Traveling long-term isn’t always glamorous. Sometimes, it involves getting sick in the worst possible places and pushing through because, well, the trip doesn’t stop for you.
It All Started with Squid in Koh Lipe
I can pinpoint exactly when my downfall began—Koh Lipe’s Walking Street. It was our last night there, and I had passed by the same bustling squid stall multiple times. People would pick skewers, the vendor would reheat the squid, chop it up, and serve it with spicy sauce. The first night, I hesitated. The second night, I was too full. The third night? I gave in. It wasn’t amazing, but it was good.
The next morning, we took a speedboat to Koh Lanta. Getting on that boat was an adventure in itself. Because of low tide, we had to board a floating pier made of modular plastic pontoons (those wobbly things that shift under your feet), then climb onto a longtail boat that took us to the actual speedboat. Boarding required a mix of agility and strength, pulling yourself up and taking big steps to get on deck. Once we settled in, it was a two-hour ride to Koh Lanta.
Koh Lanta: The 11 Days of Misery begin
We arrived in Koh Lanta starving. Checked into the hotel, short on cash (10,000 baht was due), and the kind Thai receptionist simply said, “Pay tomorrow.” We took a recommendation from a random tourist for lunch, ate, and immediately, it hit me. I barely made it back to the room. Thus began my 11-day battle with stomach issues.
The first two days were the worst. Every 20-30 minutes, I was in the bathroom. Happy Gal grew increasingly concerned, rushing to the pharmacy to get hydration packs and confirming I needed loperamide. But it didn’t stop. After a full day of this, we panicked. I started Ciprofloxacin. By day two, I needed an IV at a nearby clinic. The staff was professional, and what really surprised me was their follow-up a few days later—yes, I had paid them a lot, but that level of care felt different, more personal.
While I was bedridden, the family made the best of it. They found Mr. Pad Thai, a kind vendor who made the girls feel at home, cooking Pad Thai with a smile and handing out mandarins as a thank-you. Sometimes, he forgot to charge people, trusting that they’d pay later. Happy L loved Koh Lanta’s chill vibe and Long Beach, but for me, it was bed, bathroom, and some brief beach walks.
By day four, Cipro wasn’t enough. I added Azithromycin to the mix. It finally gave me the strength to survive the four-hour journey to Ao Nang—a mix of car, waiting, boat, then another car. I took every pill at my disposal just to make it.
Ao Nang: The Breaking Point
The hotel in Ao Nang was a bit more luxurious, which was a relief, but the location wasn’t great. I was still sick. The family mostly stayed at the hotel—reading, lounging by the pool—but we were all starting to lose it. We questioned everything.
Why are we on this trip? Should we go home? Are we just hopping from city to city without really enjoying?
Happy Gal had taken over all the logistics— food, pharmacies, transport—while I lay there, trying to recover. One night, we managed to walk the Monkey Trail, my first real attempt at getting back to normal.
Then, the final straw: Should we cancel Khao Sok? We were supposed to head into a remote jungle, with no public health facilities, staying in an overwater bungalow 30 minutes from civilization. An hour before our private car pickup, we called the airline. There were only three seats available to move our flight up to Kuala Lumpur.
We almost took them. Happy Gal even considered staying overnight at the airport just to get the next flight. We were that desperate.
Then, Happy L spoke up: “I can do it. We need to go to Khao Sok. I’ve been looking forward to it.” Her determination convinced us. Screw Kuala Lumpur. We were going to the jungle.
Khao Sok: A Reward After the Struggle
Khao Sok is a UNESCO World Heritage Site, a breathtaking lake surrounded by lush jungle. Friends from Sit for the Road had recommended it, and we had booked our overwater bungalow months before.
Getting there wasn’t easy. Two hours by car to Khao Sok town, a night in the jungle, then another hour to the pier, followed by a 45-minute boat ride to our floating bungalows. But the extra night in Khao Sok town gave me enough rest to make the journey. While I had lost 15 lbs, my energy was coming back.
And Khao Sok? It was magical.
- Kayaking and longtail boat safaris—we even found a family of 25 monkeys drinking water near the shore.
- Delicious meals—while I could not eat everything, after days of being sick, I finally enjoyed eating again.
- A mysterious jungle trek—billed as an easy walk, it turned out to be a two-hour trek through dense jungle, past signs warning of wild elephants (sadly, no sightings).
- Coral Cave exploration—after trekking through the jungle, we arrived at a hidden lake, where we boarded a bamboo raft to cross over to the entrance of Coral Cave. Inside, we navigated through narrow passages lined with stunning stalactites and stalagmites, the sound of dripping water echoing around us. The cave was home to fascinating rock formations. It was an eerie but incredible experience, feeling like we had stepped into another world.
- A final solo kayak journey—just us and the jungle, watching the sunset, hanging out with monkeys, feeling completely in the moment.
The Takeaway
On our last morning in Khao Sok, as we took the boat back to shore, I finally felt grateful. The sickness, the struggles, the questioning—it had all been worth it.
By the time we reached Kuala Lumpur, I was still not 100%, and now the girls were sick. But somehow, we kept moving forward.
This experience reminded me of an undeniable truth about long-term travel: You don’t always get to choose when challenges hit, but you do get to choose how you push through them. Hope, at least, was not lost.
Khao Sok was our reward for persevering. And I’m grateful we didn’t give up.
