So unfortunately our trip to do the death road was cancelled, maybe to the slight relief of friends and family (mostly of emma). This was entirely my fault. After a couple of days of Emma not feeling 100%, it was my turn to battle illness. Only unfortunately it hit me like several trains as I will go on to explain. We woke up in time for our tour. Nice and early in the morning - 6.30am. I felt a little funny so I wandered to the toilet. This is where the pain began. Just a warning, from here the post may be a little disgusting at times. Read at your own discretion. Almost instantaneously I went from fine into barely surviving. A quick swivel and I was head into the toilet. It was in this instant that I knew that I couldn't manage a potentially dangerous activity. I trudged slowly back into the room to inform Emma of the bad news. I had to get back into bed. From there I only degraded. As the day went on I got weaker and weaker, feeling more and more sick. This culminated into me throwing up a total of 4 more times. Mostly very uncontrollable. By the last one around 2pm it turned into entirely the water that I had been sipping periodically. This seemed to flush out my system and I was better to an extent. In the entire day we managed to watched a season of two and a half men - what a fun way to spend one of 65 days travelling. I was unable to eat all day. This was not the high point of the trip. Thankfully this did not transcend onto Emma and she remained well. This is a day I hope to forget very soon and hope even more not to experience anything like this. May tomorrow be more fruitful.
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