Of Life, Love and Toilets

Travelling with a partner is supposed to be a make-or-break sort of thing.

I can definitely see why.

When you’re travelling, not only are you together all the time, but you’re also out of your comfort zone. It’s exciting and fantastic and amazing but it’s also stressful, exhausting and hard work.

Having just spent the best part of three months on the road in South-East Asia with the boyfriend, I feel I should share what I learnt.

Of course, we had all the ‘go team’, ‘we are the best couple ever’ moments; beating down the price of a tuk-tuk, navigating alien public transport, successfully communicating using the international language of Charades and so on.

And of course, we had the odd fight but they were always followed by apologies and laughs about how stubborn, stupid we (I…) could be.

These were all well and good, relationship character-building and whatnot, but I found the moments when we connected and grew the most was when we were sick.

Like sick, sick.

As in ‘I don’t care if it’s squat, Western or I have to dig a damn hole in the ground’ sick…

There truly is nothing quite like emerging from the bathroom to an apprehensive look and the repulsively endearing question.

“How’d you go?”

The conversation that ensues is usually lengthy, descriptive, an emotional rollercoaster and far too graphic to be shared with the internet.

Under normal circumstances, bowel movements are very much taboo (and rightly so).

I mean, even drinks with your closest girls: gossiping about every detail of someone’s size, shape, conquests or lack thereof. But definitely, absolutely not what happened after someone opted for seafood at the dodgy Chinese place on the corner.

The point is (and yes, there is one), I think it’s a little bit special, if a lot weird, gross and creepy, when you find someone that wants to know what no-one ever wants to know.

So next time you feel you need to re-connect with your partner: go down the road to 7/11, buy that egg sandwich and share a romantic dinner knowing how close you will grow because of what will happen in roughly eight hours.

Sharing is caring.


*That said, I am not an open-debate-on-bowel-movements advocate. There are some things that definitely should stay behind closed, locked, preferably exhausted-fanned doors. That shit’s gross.

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