Back home, the experience lingers. You start eyeing the coleslaw at your local diner with suspicion. You become the friend who asks, “Is the chicken definitely cooked through?” at every backyard BBQ. It changes you—makes you a tiny bit paranoid, a little more grateful for a stomach that usually behaves.
The truth is, travel is a deal with the universe. You trade comfort for wonder, and sometimes you get a side of bacteria. But the next time you book that trip, you’ll pack Pepto-Bismol like a seasoned pro, and you’ll laugh about the 3 AM club over margaritas with friends. Because every misadventure, even a messy one, becomes the story you’ll tell for years. And that, my friend, is worth the risk.
