Before heading out to collect our gear, we stumbled upon a clinic, so decided to settle at least one of my ailments by a visit to the doctor. The whole thing was arranged very easily, + the doctor, a young man who had practised at Watford. He gave a private examination of my rear end, scabby as you may recall, + informed me I had a close relative of athlete’s foot… athlete’s arse, I suppose. Still, he didn’t seem to think it was anything to worry about, + prescribed a cream. Seeing as he also gave Val another 6 months’ supply of the pill, it was a profitable little side trip.
We then walked out to Dodson Valley to collect the remainder of our belongings. There was no-one home tho’ – perhaps re-inforcing the notion that we were being fobbed off. Our stuff had all been left readily accessible, so all we had to do was re-pack, leave a note + the book we’d bought as a present, + depart. By good fortune, we obtained a ride back to town, left our bags in the Public Relations Office, + spent what was left of the afternoon wandering round town. Performed many chores in the way of shopping, + had much fun, before, eventually, heading out to the mammoth camp ground a couple of miles out of town, on the bus. I phoned Gus, asking him to push Andy on to meet us outside the PRO, then cooked our meal + headed for bed – nothing better to do.
Good to see the throwaway line – “Had much fun” – for otherwise it seemed like a pretty dead day, particularly soured by the way our visit had ended – I said it all yesterday, but such unexplained switches did (and do) trouble us. Still, there was nothing we could do about it, and there were no particular consequences, so time to move on, emotionally as well as physically.
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