Two nights ago, Tyler came down with the flu (swine maybe, who knows). After one of at least twenty trips to the bathroom he weakly told me he felt like he'd been hit by a truck. Poor guy! We thought it might be the tap water, so I hauled out our filter at 2AM and pumped enough to keep him hydrated. Early this morning we checked with Carla who informed us the water is definitely okay so we're left wondering where he picked up the bug.

Tyler spent the whole the day in one of two positions: sitting on the toilet or lying in the fetal position in bed. When I wasn't making sure he was drinking enough water or changing the cooling bandanna on his fevered head I spent my time taking care of little things like mending a hole in my pants, catching up on my inbox and organizing the handlebar bag.

When night fell, Tyler's symptoms (which had actually been relatively mild throughout the day) all returned with a vengeance. He asked me with the sickest, cutest puppy dog eyes if I would find him some pears. And so I embarked on a nighttime mission to buy the requested pears, other refreshing foods, and a thermometer to add to our first aid kit.

I was surprised by how many people were out at night, men sat at cafes socializing in groups over puffs of chicha, while women and their children carried home bags of groceries and stopped at little bakeries for a snack. I didn't feel uncomfortable in the slightest as a woman alone at night in Tunisia.

Tyler had just started to worry when I finally returned home with all the goodies. His temperature was 101°F; yikes! After he chugged two orange juice boxes and downed three pears in record time we went promptly back to bed. Hopefully he feels better in the morning :(