Next morning I had a pleasant breakfast of soft boiled eggs, toast and coffee. I asked Theodore if I could negotiate a late check-out. ‘No need’ he said, ‘the room is yours gratis. Stay until your boat sails.’
I asked him for an envelope. I wanted to post back the key to the room I’d stayed in the night before at the taverna at the port. ‘Don’t worry about that. We have an excursion going to Mesta tomorrow and I’ll get them to drop it off.’
A highly resourceful man. A problem solver.
My toe, which I had examined in the bathroom, was swollen into an angry red comma. I wondered if I had broken it. I thought I’d better get it looked at at some point.
The bath was one of those plastic corner shaped jacuzzi things and took up most of the room. It creaked worryingly as I stood in it to shower. I tried to keep the water from going down the sides which were not attached to the wall. I thought how ironic on an island famed for its mastic production.
It was getting steamy. There was a small window at head height, with a moving shadow behind it that I took for a piece of paper. As I unlatched it, in rushed a great flurry of grey, downy feathers that stuck all over my wet body. I looked down. I was completely feathered. As I looked up, staring back at me was a slim pigeon. It had a curious look on its face as it cocked its head to and fro. I slammed the window before it could join me in the bath for its morning ablutions. I rinsed off and unplugged the drain. Big sigh.
Noticing my limp Theodore – the owner – suggested I went to the hospital to be checked out. I thought, well why not? I had all day.
Finding it was no problem and I parked up in front of A&E. You couldn’t do that at home.
Inside there were people lying around on trolleys in various states of disrepair.
They’d put me in a wheel chair in front of a sad looking boy who’d obviously taken a face plant in his school playground. His tongue continuously investigating the place where his front teeth had once resided.
The doctor hemmed and hawed over my toe and the nurse came over to take some bloods. Then I was wheeled up to x-ray. So far so good. They parked me in front of a window worthy of any architect where I could look out at the ocean. I watched tankers and ferries pass, which was interesting at first. But there I stayed for the next six hours. At this point I was seriously considering cancelling my ferry that evening. In the nick of time the doctor turned up, drew up a stool and went through my results on an impressive piece of paper. All in Greek, naturally. But the gist was no bones broken. Not gout although he couldn’t rule it out. In truth he wasn’t sure what the problem was. I got a prescription for antibiotics and anti inflammatories and I hopped it – literally – to the car before the pharmacies closed. Today was early closing…who knew?
Back at the hotel Theodore was charming as ever. Refused to take a penny for the beers I’d had the night before and undercharged me for the room. When I pressed him he pushed the money away. ‘Mr Nic you have already suffered enough today.’
I hotfooted it – again literally – to the port.