Stress->Pain->Migraine->Depression->Basil Fawlty

A.Beauty is back in the states now.

I got sick in Italy and we had to leave early. She was wonderful. I know it couldn't have been easy for her to deal with the situation. I was very stressed before I left, but a vacation turned out to be the wrong cure. I was getting out and doing touristy things for the first few days, two of them were in London, before I met A.Beauty in Rome. I did get to see some of the Rome must-sees and had a great day in Pompeii, but I had been tolerating neck and body pain and a pre-migraine headache that morphed into a bad Migraine that left me unable to leave the room after that. I had brought some old Imitrex with me, but I had too few.

What made it even more difficult is that we were changing cities every day or two, and we had all of A.Beauty's belongings with us, because she was not going back to Rome. I was a useless vegetable. She was wonderful and continued to see the sights everywhere we went.

Stress->Pain->Migraine->Depression->Basil Fawlty.

I was so outraged at the hotel in Siena where we had no heat the first night, we were freezing!And we were rationed 8 hours of heat per 24 the next. The migraine hit full force after spending the first night dressed in multiple layers of clothes, and using towels and our coats in addition to the bedding to keep from freezing. They did not answer the phone all night.
When we checked out I restated my displeasure with their policy of withholding heat from their guests. They were RUDE!! A simple sticker on the heater, warning of their peculiar policy, would have been nice. A warning on their web page would have been even better, so that travelers could stay somewhere else.

I did not conceal my anger, but I did hold back on my overwhelming urge to break into a full, John Cleese as Basil Fawlty rant, ie: "Rationing?! The war ended 60 Bloody years ago! You'd all be speaking German if it wasn't for us!" This would, of course, be accompanied by the high goose-step with two fingers held in mustache position. I decided that I didn't want that to be among the memories of "Mom" that would be told around the Thanksgiving table for generations to come. Though I would get a great laugh if it was!

My perceptive daughter called her Dad and they arranged to get me home asap. I spent the next 2 1/2 weeks in bed in a state of mental mush, with some new Imitrex and Rx for the bronchitis and associated infections that came along for the ride.

"The boot" has been crossed off of my future vacations list; but Venice, which is not in said boot, is still on it, unless I find out the average Venetian is rude, lies, and will shove you down while you are trying to exit a train with your luggage.

We vacationed in Paris a few years ago. Go there. Overall, the Parisians were polite, helpful and classy. And the city really is as beautiful as it is said to be. Don't believe the rumors that say Americans won't feel welcome there.