In July of 2005, I spent a week in Lovere, Italy. We flew into Milan and although I had been told to sleep on the plane, I had very little success. When we arrived, I was very sleepy and we immediately had a meeting to attend. I felt bad but was able to function well enough. After that meeting we had to travel about an hour and a half to get to the city where we were staying. This area of Italy has very many hills and the roads were loaded with curves. Our driver was a man named Armando. Armando was an aggressive driver and spoke practically no English. When someone cut him off at a toll booth, I swear I thought he was going to jump out of the car and beat the other driver up. As we weaved through the mountain roads, I was tossed left and right in the van. The aggressive driving and my lack of sleep started to make me feel terrible. I never get car sick but I started to get sick from this ride. It took me a couple of days to recover from this ride.
