The scariest part of Asia - Food poisioning and safety regulations

Our last few days on Phi Phi didn’t go smoothly. We had lengthened our stay as Adam wanted to do a SCUBA course. I was a seasoned diver and after encouraging him to take a discover scuba dive, he was ready to do the full course. We booked the course and on recommendation from one of the SCUBA instructors, we ate at a nearby ‘hole in the wall’ restaurant. It only took a few hours and Adam was as sick as a dog. Anyone who travels to Asia knows that you’re bound to get sick sooner or later. Yes, you can take precautions, but realistically it’s going to happen anyway. And if you think it’s the same as food poisoning at home, nuh-uh, it’s got another level to it. The lie on the floor of the bathroom hugging the toilet while hoping to die level. The over the counter medication may as well be M&M’s. I spent the next day fetching bland food and water, knowing full well that tomorrow that would be me on the floor.
Three days later and some drugs from the pharmacist, we were able to walk. Unfortunately the drugs had the same side effects as the sickness, so although I would wake up ok, after one of those giant antibiotics, I’d be crippled over in pain and vomiting. The awesome wonders of modern medicine. Adam was feeling better by this stage, although the SCUBA course had gone out the window. We decided to head off to Phuket, mainly because I couldn’t stand being in that room any longer. The move involved a 1 km walk to the wharf and a two hour ferry ride. Adam packed my backpack as I conjured up the mental strength needed for the journey. We were running late for the ferry so I started walking as he fixed up the bill and called a porter. That would have to be one of the longest kilometres of my life. I was hunched over clutching my stomach and my water bottle, while trying to keep my day pack dry from the monsoonal rains. I was taking half steps and Adam soon overtook me. I gave encouragement and told me to meet him at the end of the wharf, he’d get the tickets. I kept going step by step.
At the wharf the porter ditched our bags in the rain and disappeared. Adam was still getting the tickets so I grabbed both 70litre backpacks and my day pack and waddled towards the ferry. When he caught up he took both packs off me and practically threw me onto the boat. Thank god, we’d made it. I promptly went straight to the toilet to throw up. When I made it back to my seat the ferry personnel came around giving everyone plastic bags. “It’s going to be a rough ride.” And true to his word, it was the roughest ferry ride I have ever been in. If I wasn’t embracing death already, I would have been scared shitless. Open ocean yacht racing ain’t got nothing on this! The flat bottomed ferry was banking up to the windows. The thin plastic, Thai made windows... I made a mental note of where the lifejackets were, (opposite end to the exit) and threw up twice more. It was about then that I think I passed out.