Saturday the 27th of June
It had finally hit me. I had finally crashed.
My body had sustained itself through the physically challenging fortnight of tourism and local nightlife but upon our final days of touring I was barely scraping through. My Contiki Cough had become relentless to the point I was confined to the sheets of my bed for the course of the day.
That night I gathered enough energy to have one last dinner with my grandma; one last dinner in The Netherlands; one last dinner overseas. We had Chinese in a restaurant a short walking distance from her home. It was an incredible shame that I had fallen sick so close to the end of my holiday so not to be able to enjoy the last few days with my family. I felt a burden to Oma and wished I could have been healthy enough to spend all my time with her!