BATHROOM SPORTS: (Tel Aviv, Israel)

Following excessive visits to the dungy since the onset of dysentery, it was time to visit the docs. My wife had turned my frequent trips to the bathroom into a game, keeping 'score' and performance-managing my condition. I went to JP and Sarah's Aussie doctor. It was both handy and comforting to find the services of a friendly antipidian medic here in Israel: I had no idea how I would have translated "I've been going like a yo yo" into Hebrew. Even with the language barrier out of the way however, I had to remember the potential cultural misgivings in communicating with our friends from down under. Best 'dumb it down a bit' or put it in a way my sun-burnt chum could understand. I summoned all my cultural flair and explained that "…in the world of 'poo-cricket', I've kept up a fairly impressive batting average, over what's been a fairly gruelling five-day test. I've been in dashing distance of a loo at all times, and just shy of eighty 'runs' to the bathroom has entertained both my wife and restauranteurs alike". He was unamused, but able to make a clear diagnosis: I got a prescription for antibiotics and a superfluous rectal examination (Presumably to stop me being such a Pom and to keep the wise-cracks from re-occurring).

After Maria and Polis's Salvation Army 'forced-feeding programme' in Greece, dysentery was a very timely diet. Be assured, dysentery will be the next big Hollywood weight loss fad….you heard it here first.