This is just a swift (ish) update, because I realise everybody is holding their breath and waiting in anticipation for an update as to what is happening in the lives of Heather and Lyvette. Well wait no more for I shall tell you…

We last left you in Delhi with Lyvette hobbling around in agony with a severed achilles. She was told she needed surgery but had a flight the following day to Perth which she decided she was going to board and thus get the achilles sorted in Australia where she was staying with her uncle who could look after her. As it turns out the hospital in Perth were a pile of s**t. And she was left with no clue as to what was happening with her ankle and in extreme pain. She then flew to Sydney where (thankfully) the hospital was much better. They informed her that the achilles was healing, instead of a 36mm gap it was now 25mm but because it had been almost a month since she ripped it and because it had already been stitched up they didn’t want to reopen it to do surgery on it. Which in itself was confusing as numerous people had told us that a completely torn achilles cannot heal itself but Sydney reassured her it was ok. So this left her immobile and bored but with the pain gradually easing and the knowledge that there was light at the end of the tunnel. I can’t even imagine the pain she went through, I can truly say it was awful and a definite low of our travels. Everyone back home, however, actually praised us on getting this far into our adventure without any major injuries and only a couple of lost toenails, a few drunken faceplants, the occasional missing shoe and one dodgy haircut each. They had little faith. They thought we had done ever so well lasting a whole 21 months relatively unscathed. Until, that is, Lyvette fell down a toilet in India and ripped a relatively important part of her body.

So as Lyvette got high on medication in Australia I boarded the plane back to Manchester to visit my family and friends. This is the furthest we’ve ever been apart fyi. And this is when the parasite showed its true colours. The bowl movements had started a few days earlier in Delhi, but this was nothing uncommon in India (looking back they had probably started a few months earlier) but they really kicked in as soon as I landed on home soil. The side effects included a lot of toilet breaks, nausea and bloatedness, which the doctor informed me was very normal with the parasite that I had. So he gave me antibiotics of which the side effects were a lot of toilet breaks, nausea and bloatedness. Double whammy. Perfect.
I LOVED being home. I loved seeing my family. I loved seeing my friends. Because although we’ve met the best people on our travels my essentials are still where they are meant to be, at home. It was so nice to go back to Manchester and catch up with everybody. It would have been even better if I hadn’t been for Abdul (this is what my cousin kindly named said parasite) and myself and Lyvette spent days messaging each other in our horizontal states.
“My leg is killing me”
“Mate, Abdul is punching my insides out, he’s giving me extreme cramps”
“I have a rip in my achilles tendon and it’s the most pain I’ve ever been in in my life”
“Hang on…I need the toilet”
Etc etc.

And then two weeks later it was time to leave home again and head to Sydney for a cheeky fortnight before the next adventure in New Zealand. I was armed with 7x290g blocks of Galaxy chocolate that Frank, Lyvette’s dad, had (very thoughtfully) given me to pack for Lyvette. That combined with Lyvette’s Soap and Glory requests meant that my bag was fit to burst and my knees actually gave way when I put the bag on my back. I swear it took the entire population of my mums street to sit on it just to zip the bloody thing up. It was 10.5kg when I left India and when I left home it was 16kg. Both my achilles snapped just looking at the sheer size of my new heavy weight bag. Thanks for that Frank.

And 24hrs later we were both in Sydney. I went to a wedding and spent time catching up with friends, keeping Abdul at bay, whilst Lyvette kept herself busy spending time on the sofa with her leg in the air. I really don’t envy her because Australian TV is pants. And her cast is beginning to stink of cheese. Her situation now is that she has to wait a few weeks to get her leg put in a boot, which she is going to have done in Sydney. She had to fly to New Zealand for a night to activate her working holiday visa before returning to Australia. However, funds are running low and it’s a question of how long it will take for her to be mobile enough to head to Auckland and be able to work and how much further treatment/rehab will cost her out here. Because lets face it, it’s sort of important she manages to walk again. And no one wants a cast that stinks of cheese for any longer than they have to.

Now, this blog may appear a tad morbid but I want to emphasise that we have experienced a lot of highs and all in all we are still having an absolute blast. Since our Aus working holiday visa expired in October we’ve had an absolute ball travelling again in our beloved Asia. In the Philippines, we finally found paradise. In Hong Kong, we found one of our new favourite cities and in India we found a parasite and ripped achilles. Just kidding, as usual India blew our minds. In a good way.

On 17^th March I said emotional farewells and boarded the plane to Auckland. Without Lyvette. Ready to start the next travelling chapter in New Zealand. Hoping that I will land on my feet. Hoping that I will find a job in Auckland before my bank account has a heart attack. Hoping that I will love this supposedly beautiful country. But mainly hoping that Lyvette’s achilles will heal before;
a) she dies of boredom
b) her bank account joins mine in the critical condition unit
c) she eats her entire body weight in Galaxy chocolate (courtesy of Frank)

But mainly because I will be gutted for her if she has to fly home.

The past month has been one of highs and lows. Probably the biggest rollercoaster we’ve been on yet. I will be gutted for Lyvette if she has to go home, but obviously her health comes first. I’m remaining hopeful.

My fingers are crossed.

Mainly because this blog is called ‘Two Small Mancunians’. And that’s the way I want it to stay. This mancunian wants to start the next adventure with one of her best friends. Two Small Mancunians, not one. Just the way they started on their ‘6 month’ adventure when they left sunny Manchester 22 months ago.

And lets not forget – for every down there’s an up, so I’m holding out for a Lyvette shaped figure hobbling off the plane in Auckland some time soon…