Everyone has vacation stories.
Sometimes they’re great
– stories of new experiences and friends made along the way.
Everyone has vacation stories.
Sometimes they’re great – stories of new experiences and friends made along the way.
But sometimes they make people glad they’re just hearing the story and weren’t there to be a part of it.
Diane Rocha’s story is like that.
It involves thirsty van passengers and a babbling brook in Austria.
But read for yourselves …
It was the summer of 1984 and our family was approaching the last week and a half of a six-week trip throughout western Europe.
There were seven of us in the blue rented minivan: Dad, Mom, Paul (17), Me – Diane – (15), Steve (12), Karen (10) and Aunt Doris, who met us in Austria to travel with us for a few days.
On our way out of Salzburg, Austria, we stopped by a beautiful turquoise river to eat lunch and cool off. Someone – I don’t really remember who – decided to fill an empty orange juice bottle full of the beautiful, “clean” river water to wash down our lunch.
Someone – I’m not going to mention any names – told the us that the rocks cleaned the rushing water, and we could drink it.
The orange juice bottle was passed around the van, all but my mom and Aunt Doris drank the fresh, cool water.
Next stop, Switzerland, to visit a family friend.
Just a few short hours out of Salzburg my younger brother Steve felt sick. It was not uncommon for Steve to feel sick, so we chose to ignore him and told him to “stop whining.”
Once he turned green, we figured we’d better stop.
Steve threw open the door, jumped out of the van and immediately began getting sick.
Almost exactly one minute later Karen joined Steve.
Shortly there after Paul and I jumped out of the van and followed suit.
My dad was the last to get struck with it.
There we were, five of us lined up outside the van on the Austrian highway, violently ill.
We stopped at the nearest drug store hoping to find relief, but not knowing the language, we were unable to communicate our needs very well. What we ended up buying did nothing to help.
Back on the road we saw a U.S. military vehicle. Knowing they would speak English and hoping they would know where we could get Pepto Bismol my dad decided to follow them until they stopped.
We followed them for three hours until they finally stopped for gas.
They helped us as best as they could, but we were all still sick.
Arriving at our friend’s in Switzerland, she had a hearty welcome and an even heartier meal ready for us. The poor woman didn’t know what she was getting herself into. We tried to eat her meal, but shortly after sitting down, we all started getting sick again. We took her one, tiny bathroom, hostage for several hours.
In the final week of our trip we managed to see not only Switzerland, but Italy, Holland and several other countries before heading home.
I don’t remember how long it took for the others to get over the parasite or bacteria that infected us. But for myself, by the time it was over, I had at least one visit to the hospital for a fluid drip and weighed 92 pounds.
It took me several weeks until I finally felt normal.
