Camping Bagatelle, Avignon (return visit)

Our train this morning left at eight-fifty. The railway station was only five minutes away. What could possibly go wrong? Well trying to find the station entrance, and then realizing the platform we needed was only accessible by stairs. Lots of stairs. So John had to carry the fully loaded bikes up them. Due to this we arrived on the platform with minutes to spare. Around fifteen minutes later we were back in Avingon. It had taken us nearly three hours to cycle from there yesterday. Perhaps backpacking by train would be an option for future travelling?

By ten we'd booked back into our coco sweet. The receptionist ordered a taxi and by eleven thirty we were in the hospital emergency department. Within a short while Angela was taken through a doorway and John didn't see her again for five and a half hours.

Examination, blood test, X-ray all done, she was finally turfed out of her own room. Word was out, an English person was in the department. The lady in radiologist was beyond excitable. 'You are English. From England?' Apparently so. The department soon filled up, people were standing and sitting on the floor. When she arrived Angela was one of six. Four sat engrossed on their smartphones whilst Angela and a lady in her eighties sat staring at the numerous posters on contraception which was of no use to either of us! The day resulted in Angela being released with instructions to see a nurse every two days to change her dressing. Time to give in. We'd have to return home. Or would we. Nonsense. The nurse assigned to dress Angela's wound wanted it left with no covering. It would heal better. A drop of iodine, of course would help. We are now expecting to stay in Avingon for three night's to give Angela's knee time to heal, and hopefully be able to arrange for a nurse to visit and remove the stitches from her forehead. It will be a week tomorrow since her accident. All she wants to do now is get well and journey on to see the flamingos.