Ever since moving to the UK I’ve noticed I get car sick a lot more often. The roads in the UK have tons of twists and turns, and manual transmission isn’t always the smoothest ride. That, plus the fact that I’m always the passenger means I’m bound to get car sick at some point in any journey.

Today I went with my mother-in-law to take Mary to the airport, and I knew when I woke up I wasn’t feeling one hundred percent awesome. We ended up leaving about an hour early than we were supposed to because my mother-in-law had to be somewhere at 10am and I think it’s safe to say we all could have used a little more shut eye last night. The ride to Gatwick was totally fine and I was only feeling a little uneasy but I chalked that up to an early morning fueled by one single cup of coffee. It was the ride back from the airport that really turned things around for me. I actually can’t remember the last time I got physically ill from being car sick, but it’s not fun. I was trying so hard to ease my discomfort by breathing deeply and placing my hand on the cold window. Unfortunately, none of that helped and I had to ask Lynn to pull the car over on the side of the country road.

It was all over and done with pretty quickly, and I’m very glad I didn’t have more than coffee in my stomach otherwise it would have been far more embarrassing. Anyway, it was just a quick stop and then we carried on back home, this time with the window rolled down to help keep me from getting car sick again.

When I got home I pretty much just ate a little bit of food and napped on the sofa with Beatrice for five hours. I feel fine now, but what a morning! If I’ve learned anything, it’s to always take a snack and a bottle of water when I get in the car for trips longer than fifteen minutes long. Hopefully I don’t have a repeat of this situation any time soon. Being car sick is not fun.