Imodium or bust

The whole tone of the tour has changed in recent days, with few escaping the ravages of upset stomachs and the location of toilet paper and stashes of Imodium (12 in ten hours being the record) taking on almost obsessive Holy Grail-like importance. Rick, who verges between mocking people for being ill and demanding maximum sympathy and antibiotics when he himself is struck down, has taken to using other people’s loos and often breaking them, adding to the allround distress.

There is genuine concern for Mez who has been by far the worst affected and who has been diagnosed with amoebic dysentery. Things are so serious he was given a non-alcoholic fine. Hobbs is not much better – he has, as the saying goes, gone in the arff – and also has muscle strains, a coldsore and an ear infection to go with his broken knuckle.

Tristan, meanwhile, keeps well by refusing to eat or drink anything not manufactured within 25 miles of central London and his frequent requests for Big Macs meet with bewilderment. We have tried telling him that beef is not really to available here what with cows being sacred and all that, but the poor chap is rather bewildered. It is not hard to see why his last performance review at work contained a request that he stay off fast food for a month.

The girls have all stayed remarkably well – Osha’s cocktail assault aside – even though their fines have started becoming more challenging. Alice deserves special mention for often drinking the fines dished out to the rather delicate Gatesy without complaint or side effect.