled to restock rapidly dwindling supplies of bottled water. Never before has so much, needed by so many
been provided by so few.
Of course, our British supply of clean, drinkable water
has never been free but as I write, the infestation has lasted a week and
despite their stalwart efforts, United Utilities have only managed to
reduce the level of risk and not eradicate it.
So we face the double whammy of boiling kettles and running up increased
power bills or buying it in bottles. I am reminded that the CEO of Nestle is
quoted as saying that human beings do not have a right to free water and
whether or not he was taken out of context, it has certainly been the case here
this week. Usually, for a mere £36 a month, my family can have a luxury that is
not available in many other parts of the world: Clean drinkable water.
This week reminded me of one of my favourite poems, The
Rhyme of The Ancient Mariner. “Water,
water, everywhere but not a drop to drink.” Here we are, living by the sea
in one of the wettest parts of our lovely island, having to drink bottled water!
Of course I avoided the Nestle Pure variety because of its dubious origins: India and Pakistan have little enough water
without it being diverted and sent over to the US and Europe, depriving poor
people of their only free natural resource.
I also avoid drinking Evian which is naive spelled backwards. Not that I
think someone is taking the mickey, (it is possible that the connotation is purity but nevertheless, I think the Swiss have enough money.) I have
boiled many kettles, filled jugs and placed them in strategic positions around
my domain. It is almost like being on
holiday abroad. The weather has certainly perked up.
In Egypt in 2002, I was exposed to a rather vile variety of
The Tummy Bug that my family now call The Mummy’s Revenge. I was sent to the local doctor because it
laughed in the face of Imodium. It was 45˚C in the shade (a June heatwave even
for the natives) and we were cruising the Nile. Expose to strange bugs,
insects, heat and dirty water is no deterrent to The happy Wanderer. I thrive
on adventure. But this is England, for goodness sake chaps and it just isn’t
cricket? Besides, the sun is up now and this intrepid explorer wants some ice
in her Gin and Tonic.
There’s “water, water everywhere and not a drop to drink!”
We’re boiling kettles by the hour to pour them down the
sink.
There’s a bottle in the fridge door and another for my
teeth.
There’s Volvic on the top shelf, Buxton Water underneath.
Although it rained all Summer long, the land on overflow,
supply up here in Lancashire is running very low,
we're parched as peas,
we’re on our knees for precious H2O.
Come on you water boys! Come on United Utilities!
I can’t drink tea from dawn ‘till dusk, I need to chill my
G and T’s.
This cryptosporidium may be a nasty little bug
but if I catch the
blighter in my sink, I’ll squish him with the plug!Have a good week. Adele
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