25/1/25
Late at night Jonathan started getting stomach cramps and couldn’t sleep. He was tossing and turning for a couple of hours. Then came the removal of his stomach contents into a waste bin. Possibly not the best choice but it was by the bed. At least it wasn’t the floor.
It happened in two goes, but his stomach was inevitably completely empty. We’d brought some electrolytic salt packs with us and they came in handy now. It was hard to keep anything down though. Eventually he got some sleep.
In the morning we decided that cycling on wasn’t going to be a particularly sensible option. Jonathan not only had a magnificent headache but found it hard to bring himself up off the bed. We presumed it was food poisoning, maybe from the peas, but Frankie had eaten them too and she was fine.
We lay around and watched the last, but predictable, episode of Traitors. It was a poor ending. At around 3pm we walked to the shop. Even the sight of the Sok was making Jonathan feel a little nauseous. We got breadsticks, apples and a big glass jar of organic fruit juice. For some reason that seemed appetising to a sick belly. We went up to the BIM too and bought bananas and water trying to get foods recommended as the BRAT diet.
The fresh air felt good to Jonathan and he wished he’d gone outside earlier. We left the balcony door open afterwards to get some fresh air in our room. We entertained ourselves watching The Agency and The Night Agent. Yes, there seems to be a weird theme there but they’re both new shows, it’s not our fault.
We fancied a shower but there was no hot water. We asked at reception and they said 5 minutes as the man darted off. The water didn’t get hot. For some reason we were craving chips. Frankie had been for days. Jonathan liked the idea of bland cooked potatoes. We asked about the hot water on the way out, another 15 minutes..
When we got back with our chips Frankie started to feel like she was nauseous. She didn’t have any stomach cramps and wasn’t sure if she felt ill or not. But she did want to eat her chips. By about 7pm she was throwing them up. Cleverly, into the toilet. It must be Norovirus we concluded. At some point the day before, Jonathan had found it. Perhaps in one of the two toilets he’d visited. Neither had been particularly sanitary. It spreads prolifically and Frankie stood no chance being in the same room.
Surly They Won't Make It 