Not a single ambulance. In my three months here, I haven't seen a single emergency vehicle pass the streets of the jungle. Not a single siren or any kind. It's kind of peaceful that way. But obviously there are still accidents. Just that people are able to take care of themselves. Only in very severe cases do they have to call in the helicopter, who then lands on a cleared area and takes the injured back to Port Douglas, I think. Because the nearest hospital, which is a forty-minute ride away (plus crossing the ferry, imagine the nosy tourists and their cameras, there would be no passing through) in Mossman doesn't even have a helipad. On our side of the river, the sick and injured are treated in the local health clinic, or by themselves. Many locals believe in their own herbal and natural treatment of various afflictions. In a way, I do too. That's why it was so surprising that when I showed up one morning and declared with fever, a throbbing headache and a sore throat, that I was sick, my boss stated that he would drive me to the health clinic if I wouldn't improve within the next two hours. Two hours? What kind of fast-paced environment is this, where your body has only a two-hour window to set up its own army of soldiers, establish a proper attack plan and fight this virus? I obviously didn't have a chance, and since I didn't feel up to sitting in a wating room for the next several hours and fill out some forms, I resolved to my back-up plan and took a pill. It helped. For a few hours. Then I was worse. And where ever I went, people recommended me to take a pill. When did humanity stop listening to their bodies? All mine needed, was time. A few days. Rest. Warmth. Water. And after I finally resisted all these pill-offering voices in my weakened state, that's all I did and I got better. Although it took longer than anticipated. The rainforest is no kind place for the sick. Nothing ever dries. If your clothes get wet from rain or sweat, the stay moist and frosty, and have to get exchanged. There is no direct sun to warm your face. No supermarket where to buy instant-noodle soup or tissues. And worst of all, every one else goes on amazing adventures every day and you have to stay in bed and rest. What a sad life. Unluckily for everyone else but luckily for me though, it rained quite a lot during that week, so no one was feeling very adventurous. This dry season is actually very untypically wet, so much so, that some trees are slow in producing the much-needed fruits and berries. As a result, there is a very curious young Cassowary who came wandering through the property in search of food every day this week. And while I'm fascinated by this creature every single time I see him, I'm also wary of the climate change that made him stray that far. In a way that jungle is sick as well.