Tuesday 28th July 2015
“But I need water,” I mumbled, somehow managing to get the words out. Jack was panicking, and I was convinced I was going to die, growing thirstier by the second. My body still refused to stop throwing up, expelling the last of the liquids in me, making me feel even more irritable and shaky. I didn’t want to keep walking through this endless, greenish desert, but I had no choice. We had to keep moving. It was getting darker, and there was no other way out.
Jack stormed ahead, determined to find a solution, and after what felt like an eternity, he finally found a small stream trickling through the cracks in the rocky path. We filled our bottles, and I collapsed onto the ground, not even caring if one of the local bears came and mauled me to death.
When Jack brought me the water, it tasted like soil—earthy and gritty—but I didn’t care. It was the only thing that mattered, and somehow, it was the best thing I had ever tasted. Floating bits of gravel mingled with my gratitude, and all I could do was gulp it down, trying to revive myself.
Jack continued to motivate me down that path, like a soldier determined to get me to safety, but just when I thought it couldn’t get any worse, my sickness decided to take a break from one end and make a debut from the other. Brilliant.
I used the nearest branches as a seat and leaves as paper, and to be honest, I actually found myself enjoying it. For the first time in hours, I felt oddly unrestricted, almost free—like a wild animal.
“But I need water,” I mumbled, somehow managing to get the words out. Jack was panicking, and I was convinced I was going to die, growing thirstier by the second. My body still refused to stop throwing up, expelling the last of the liquids in me, making me feel even more irritable and shaky. I didn’t want to keep walking through this endless, greenish desert, but I had no choice. We had to keep moving. It was getting darker, and there was no other way out.
Jack stormed ahead, determined to find a solution, and after what felt like an eternity, he finally found a small stream trickling through the cracks in the rocky path. We filled our bottles, and I collapsed onto the ground, not even caring if one of the local bears came and mauled me to death.
When Jack brought me the water, it tasted like soil—earthy and gritty—but I didn’t care. It was the only thing that mattered, and somehow, it was the best thing I had ever tasted. Floating bits of gravel mingled with my gratitude, and all I could do was gulp it down, trying to revive myself.
Jack continued to motivate me down that path, like a soldier determined to get me to safety, but just when I thought it couldn’t get any worse, my sickness decided to take a break from one end and make a debut from the other. Brilliant.
I used the nearest branches as a seat and leaves as paper, and to be honest, I actually found myself enjoying it. For the first time in hours, I felt oddly unrestricted, almost free—like a wild animal.
READ PART ONE HERE
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| High Tatra Valleys |
As every second dragged on and my body threatened to collapse, I began to hear familiar sounds—the hum of traffic, and voices in the distance. We were getting close to the end. A car park. A road. We had made it—again. I couldn’t wait to collapse on that bus, head back to the hostel, and sleep for the next century.
It was 7:00pm when the bus finally arrived to take us home. Hot, sweaty, and utterly defeated, I scanned for somewhere to sit, but of course, every available spot was taken. I was so irritable, desperate for a chair to just fall into, knowing exactly what was coming. As locals got on and off, I didn’t even notice the empty seat next to me at first. But it was obvious to everyone around me just how awful I looked—pale, eyes half-closed, swaying from side to side, clutching the pole for dear life.
A woman tapped me on the shoulder, gesturing for me to sit. She smiled cautiously, and I mumbled a quiet “Thank you,” but her smile quickly faded as I violently hurled into an empty plastic bag. I came up for air to see everyone staring at me, and in that moment, I was incredibly grateful to have Jack by my side. He sat next to me, rubbing my back, a knight in shining armour through my vomit-soaked misery.
A woman tapped me on the shoulder, gesturing for me to sit. She smiled cautiously, and I mumbled a quiet “Thank you,” but her smile quickly faded as I violently hurled into an empty plastic bag. I came up for air to see everyone staring at me, and in that moment, I was incredibly grateful to have Jack by my side. He sat next to me, rubbing my back, a knight in shining armour through my vomit-soaked misery.
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| The longest walk of my life, High Tatra Mountains |
When we finally arrived back in the town of Ždiar, my body seemed to find a final burst of energy for the last stretch. I staggered back to the hostel like a zombie on a mission, weakly waving at the guests lounging on the terrace, mumbling a polite greeting whilst stumbling past them and heading straight for my bedroom. I collapsed onto the bed with the same profound appreciation I had felt earlier that morning and instantly fell into a deep, much-needed sleep.
It was ‘Italian night’ at the hostel, and though I loved everything Italian, especially the food, it was the last thing on my mind. I had bigger battles to fight. I spent the night darting to the bathroom, my occasional grunting echoing through the walls, disturbing everyone in the hostel. Despite still feeling terrible, there was a strange sense of contentment that hung around, lingering like a stubborn ghost.
After one final trip to the bathroom, I crawled back into bed. Jack asked how I was feeling, and for the first time in hours, I managed to open my mouth without immediately regretting it. As my exhausted eyes slowly met his, a smirk creeping onto my face, I softly muttered, 'F*** you, Jeff,' and with the faintest of smiles, finally drifted off to sleep.
It was ‘Italian night’ at the hostel, and though I loved everything Italian, especially the food, it was the last thing on my mind. I had bigger battles to fight. I spent the night darting to the bathroom, my occasional grunting echoing through the walls, disturbing everyone in the hostel. Despite still feeling terrible, there was a strange sense of contentment that hung around, lingering like a stubborn ghost.
After one final trip to the bathroom, I crawled back into bed. Jack asked how I was feeling, and for the first time in hours, I managed to open my mouth without immediately regretting it. As my exhausted eyes slowly met his, a smirk creeping onto my face, I softly muttered, 'F*** you, Jeff,' and with the faintest of smiles, finally drifted off to sleep.
