Sick in Srimangal

After a many houred train ride on a narrow seat, next to a sick man, I, writhing with headache and body aches, tried to sleep to Srimangal where the tea plantations are in Bangladesh; the countryside is brilliantly lush and green, and the small city is a smaller bustled version of Dhaka. I got to my hotel though and begged just to sleep, which is did until the next morning, when my guide picked me up at 8:3o to go trekking in the forest. This leech is just a precursor of things to come; I am still riddled with several black leech marks on my legs - a highly exotic and attractive asset, I might add. The photo of this tumble-down bridge didn't bring confidence to my already sick body, but we trudged along, and I was so happy to be outside and walking that I keep up a good clip until we heard these high pitched whoop in the woods. My guide said it was the Gibbons setting up their territorial boundaries and was I ready to go off trail. Sure, I was game; after all, I'd borrowed a pair of Saad's black socks to wear with my red sandals. When we went "off trail," we really went into the densest tropical forest I've ever experienced with hills, gullies and spiders the size of my fist; however, I can show no more photos because the blogger isn't working. Sigh

I am trying to upload a photo of one of the Gibbons monkeys, which probably won't impress, but they have no tails and yet swing with more physical prowess than I could imagine, flying through the tops of the trees with such acrobatic ease that my heart thudded into my sandals when one went swooping at such speeds and heights. None of my photos actually catches the spirit of the things, so I shall skip it and do more later.

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