First of all, let me assure you that it was never my intention to let my journal languish in an unupdated state for so long. When I left for England and CoRo's minitour at the beginning of this month, I fully expected to be back reporting on their performances and my adventures within a couple of days at most -- but alas! circumstances and my ankle conspired against me.
For the last two weeks, I have been in much physical pain and discomfort; but this has been as nothing compared to the sheer mental anguish I have had to endure at being deprived of the possibility of going online. If this episode has taught me anything at all, it's that I NEVER want to be without Internet access again. I am resolved that as soon as I can move about easily again, I will go out and buy that computer that the world and his wife have been telling me I need for the last year and a half, or however long it's been since I started this journal.
So, what's happened to me, then? Well, íf you've seen my last entry, you'll know that I somehow managed to tear up the ligaments and severely bruise the bone in my left ankle and lower leg at CoRo's Manchester gig, precluding any thought of further travel up North in their wake. Luckily, I have mates in the Manchester area, and they came and took care of me for the first day and a half after my accident. It felt good to be made a fuss of, even if I had to suffer the indignity of going on a potty behind the kitchen door, since the only toilet they had was upstairs. My friends even took me out for a night of stand-up comedy at The Frog and Bucket, to help me take my mind off things and the disappointment of not getting to see Glasgow this time round.
Although my first instinct had been to return home immediately, in the course of making phonecalls to enable me to do just that, I changed my mind and decided to stick to my original plans as much as possible. And so I said goodbye to Manchester and travelled back to Kent and calove, who fussed over me for the next two and a half days. Only then did I fly back to Holland.
And here's where I've been stuck ever since. It didn't take me long to find out that my travel insurance was't likely to pay up (something to do with the fact that according to the smallprint, I should have contacted them as soon as I had my mishap and let them 'repatriate' me), and so it seems I won't be able to recuperate any of the additional cost I've had to incur getting around because of my injury that way. While still in England, everyone advised me to get in touch with a CAB to find out about putting in a personal injuries claim against the club, but I've not had much luck there either. When calove and I went round one, they were closed for essential staff training, and when I rang from home the following week, it turned out they wouldn't return international phonecalls (and who can blame them?). Oh well, at least I had 10 quid off the club manager to pay for a cab to the hotel...
I can't close this entry without mentioning how deeply impressed I was by all the help I received getting around the stations and airports on my crutches. It only took one phonecall to make sure there were buggies, drivers and porters waiting for me at every stage, and they were all the nicest, most cheerful people you can possibly imagine. No request of mine was ever too much for them; one even going so far as to plonk me down in a seat, get me coffee and a bite to eat, and then coming back for me half an hour later with his buggy to take me to a taxi he had hailed on my behalf. Of the train companies, Southern even made sure there was someone on hand to get me safely across the tracks at my final destination!
As for my report on CoRo's tour of England: there's no time for that now, but I daresay hils, calove, bogwitch and roissy0 will have filled you in already. Meanwhile, I've gotten back my pictures, and some of them are really nice! ;-)