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Col Booth reckons you’re not really sick in the tropics until you’ve had malaria for three days, develop a dose of true eye-of-the-needle trots plus a vomiting wog and are sitting on the toilet going at both ends with a bucket in front kindly provided by your wife. Next is a quick visit from a tropical doctor who turns you over, jabs a hypo that feels like a three-inch nail in your buttock causing a muscle spasm that results in broken needle in bum and you howling in pain. “You never get malaria after that,” says Masta Col. Would you say he’s talking from personal experience?

Colin Huggins replies, “I have no great interest in how big the needle was that went into a backside, nor how it felt. However the description of said needle and the howls of horror I do find amusing. I am also delighted that the family Booth keeps its toilet floor clean. Cleanliness is close the Godliness so you are to be admired”.

Colin Huggins tells me he has “an atrocious case of flu and will have to get a ridiculous medical report for work. Due to a severe bout of malaria in that tropical paradise called New Guinea, I have very low resistance to bugs of any sort. I sign off amid sniffles etc and back to the lemon juice and Panadol! The Insipid Huggibear”.