This was one of those days that you will quickly forget about after you get home, or you would never travel anywhere. We slept badly; a man singing Karaoke at a nearby restaurant, kept bellowing until 4am. It sounded like he was sitting in the bed with us. Ken awoke feeling awful. When he couldn't finish a bowl of his breakfast favorite, Quaker Oats Squares, I knew he was hurting. Perhaps we should have held back and stayed where we were, but it was our third day of boondocking and it was hot. So we set off for the 305 mile 9 - 10 hour drive. The road varied greatly. In Quintana Roo, the state where Cancun is located, tourism is obviously important and they were working on the road in many places. Then we crossed into Campeche state and the road went back to its old tricks. It was narrow and without a shoulder and the drop down was significant. The trailer teetered a few times as Ken struggled to keep it all together. He coughed deep hacking whoops and every time we had a break, he feel asleep immediately. He couldn't bear to eat a thing. Then I began coughing right along with him and food stopped appealing to me, too.
From Campeche state we crossed briefly into Tabasco and then our final state for the day Chiapas. I couldn't wait for it all to be over, but as we pulled into the campground, some of our colleagues who had taken off on their own, warned us about the deep mud. Ken stuffed us into a too small site and collapsed into bed. The electricty is good here and the A/C is blasting. At least we can be comfortable while we are sick.
Our colleagues have offered us a cornucopia of pharmacopeia. Should we just take something? It's Saturday night. Should we go to the doctor? Will we feel better tomorrow? As I write there's thunder and lightening and it's raining hard. How deep will the mud be in the morning? Can we get to a doctor even if we want to?