This was an unexpected trip. My daughter, Gemma had planned a 6 week travel in India before taking up a new job. she invited Stuart and I to join her for the last two weeks, in Rajasthan. Both of us have always been keen to visit India. Stuart is semi-retired and I am about to begin a job in the charity sector. So we had the time. The problem was the timing. We would have to fly to India only 48 hours after returning from Africa. It was a ridiculous idea. Of course we said yes.
Although it was not an education project, it was an opportunity to see a new country and engage with a new culture so I decided to continue the blog for this trip.
The return from Africa passed in a flurry of family catch ups, phone calls, laundry and mail. It was all going so well. We were leaving the next day. Everything was ticked off the To Do list; cases packed, chicken care sorted, fridge cleared etc. I can admit that I was feeling a little smug. There was no problem with our fast paced, continent-hopping. What was all the fuss about?
On the way to bed, I went to get some water. I slipped, twisted, fell and slammed my foot against a solid, wooden cupboard. Quite a circus trick! Eye- watering pain pulsed through my body. I hobbled to bed. If I didn’t think about it, then it couldn’t have happened. If it hadn’t happened, then it couldn’t possibly affect my trip to India. The plan was painkillers and denial.
Next morning, I examine my very swollen, purple and black, right foot. I realise that I have probably broken two toes. I have some experience in this area. It is the fifth time I have broken my toes – bizzarely, it always seems to happen either the night before I go on holiday or the day I arrive! There is no point in going to the hospital – there is no treatment. I cant fit a shoe on. Oh well – flip flops it is. Looking on the bright side, at least my toes match my nail polish and I’m going to a hot country!
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