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To Spew Or Not To Spew - Wednesday 14th February 2001
T’was 3.30am and I was finally getting some sleep after two nights of very little sleep on the train. Admittedly my room was skanky and small, with a stupid squat toilet, but a room none the less, and at less than 2 pounds a night. Well, there I was, waking up at about 3.30 and I could sense my stomach wasn’t best pleased about something I’d eaten. Damn it - it was getting ready to chunder, I knew it. Being as sleepy as I was, I thought I could hold it off for a bit, and so tried to stay in bed. Well, enough was enough at about 4am so I went into the bathroom/ses-pit and started puking up into a nice bucket that they have in all these indian bathrooms. Disgusting stuff, it’s not that I haven’t been sick before, but when I have, I’ve usually been so drunk anyway that it didn’t hert or bother me at all. Well, urgh, this was disgusting. After about six bouts of coughing up the stuff, I finally decided it was all gone, and so managed to somehow squat over this stupid toilet and let all the world-goodliness come out the other end as well. Regarding the spew - fasciniating really how identical it looked to the indian food that went in, just smelling distinctly more vile with all the byle.
Well, today I’m doing fine though. Took one of those wicked rehydration packets and moved to a nicer hotel at 8am in the morning, and had a few more hours of lovely sleep. Then, spent all day reading Ben Elton’s ‘Stark’ in my room, before going for some very spicy and exotic plain rice and chapati bread in the evening.
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