I have time so I will make this story a little longer than one word today. The rules are mine to make! First of all, the word of today is: moldscare. With that out of the way, let me elaborate a little.
We’ve been in Spain for a few days now in an Airbnb in Málaga. Ever since arriving though, we’ve been feeling more and more unwell. It’s not like we’re entirely sick, we just aren’t feeling the energy you hope for on your vacation. Instead, we’ve been dragging ourselves through the city, trying to enjoy ourselves but generally being unable to because everything takes so much damn energy. At first, we attributed this to a classic ‘releasing all the stress’ kind of sickness. Something most people experience while unwinding after a long period of general stress and work.
This past night though, I’ve been up with a sore throat — unable to sleep because of it. The moment I had to throw up because I was sick of my own saliva, our suspicions arose rapidly. Charlotte was doing even worse than the day before as well (partly because I kept her up, I must admit). It’s only then that we really started to take that moldy spot in the corner of the room more seriously. Perhaps that was releasing sickening spores that teased our respiratory systems to never before seen levels of irritation? Within the span of 30 minutes we were packed, out the door and on our way to the next destination.
I have notified the Airbnb host of the worrying spot on the ceiling but can’t be sure about its maliciousness as well. Charlotte and I did everything together the past few days, perhaps we simply ate something bad and therefore feel as we do. I guess we’ll never truly know.
What I do know though, is that this message — which is being written on the beach of Torremolinos — is coming from a man who’s much more relaxed than he was this morning. I’m still not feeling like myself just yet but I’m happy we’ve decided to move on. Just a minute ago we witnessed a, rather fierce, ocean surprise a group of unsuspecting people by flooding their sunbathing spots in a sand-loaded wave of terror, coating them and all their belongings in a thick layer of sticky mud. I felt bad for those people and frankly a little self conscious on my elevated bed. At the same time I don’t think I would’ve been able to deal with such perils right now myself. I guess what I’m saying is: things could’ve been a lot worse.