I use that term loosely, Darryl and I ate all the same things and HE didn't feel the slightest bit ill. I however managed to have the colon cleanse to end all colon cleanses interspersed by bidet vomiting. You know what's handy? A bidet to vomit in. I saw the contents of last night's dinner in reverse as I yacked it into the bidet. And then I turned on the water and neatly rinsed it out. How convenient. How Euro of me to vomit my hazelnut gelato into a bidet?
By 10 AM the day was starting to slip away and I was no closer to making it farther than eyesight distance from the bathroom. So I convinced Darryl that there was not much else he could do for me and to go alone to Capri. So thus I spent this day of my trip weak, slipping in and out of sleep. My goal for the day? Consume a banana and a bottle of water and keep it down by the time Darryl returned.
|This is the boat Darryl took to Capri. Or it was Ralph Lauren's yacht. He saw that too.|
|Rocks and blue water and stuff.|
|Darryl on Capri|
|The chairlift. That I didn't get to ride. ::sigh::|
|Me and my chamomile tea|
|Darryl's pizza, I couldn't look at the food on the other side of the table, made me queasy.|
|Minestrone, cures what ails ya.|