So recently, at the time of this writing, I had food poisoning. That’s not the whole story. I (most likely) wouldn’t waste your or my time if that were the case. But anyway, my tale begins on a fateful Wednesday morning. It was 7:30 in the Georgian city Kutaisi, and I was trying to rouse myself out of bed. However, this usual daily task was proving to be quite challenging. My legs felt week, my appetite was non-existent (a rarity for me), and a cold chill had settled into my bones. Maybe a little coffee, aka the elixir of life, could help me out, I thought as I finally willed myself to stand. Summoning all my strength, I made a cup and drank it, but it was to no avail. I felt just as bad as I had before. All I wanted to do was curl up and go back to bed… But I didn’t.

A week ago, I had made a booking at a guesthouse in a village called Oni for this night. It was a place I had wanted to visit for over a year now, and I wasn’t going to let some virus stop me. And since Oni was really remote, the only form of public transportation going there was an old Soviet-era marshrutka (sorta like a minibus) which left at 9:00 AM. The station was a 20 minute walk from where I was staying and I was going to get there. Unable to even consider breakfast, I grabbed my backpack and headed for the door.

‘Ok’ I thought to myself, ‘I just need to get to the marshrutka and then I can sit down for hours and be still.’ My legs felt even weaker than before, but the fresh air helped, and eventually I reached my destination. I climbed aboard with a bit of a struggle and only saw a couple open seats far in the back. The vehicle was also packed with supplies and food (likely for the villages along the way). I stumbled through, but as soon as I sat down, I was struck by a wave of nausea. I had to get off.

Putting my backpack on the seat, I quickly hurried to the door (fastest I’d moved all morning) and jumped off. I dry-heaved a bit, but since my stomach was fairly empty, that’s all it was. I looked up and was thankful to see that I was out of view from the marshrutka, so I wouldn’t get the awkward looks later on. I gave myself a few minutes to settle before climbing back on (determination!) I sat back down, but quickly cracked open the window next to me and took a few deep breaths to prevent another wave of nausea. Now all I had to do was sit and get to my destination. Unfortunately, it turned out not to be quite so easy.

A few painful minutes later and the driver got on. He started the engine and we began to move. I still felt uneasy, but the relatively smooth city roads didn’t shake things up too bad. However, those smooth roads did not last for long. No more than 10 minutes later, we pulled off and got on a very uneven dirt road, all the while maintaining the same speed. Instantly, the nausea returned and brought its friend named Throbbing Head Pain. I had nowhere to move, no place to get out, and was crammed in the back seat next to several overweight old men. I had to hold any potential vomit in, or else it was going to be a miserable ride for everyone. The one saving grace I had was that my stomach was completely empty since I hadn’t eaten anything all day.

Minutes seemed like hours, as the shaking would not relent. I couldn’t even look around to appreciate the (presumably) amazing surrounding landscape, since all my energy went into keeping my stomach from erupting. Just shaking, and shaking, and shaking. And then turning, and turning. I must have looked absolutely terrible, but thankfully I didn’t seem to be drawing too much attention. I guess everyone on board must have thought I was drunk and simply shrugged it off. Slowly, one by one, passengers started getting off. Turns out, we were stopping at every small town along the way. I wasn’t quite sure to be happy or upset. On one hand, there were breaks in the vehicle shaking, but on the other, the trip was longer.

Over time, the number of people continued to lessen, but the pain and nausea did not. Using all my strength, I managed to eat a couple bites of bread and sip some water. At least now if I threw up, I probably wouldn’t hit anyone. Surprisingly, though, I managed to keep it down for the time being. Eventually there were just three passengers left on the marshrutka. Four hours had passed since we left Kutaisi. Then we pulled into a little town and stopped. “Oni!” announced the driver. It was my stop. Slowly I crawled off. My legs felt weak and had a little shake to them. Now came the next struggle in my journey: walking to and finding my guesthouse.

I had the address written down, but since I never buy sim cards while traveling (I like to be disconnected sometimes), I couldn’t use the internet to find the place. Knowing I did not have the strength to walk far and wander, I decided to ask people. The first lady I asked ignored me (to be fair though, I asked in Russian). However, the second guy was much more helpful. “Это близко. Иди со мной,” he said. (It is close. Come with me.) I attempted to smile as I thanked him and then used all of my strength to walk. We continued for what seemed like an eternity, but was really only 5 minutes, until we reached a gate. On the door, it read ‘M&B Guesthouse.’ My place.

I walked in and was instantly greeted by a smiling woman with dark hair. She spoke decent English and showed me around the place. Luckily I had a room all to myself. I thanked her and explained that I wasn’t feeling too well, so I was going to have a little rest. She was very understanding and asked if I needed tea or medicine. I replied that they were not needed at the moment. Then I hobbled into the room and collapsed onto the bed.

I layed there in a shivering agony for about an hour an a half. Slowly, it began to feel like my nausea was going away. ‘Maybe now I can try to take up my hostess Eka’s offer for tea. I slowly walked up to the living room and asked for some tea. Happily, she began preparing a cup and placed it in front of me along with a small dish of cookies. I started sipping the tea and decided to eat one of the cookies since I hadn’t eaten anything so far all day. Unfortunately, this turned out to be a mistake. No more than five minutes after I finished, I felt something urgent in the pit of my stomach.

As quickly as I could, I made my way to the bathroom and promptly threw up everything I had just consumed. And then I threw up some bits of yesterday’s dinner too. Surprisingly, I felt a little better. Not good, by any means, but a little less bad. I stood and hobbled back to the bedroom. According to my watch, it was only just 6:00pm. I still had no appetite, but maybe I could drink some water. I sipped a little, but then had to stop. I couldn’t get too carried away. I was in a perplexing situation. I wanted to help myself get better, but all I could do was lay there, writhing and shivering in agony. I attempted to read for a little, but focusing was pretty difficult. Getting up, too, was out of the question. So, I just pretty much layed there for another two hours until I eventually drifted off into sleep. I wasn’t sure what tomorrow would bring, but I was fairly confident that it couldn’t be any worse.

Just over 10 hours later (my longest sleep in at least 5 years), I roused from my slumber. To my pleasant surprise, I no longer felt unbelievably terrible! Even better, I actually felt hungry again. I walked into the living room area and happily asked my hostess for some breakfast. I was back, alive and ready to explore. Food poisoning set be back a day, but it wasn’t going to defeat me! Today, victory goes to man!

And here’s what I got to enjoy once I was feeling better: