Well, I’ve finally done it. After 3 months of travelling with no sickness, I finally got something here in the beautiful country that is Cambodia. I’ve only been puking, so I suppose it’s only half as bad as it could be, but it’s rocking my world so far. I’m glad the place I was staying had television, as I found myself too nauseous to sleep. This made for a desirable state for catching my bus the next morning. Oh, yes, a 5 hour public bus ride while feeling like I’m on the verge of puking. Sunglasses on, flip flops off, me contorted in some odd position so I can lay down on the seats. Riding along, stop at a rest stop. I got to the bathroom and within seconds I’m puking in a squat toilet in some dank, dark bathroom stall in the middle of nowhere. My aim was correct, which was good, because it came with little warning. Already feeling like it was the longest bus ride in the world, I still have two more hours until my destination. Glorious.

I finally make it there, I’m alive, I hire a motorbike and it takes me to a guesthouse. I’m not overcharged, which is what I love about Cambodia and am taken to the room I’ll be renting. The man asks me if I’m okay, which is another thing I love about Cambodia– real human conversations– and I say I’ve been sick. I wait for the room to be cleaned and then proceed to sleep all day, awaking only to watch the Karate Kid 2 and then later trying to eat some toast and drink some water, since I know I’m terrible dehydrated. If it didn’t make me so nauseous to drink it, I’d happily drink some more. C’mon body, if you need water, you can’t make it painful to drink.

It’s raining, so the coast I’ve travelled to remains unexplored. Hopefully I can get myself to a pharmacy today and find a magic cure. It’s just making me stronger.