so gentle readers yesterday was Ireland day on the fantastic island of Ios. it was absolutely mental. apparently it started at 8am in the nightclub Dream followed by a breakfast at the restaurant beside the club then back in to the club (it was pitch black inside when we arrived at the respectable hour of 1.30pm) after the club kicked everyone out at about 2pm we all headed en mass down to the beach, yelling, singing and mainly drinking... love being a paddy sometimes! i would say a modest estimate would be about 400 irish parading through the streets ... we had a police escort down the hill (in case anyone fell and got trampled im sure) then when we hit the beach we stomped our way down to far out beach resort and started the hard partying. most of us bought alcohol in the mini mark
et on the way for ridiculously cheap prices and set about drinking in a side alley.. the term 'panic drinking' was coined!! i will upload photos later when i get the sand out of my camera.. the music was pumping, everyone was in green white and gold and the craic was mighty. that is until i took it upon my self to go for a swim.... cue the nightmare.... i stood on a sea urchin!!! oh yes (the reason for the previous blog is becoming clear) i didnt think much of it tobe honest, couldnt see it in the water and thought i had scratched my foot on a barnacle or something (damn alcohol dulling my senses) anyway when i cameout of the water and couldnt walk it was pretty clear what had happened. so i tried to find my mates, they were ratarsed sitting around a table talking crap, i told them what had happened adn that i needed to go to the hospital.. no one moved (so much for mates) so i limped to the bus in my ireland underwear and 'kiss me im irish' teeshirt (i kid you not this is what i went to the hospital in) the bus dropped me off near it so i hobbled down the road and almost cried when the doc on call told me that there wasnothing he could do and that i just had to soak my foot and apply olive oil (random) that didnt go down so well so i called my parents in tears (sorry for freaking you out dad) managed to get on another bus into the village and limped past a really sweet italian guy i only know in passing who sat me down, got me a tweezers and tried to get the spines out of my foot... he counted about 25 all in all....!!! but he couldnt get any out cos he hated hurting me, so i twas up to me..a trip to the pharmacy later and i was equipped with a blade and determination. i got home eventually and dipped my feet into a hot salty bath and tried to get down to business. i thought i was hard core and would be able to slice into my feet, and i managed to get one out, but it was so so so so painful that i thought i was doing it wrong. so i tried to go to bed to wait til morning.
my flatmates had other ideas though... it was still ireland day for them so they satyed up til 5 am, yelling shouting, playing music and trying to get me involved. i was not a happy camper. might have to seriously think about moving or something. and after last night i dont think that will be really a choice since there is a really good chance that we will get kicked out. will keep you poisted on that one though.
so finally morning comes and i limp down to the doctor. i am his first customer of the morning after the aftermath.his name like everyone else on the island is Yanis (i think its like the greek alternate to the irish patrick/john) he takes a look and is impressed that i knew to get a blade last night. then the worst thing happens (how could it get worse you say) well he had to take a blade to my foot but it was so painful that he had to numb the area first... that actually was the worst part to be honest. but once that was done (5/6 injections over all... have you ever tried to inject your foot... im never getting a tattoo) with a blade and an hour of his time he managed to get all of the bastards out of my foot. i love him forever. although think he is a little shady cos he charged me (well Bupa will cover it) 250 yo yos, but he billed me 350 to claim ( today is my birthday afterall!!)
happy birthday to me....
et on the way for ridiculously cheap prices and set about drinking in a side alley.. the term 'panic drinking' was coined!! i will upload photos later when i get the sand out of my camera.. the music was pumping, everyone was in green white and gold and the craic was mighty. that is until i took it upon my self to go for a swim.... cue the nightmare.... i stood on a sea urchin!!! oh yes (the reason for the previous blog is becoming clear) i didnt think much of it tobe honest, couldnt see it in the water and thought i had scratched my foot on a barnacle or something (damn alcohol dulling my senses) anyway when i cameout of the water and couldnt walk it was pretty clear what had happened. so i tried to find my mates, they were ratarsed sitting around a table talking crap, i told them what had happened adn that i needed to go to the hospital.. no one moved (so much for mates) so i limped to the bus in my ireland underwear and 'kiss me im irish' teeshirt (i kid you not this is what i went to the hospital in) the bus dropped me off near it so i hobbled down the road and almost cried when the doc on call told me that there wasnothing he could do and that i just had to soak my foot and apply olive oil (random) that didnt go down so well so i called my parents in tears (sorry for freaking you out dad) managed to get on another bus into the village and limped past a really sweet italian guy i only know in passing who sat me down, got me a tweezers and tried to get the spines out of my foot... he counted about 25 all in all....!!! but he couldnt get any out cos he hated hurting me, so i twas up to me..a trip to the pharmacy later and i was equipped with a blade and determination. i got home eventually and dipped my feet into a hot salty bath and tried to get down to business. i thought i was hard core and would be able to slice into my feet, and i managed to get one out, but it was so so so so painful that i thought i was doing it wrong. so i tried to go to bed to wait til morning.my flatmates had other ideas though... it was still ireland day for them so they satyed up til 5 am, yelling shouting, playing music and trying to get me involved. i was not a happy camper. might have to seriously think about moving or something. and after last night i dont think that will be really a choice since there is a really good chance that we will get kicked out. will keep you poisted on that one though.
so finally morning comes and i limp down to the doctor. i am his first customer of the morning after the aftermath.his name like everyone else on the island is Yanis (i think its like the greek alternate to the irish patrick/john) he takes a look and is impressed that i knew to get a blade last night. then the worst thing happens (how could it get worse you say) well he had to take a blade to my foot but it was so painful that he had to numb the area first... that actually was the worst part to be honest. but once that was done (5/6 injections over all... have you ever tried to inject your foot... im never getting a tattoo) with a blade and an hour of his time he managed to get all of the bastards out of my foot. i love him forever. although think he is a little shady cos he charged me (well Bupa will cover it) 250 yo yos, but he billed me 350 to claim ( today is my birthday afterall!!)
happy birthday to me....
1 comment:
Oh noooo - my poor little muffin! I miss the daily blog check a few times and there's chaos, injury and mayhem afoot. Yikes. Hope the foot is feeling better and take care of it dammit! Your country needs you next month.
-k.
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