Injured and Coming Home

Hospitals love me.

Really, they do.
Regardless of time and space and destination; I always find myself in one, worryingly more so in recent years.

It is unfortunate the feeling isn't mutual.

So my two months stint of Eastern Europe expedite has come to an abrupt halt, after spending four glorious weeks on the road, I found myself tumbled unglamorously down the stairs. After four hours of stubborn denial, I finally succumbed to alternate means of transportation in a form of the ambulance.


In an ambulance heading to AKH - Vienna General Hospital.

I had to admit I cried a little when the medics in their bright shiny uniforms arrived like knights on gallant horses amidst the indifferent, arrogant and unfriendly Austrians (well, not all of them, but definitely most of them, Viennese particularly). Maybe because of the pain, partly because of relief, but mainly due to the fact that, for the first time, a real sense of loneliness seeped in after realising I was truly in a foreign land, all by myself, helpless.

It took me 20 minutes, after being carried up the steps from the metro in a wheelchair by two young Austrian studs, to realise that one of my medics was rather cute. His outbreak indicated his exceptional youth. Definitely feeling a little paedophilic for a fraction of a second. Yea, just a little. Hold your judgemental thought there.

Four more hours and I was sent home, by another friendly Austrian in his two-door sports (erm, maybe I should reconsider my judgement of Austrians), with a brand new and my very virginal cask.



And had my cask signed for the first time (always wanted to do this, well, not so much of getting a cask), by two really helpful friends I recently met in Vienna - an Italian and an Austrian; thanks guys for helping out when I'm all alone and injured and helpless.


I penned down something too. One for the road.
Sarcasm is something I picked up in Eastern Europe.
The people in this part of the world digs humour this way; can't beat 'em, join 'em.

One more hour till boarding time... I'm currently chilling in the crown lounge of KLM at Schiphol Airport, Amsterdam (transiting here from Vienna).



Oh yes, I'm flying Business Class, baby.

This is why you buy insurance when you travel.