The terrible cold we had contracted continued with a vengeance. A lot of coughing jags that were totally uncontrollable. For me, some two weeks after it started, the symptoms had started to diminish, but for Paul who started a week after me, it is still at its height. Even with that, we were looking forward to a visit to Raratonga an island we had stayed at for a week in the past.
When we arrived at Raratonga the ship had to anchor outside the protective coral reef as the harbour is too small to accommodate a large ship. The swell on the ocean was quite high and a 25 knot wind made it even more rough. The captain soon announced that operating tenders to ferry us into the island was unsafe due to the weather, and so he was forced to weigh the anchor and leave...thus another and unexpected sea day. (Heavy sigh) We did circumnavigate the island and so...we saw it from a distance at least.
Then...we made our way toward Tonga. We crossed the international date line, skipping Oct 30 altogether, bring us to the 31st and my 65th birthday. As if to remind me of my advancing age and my entry into the senior citizens' world, I developed a serious gastro problem. I could keep nothing down, or in. So...a second visit with members of the medical team who tell me I have contracted Norovirus and then put me, and Paul into quarantine. Who knows how long we will be confined to our cabin! I know this is to protect others from contracting the same thing and know also that it is necessary...but really who could have guessed this would happen! Paul's comment between coughing fits..."This is the last time we will be on one of these disease boxes"!
I usually look on the bright side...but it is difficult! I guess I am lucky to have a balcony so I can sit outside and our fourth Covid test has come back negative...so...there is that I suppose.
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