Warning! This story contains mentions of bodily functions!
I was nearing the end of my first long-term backpacking trip. I’d toured through Europe and Russia, and I was making a mad dash to England to avoid the Schengen Zone rules. I had to get from Warsaw to London and I had to do it fast, but I was on a shoe-string budget. Rather than do the logical thing and splurge on a cheap flight, I decided to go by bus.
I quickly ran into a street-side restaurant to try and get rid of my remaining Polish Zloty, and avoid being at the mercy of the convenience store stops along the way.
I boarded the bus without incident and settled into my seat for a relaxing 24-hour ride to London. An hour into my ride I had that feeling. You know the one. The one that makes you think “Oh my goodness…this is happening. NOW”.
I had two imodium pills with me, which I took in a desperate plea to stop the barrage. Unfortunately, this was no where near enough. I spent the first three hours running between my front-row seats, and the back row bathroom, before a kind old lady took pity on me and offered me her bathroom-side seat.
18 hours of little sleep, many bathrooms stops, and much effort to hydrate myself…on a bus…and it was over.While I was thankful that the event was not over, I had learned another incredibly valuable lesson: I would never buy unknown street-food before a long bus ride, and I would always carry antidiarrheals.
Leave a Reply