Possibly the worst start to any holiday EVER!!!

Having fought our way through Gatwick airport carrying a car seat for Isobelle along with all our other gear (camera equipment, laptop, change bag, toys etc.) we boarded our plane and set off for our holiday in Italy. So far so good.

As the plane starts its descent towards Pisa airport I wake up feeling rather ill. I have never in my life been travel sick so I know just what I'm in for now. About 2 days before Isobelle had been very ill, being sick all through the night and now I have got the bug.

Bugger.

I reach for a sick bag and with only about 5 minutes before we land I'm filling it up.

Some smart alec has torn a small hole in the bottom of the bag so I get sick down my shirt and jeans, nice!

I put that bag inside another and swipe a few spares as we leave the plane.

I feel OK for about 30 minutes but as I stand in the heat waiting for Karen as she picks up the hire car the queasiness comes back, it's going to be a long day.

Well here we are in the car (a Fiat Punto), with a 3 hour drive ahead of us and me supposed to be navigating as they wouldn't insure me to drive (disability discrimination!).

The thing is I couldn't have driven anyway, it was hard enough to read a map which is probably why we missed the turning off the Autostrada and turned a 3 hour journey into a 7 hour ordeal!

Well like I said it is hard to read a map while you're being sick.

We only turned off a couple of junctions to late and thought we could cut across and get back on track but the road signs were pretty irregular.

Eventually we pulled in at a one pump petrol station and I gingerly (no pun intended) got out of the car and walked over to the 2 attendants.

Time to try some Italian (that I'd just read in the guidebook)...

'Par-lah een-gleh-zeh?'
'Noh'
(bugger) 'Doh-veh il San Terenziano?'

So here this guy starts trying to direct me by means of hand gestures and by drawing a map, he even does a 'choo choo' to indicate the railway line we have to cross.

It's at this point that the bile starts to rise in my throat once again, I try to choke it down but I can't get out of my head that I'm about to be sick down this guy who is trying so hard to help me!

Fortunately I'm able to hold it back long enough for him to finish then I try to give him my best 'Grah-tsee-eh' but it comes out rather strained and then I run to the nearest tree and throw up.

What must the guy have thought about me?

So we found San Terenziano now we have to find a man called Mr Gelle in a bar called Sharms, only no-one here speaks English and we don't speak Italian.

I went in shops, bars and just generally wandered around asking the same thing 'Parla Inglese?' but to no avail until some guy stops Karen and asks if he can help (IN ENGLISH!!!).

It turns out I'd actually been in Sharms without knowing it.

Then he tells us that he thinks Me Gelle is on 'Vacationi' (which Karen thinks is a joke) but someone spots Mr Gelle's daughter and calls her over.

Eventually Mr Gelle's sister-in-law is summoned with the keys to our villa and we follow her in our car to our home for the week.

She gives us a tour of the place and though her English is poor it's still better than our Italian, but really I'm just wishing she would leave so I can go have a chat with the toilet bowl.

It's going to be a long night...