Monday 30 July 1984.
Lakstasi. Rest Day. 0km. Total 3419km.
The food we are sold is often very old; maybe several years if it is tinned. This morning we are sold a pack of butter that has been hollowed out inside, and then the wrapper put back on to hide the hole. There was also a jar of tomato goulash that had black mould on the top. Something we have eaten must have been bad, because we are now both suddenly ill. The day is spent lying in the small shadow of a tree by the tent, moving round with the sun, going to the toilet, and lying in the tent. We have severe diarrhoea and sickness with weakness and aching. The toilets are unpleasant dirty concrete hole-in-the ground affairs that get a hosing as a clean, so the experience of visiting them so frequently is undesirable. Just before dark, we manage to walk as far as the old baths; mysterious, dark places holding sounds and voices.