I was rock climbing in the south of Thailand, a place called Krabi (living in a jungle bungalow with running water for $10 a night - sweet!). The route I was on was as challenging as I could handle, and the slings for attaching carabiners were not placed well. Add to this the heat, humidity, and a pesky stomach bug, and I should've known better that to even be on that rock. A cute French girl I just met was belaying me - adding another iffy variable. The hard part on the rout was about ten feet above a ledge, and if you don't get your rope set, the fall is quite unpleasant. I was able to verify this fact by taking that fall and landing feet-first on that ledge, crumpling into a screaming heap with a newly-fractured heel. Can we talk about pain for just a sec? Worst ever. It would have been hard for French girl to actually arrest my fall in time, but she might have if she'd have been on her game.
I was carried when possible, but had to crabwalk on three extremities through slippery and treacherous portions of the jungle trail, out to the beach where we flagged a fishing boat to take me to Ao Nang. There I hopped to a tuk tuk (taxi) which took me to a clinic. I was not exactly silent during this ride. I began to fantasize about the comforts of an afterlife, free of the excruciating pain.
Eventually I ended up in an international hospital in Phuket where I received good drugs, many meals, sponge baths, and a metal rod in my heel. I was there for four nights and when I checked out, the bill was only $1500 dollars! Had I been in America I would be paying medical bills for at least 300 years.
The moral of this story: Mademoiselle, if I ever find her, owes me a beer.
For a first date, how about I put a patch on your eye and we sail a pirate ship to Greece? We could zip around the countryside on scooters, drinking wine and eating cheese, then dress up like French artists and paint the sea. We'll film the whole thing for a documentary called “We're Awesome.” I will make you my naughty little European princess...