Living in another country suddenly means that the tasks you used to think were boring and mundane suddenly become little adventures!
Either that or living with the two kids all week and only seeing the same village has turned me in to a sad bastard!
Luca has got conjunctavitis, so on Thursday Issy arranged for us to see the local doctors to get some medicine. In the UK we had become used to the doctors treating medicine as something only the privileged few were allowed. If any of us needed antibiotics for something we would have to arrive ready prepared with our 10 point argument as to why we should be selected as one of the special few. Normally, of course, we were told to drink liquids and rest and come back in eight years if it hadn’t cleared up. So I was not expecting a whole lot, mainly due to my linguistic capabilities.
Eventually Eliot, Luca and I found the doctors house, his own converted private residence with a room at the back. We waited about ten minutes, which gave Elliot enough time to do his routine of semi-rude French words and an impression of an aggressive lion. I think I will soon know what the French for ‘there is that strange English kid’ is.
The doctor called our name and we went in to be greeted with “Hello I’m Dr Barbarossa, I believe you son has conjunctavitis”. EUREKA! HE SPEAKS ENGLISH!!!! I hardly had to say a word before he proceeded to prescribe about 6 different drops, gels and other medicines to fix Luca’s ailments. Bloody hell!
Here you have to pay for appointments and medicine and then you get a refund of around 80% of the costs, from the French NHS, and the rest also refunded if you have private medical insurance.
My other adventure was on Saturday afternoon when I did the weekly food shop…on my own!! I felt like Indiana Jones (am I building this up too much?). Prepared with Issy’s list I set about the task with professionalism and dedication. In other words not going to the sweetie aisle first. My main aim was to do the whole shop without having to ring Issy for help. I succeeded brilliantly, the fact that I had to phone her six times ‘to see how the kids were’ should be overlooked I think! Eventually I negotiated all the items on the list, even asking the man at the ham counter for six slices! Even when he asked me a question about how thick or thin I wanted it. I wasn’t exactly sure what he was on about, and got even more confused for a second when he used slightly rude looking hand signals! I then went to the cashier and of course she had to ask me a question in the process. I said no and hoped that was correct, she said ‘d’accord’ and carried on. Maybe she asked me if I wanted 1 million euro’s! we will never know!
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