Worst Day Ever

We opened the door to the balcony. The light of dawn hadn't yet filled the market square and the towering ChristmasTree glowed with the screeching dying lights of a birthdaycard that's battery was dying. I do not know why they think this passes for melody. Perhaps to torture the tourists or to give nightmares to the drunks in the bushes.

We shuffled over the cobblestone with the burden of our packs and got seats for the 6am departure down the windy? highland roads. I was already lifting my eyes to the heavens, taking ginger pills, and willing myself to lose consciousness. 3 hours down. With every person bustling on and off I willed myself to sleep. To lose focus on the dips and whips and bumps. And then it was over. We stop in a bus terminal with an odd assortment of people more awake and wideeyed than i. I sat eating sunflower seeds and drinking soda water. Contemplating actual breakfast besides a Clif Bar. But think, I'd better not. We stood in line for the bathroom, got our portion of toilet paper, then more sitting, and watching a cat nearby under a table. And a police officer who won't let us put our feet up on chairs... I turn enviously to the two guys eating chow mein. And the girl with the danish and the other 2 with marshmellows.

An hour and a half later our next bus ride mostly on flat lands through town and into the countryside was blissfully straight but trecherously noisy. As the motor drummed near my front seat and the driver honked at every passerby and passing truck and car. I portioned my sips of water. Finished, reluctantly the last of my dried apple slices, and had more sunflower seeds. And when I saw signs for Wendys... i thought yes, definitely I will go there. If we get there... if we ever get there. I reluctantly said no to leeche nuts in bags and curious pizza slices in plastic. And after 2 passing accidents, a dead dog in the road, I thought for sure I saw a dead cow far up on the left, black and white, just lying there. I leaned in closer to the mocking trash bags, and sighed relief, and turned again to contemplations of the consuming deceptive jungle with its beautiful palm trees and ferns grown up and along them.

By 3:30 we stumbled off the bus and into a quiet but fast and reckless taxi..taxi,taxi,taxi... which dumped us off at a dusty ferry terminal... where I bought more water. Ate a little bit of a Clif Bar and pondered the gentle meandering pace of an hour and a half ride. Was relaxed. Played a card game. Watched the man with the cigar, and wondered who frequented these islands and why did they confiscate mariana's beer.

But 20 minutes in as the ferry drummed along, was simultaneously hit with a 1-2 punch from left to right I began to regret that I didn't take more ginger pills or something stronger and the vibration and steady thwak thwak thwak was pulling me down into the depths of unconsciousness as I willed myself to stay awake and fixed on the horizon, as every close of eye rung a deathnell in my ears. My head dipped down once... again... the sun disappeared and the points became blurred and shades of grey...as the clouds gathered and hung glorious but ominously low. Until an hour in and i was breaking into a clammy, suspicious sweat on my brow, mumbling and angry at God for my delicate equilibrium, how my earth bound nature physically demanded I move slow and was not happy even at efficient speeds breaking over the water or down a mountain. And then I passed out again. And back up. I'm awake. I'm awake.

And asked my new danish friend Allneida for a bag. And up came thrice a clif bar and water, that had been sitting there nonoffensively for not very long. And maybe it was the ginger but the acidity in my stomach was very low, and I know the result could've been much worse. But as she handed me bag after bag, and a tissue... and the sweat dissipated and the tears of sickness crusted onto my salty skin we finally made it into port. I clutched the bag tightly and thought good god, get me the hell off this boat. Having not thrown up because of motion sickness since I was younger I thought, now surely, is this trip going to all at once make me regret climbing mountains, or even leaving the country, and bringing me every few days to the lowest points of low.

Around 630pm we boarded a shuttle to the hotel. And I clenched the handle bar and the window and thought what god forsaken place have I come. This island is death and bramble and pitch darkness as the car sped and curved up over and around, mocking me, and ensuring my complete and utter demise.

By 7 I was listing in the hotel lobbey. Staring at the cup of noodles I was going to try and eat along with some crackers... and nodding no, thumbs down, to all who asked if i was ok.

By 8 I was propped up in my room, feeling better enough to switch the channel from the weather channel to abc... to the small but significant consulation of pushing daisies and I was slowly with each step dipping into the noodles and crackers, and slidding further down on my bed, which my mate julie, gave me the double, bcs she was for 2 seconds feeling better than I was. . . and I turned off the fan as the motion made me more ill... inconceivable but true.

And by 9 I was fully reclined... and slipping blissfully to sleep... where possibly the nightmarish effects of malaria pills, drunken australians and my now very sick roommate kept intruding upon my peace, but so happy was I to be still it didn't seem to matter very much at all.