Stung all over my head by jungle bees

As pointed out by one friend, this is another of those 'wow' stories that if not careful sounds like you're showing off and trying to impress other people with how cool your experiences have been. I tell it more because I'm laughing at myself. The jungle yielded a number of such stories; analyse my reasons for telling them any way you will. I hope they're at least entertaining; that's my main intention.

Camping in hammocks strung between saplings deep in the untouched jungle in the mountains towards the Burmese border, Ashton and his men (and a couple of women) gathered wild plants as they could to supplement the meagre fare their porters had brought with them. Their campsite overlooked a brook frequented by the dangerous but elusive wild Gaur and Elepant, and at night they huddled around the campfire to the often inexplicable chorus of jungle sounds, including the crying of a pair of tigers around the camp....

OK enough of that tone. All of the above is true but it's unnecessarily dramatic. We had Thai jungle guides with us as the three of us didn't know the terrain and weren't familiar with all of the dangers. There were always at least 3 guides with us, sometimes four, and sometimes SEVEN guides for three tourists. Hmmm. So that doesn't make us sound so intrepid, does it.

One day I went off to poo, as you do, not too far from camp because of the tigers, but not too close because of the people. This resulted in a rather well-pooed circle at a certain distance from the camp, so you had to watch where you were stepping, as the leaf-litter, though deep, was light and fluffy and you might step through it onto something you didn't want to.

After making my deposit to the Jungle Nutrient Bank, I stood up and took two steps to stand behind a tree to do a tick-check, not wanting to get the uniformly fatal endemic Tick-Borne Encephalitis sooner than necessary.

Suddenly I felt painful sharp stings all over my forehead, ears, and near my eyes. I must have stepped into a jungle bees nest, though I didn't open my eyes to check, and I brushed whatever it was off my face as fast as I could, blundering backwards through the brush, keeping my head low, trying not to panic, and expecting any moment to be swarmed by them and that I'd have to scream and run for my life. However, the attackers chose not to pursue any further; no swarm descended on me. But in the process of my enthusiastic swiping to get them to stop stinging my face, I had knocked my glasses off into the leaf litter. Cautiously I opened my eyes, without moving, and tried to spot my glasses; I knew they couldn't be far away, but of course, I couldn't see them. I looked closely, but they were no-where to be found.

My stings smarting, I wandered with pounding heart and raised adrenaline back to camp, and calmly told the guides I'd been stung all over the head by bees. They shrugged; only one spoke English, but despite the fact that I told them in Thai, I guess my calm body language communicated that it wasn't too much to worry about. So much for getting medical attention. I suppose these particular bees, or wasps, or stinging ants, or whatever it was that swarmed me in that moment, were not going to be life-threatening. Fortunately I had a spare pair of glasses and dared to tip-toe back to the bees' nest site and with their help, found the original pair. Phew!