The time I held five people hostage

Or as I like to think of it, the time we took a taxi to Sepilok

When I decided to write this blog I wanted to capture all of our travel experiences, good and um, hilarious. However, if you are of a sensitive disposition you may want to wait for the next instalment of our travels.

You may recall we left off at the base of Mount Kinabalu, tired but rather pleased with our achievement. Our plan was then to get the express coach to Sepilok – the next stage of our adventure.

While waiting for the bus, we got chatting to two other British couples and decided we would share a taxi minivan to Sepilok. A more expensive option, but quicker as we could leave immediately and we’d be able to chat along the way. Plus we’d get dropped right to our hotel door.

The road from Mount Kinabalu to Sepilok is something of a roller coaster, and our young driver attacked it with gusto. We were happily swapping travel stories when I began to feel queasy. “Crikey, this car sickness is a bit nasty” I thought to myself. Moments later, the car sickness reached crescendo, the driver screeching to a halt just in time for me to dive head first out of the van Tom Daley-style and bring up my lunch in front of our new travelling companions.

Slightly mortified, I got back in the van and gratefully accepted all offers of mints, hand sanitiser and travel sickness tablets, as well as a promotion further up the bus. I settled back in to the journey, as we still had another three and a half hours to go.

A short twenty minutes later, we screeched to a halt again and I performed my second head first dive from the van. At this point, the Express Bus pulled up for a break next to us. The cheaper, more luxurious, vomit free bus. There was an awkward silence as it pulled ahead of us.

Newly promoted to the very front of the minivan, we sped off and overtook the bus, which improved the mood slightly. I closed my eyes and tried to sleep, reasoning I couldn’t puke if I was asleep.

I woke an hour or so later from the most awful dream. I had been stuck, puking violently, on a bus full of strangers. Except it wasn’t a dream, and I was about to go again. Cue the third headfirst dive out of the bus, straight into a ditch where I puked so hard I could barely stand up. You haven’t known undignified until you’ve stood in a roadside ditch and puked an entire noodle out of your nose while four strangers watch you out of the window.

Just as I regained the ability to stand upright a bus sped past us. The cheaper, vomit-free Express Bus. It was our lowest point.

The mood in the minivan was now pretty low, but we managed to make the last hour without any more disasters, and arrived in Sepilok, dropping our now silent travelling companions off first. We didn’t swap email addresses.

To the two other couples sharing our taxi: I’m so sorry you didn’t get the bus. But not as sorry as you are!

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