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It’s a short post. It was a very very very very very long day.

Day 2: I don’t feel so…..

I have photographic evidence that the day started off just fine.

Here is me, being a poser on the boat….

(This and the one beneath from Marta)

 … and looking relatively happy.

Some of these photos I even took myself.

We sleep in:

 then started our day with our new Mediterranean diet- Spanish bread, Jamon, tomatoes, cheese

And then our Captain set sail. It was a little bit cold, there were hints of rain.


That’s the last photo I have of the day.

The pharmacist told me that I couldn’t take the sea-sickness tablets before I felt sick- that I had to wait.

It was too late.

I spent the next 6 or so hours vomiting over the side of the boat. Intermittent time spent clinging to the side of the boat with my eyes closed, perched in the most uncomfortable position imaginable. Moving, opening my eyes, lying down, looking at anything, made me vomit. About two hours in I started begging Andy to stop the boat. About three hours in they made an executive decision to tie me to the boat so that I wouldn’t fall over the side on one of my repeated trips to the edge.

The Captain kept saying ‘Wheeee’ when we went over a particularly big wave. I did not appreciate this.

After about 5 hours, I was so exhausted that, following a few extra vomits for good value, I was able to move my head onto Andy’s lap and cling to him for the remaining hour.

When the boat finally stopped I poured my self into my bed, drank half a cup of tea on the insistence of the crew, and refused to move.

I’m told that everyone else had a lovely dinner of calamari at a local restaurant.

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