ain't no Houellebecq girl (yiskah) wrote,
ain't no Houellebecq girl

Hello LiveJournal, I am in Georgia with slemslempike and jinxremoving! It is largely excellent and we are generally winning at Georgia. All sorts of lovely things have happened, including seeing LOTS OF INTERESTING THINGS, making our way very successfully on various forms of public transport, getting an overnight train from Tbilisi to Batumi and SHOUTING at men who tried to enter our compartment that WE WERE LADIES (turned out one of them was there legitimately, oops), adopting a dog for a day in Batumi, and driving through a flood on our way to the train station in Batumi this morning. We have also eaten various things largely (but not exclusively) composed of bread and cheese (I have also eaten an awful lot of offal), and attempted, mostly unsuccessfully, to go up a variety of structures (though we did successfully climb a tower yesterday). Oh, and we have wholeheartedly adopted the Georgian toasting tradition. Gamarjos!

However perhaps MOST EXCITINGLY we have had MEDICAL DRAMA! The day before yesterday in Batumi we were meandering through a Black Sea-side park, which contained an exciting four-pronged bridge over a load of fountains. We mounted said bridge with enthusiasm; jinxremoving noted the shaky railings and commented that she wasn't sure that the bridge was quite safe, which was a fairly epic example of foreshadowing. For as we dismounted said bridge I slipped on a wet patch, came down hard on my knee, and on limping over to a nearby bench to survey the damage (which Clare had to do because I couldn't bring myself to look), it transpired that the bridge was evidently MADE OF KNIVES as it had gouged quite an impressive chunk out of my knee. Despite my slightly wobbly insistence that it was FINE and that I would just whack some Savlon and a band-aid on it, Clare and Nine persuaded me that it was in fact NOT FINE and perhaps I should seek medical attention. The Bradt Guide was useless in that, despite giving us the Georgian for any number of family relations, it did not give us any indication of how to say 'doctor', 'hospital' or 'my friend appears to have sliced part of her leg off', so Clare had to go off and do impressive miming at a policeman playing pool in the park nearby. He finally came over, offered an impressed 'ooooh' at the state of my knee (which I was still not looking at), and made a quick call - and lo and behold, within about ten minutes an ambulance announced itself with a whoop. However the ambulance was on the road and we were in the park and it couldn't see us, and the policeman tried to call over to it but it was obviously way too far away to hear, and then just as I was starting to despair that the ambulance would speed away without me, suddenly, from nowhere (I swear I am not making this up) A POLICEWOMAN ON A SEGWAY whizzed past at high speed to summon the ambulance, reducing me, Clare and Nine to slightly breathless hysterics.

And then I got to ride in an ambulance! On a stretcher!
And then I got two stitches to hold my leg together! (Without any form of topical anaesthetic! It was deeply unpleasant!)

Unfortunately this has curtailed some of our plans, given that I can't actually bend my leg which means that travelling in mashrutkas is pretty much impossible, as is walking of any significant distance, particularly involving stairs (though I did climb a tower in Batumi yesterday, of which I was proud). But other than that the knee is fine, and building up to what will eventually be a rather impressive scar. Hurrah!

In conclusion, Clare and Nine are very good people to be around if your leg nearly falls off. The end.
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