About 25 years ago, about the time of the beginning of NAFTA, a group of journalists from Atlanta was invited on a media trip to an area just below the border, where American auto companies were already manufacturing, and which become a central auto manufacturing area for cars exported to the U.S.
I don’t remember much about the actual trip, except this one incident with two other members of the group. We had decided to walk around a local town, look for souvenirs and have a drink. We stopped by a very small establishment.
Two of us ordered tequila and local beer, probably a Cuevas, which seemed appropriate given the circumstances. The third had a frozen margarita.
Ah, all that shaved ice. He was sick, severely so, for the rest of the trip.
You would think that that lesson would have stuck with me, and I thought it did. In my last eight years alone, I have lived in/visited eight countries, several of which are known for bad water. In stints in Costa Rica, Indonesia or Thailand I never had a case of food poisoning, or in this case, water poisoning.
Guess it had to happen eventually. I’m sure most travelers have their own versions.
Mine was purely innocent. We were having lunch in Luang Prabang, Laos, a nice little town in the footfills of middle Laos. We were next headed to Vientiane, the capital. For lunch, quite uncharacteristly, I ordered a mango shake. I don’ drink these things but I was curious.
Apparently, the restaurant uses tap water for its shakes, and who knows what else.
By late that evening, I started feeling the effects, but by the next day the fever and all the rest kicked into high gear
The rest of my vacation was basically spent in bed, with one ill-fated tourism attempt.
So be forewarned, or reminded.