You´ll be pleased to know I don´t have gory photos to prove it, but yesterday I managed to leave about half a pint of blood in the Retiro!
Off I went for a nice, casual walk in the park with Julie. No sooner had we got into one of the shady avenues, than my left foot disappeared down one of the gulleys that the rainwater drains into and I crashed unceremoniously to the floor.
Slightly embarrassed, I dusted myself off, put some weight on my left foot to see just how badly I´d knackered my ankle and was delighted to find it was OK.
BUT - as I walked away I realised that inexplicably my right foot felt really wet. I looked down and was somewhat surprised to see a pool of blood collecting all over my shoe and on the ground! Somehow in the process I´d taken a massive chunk out of the bottom of my big toe and it was practically spraying blood everywhere.
I made it to a bench and hurled my blood-soaked shoe to the ground, poured most of my bottle of water over it and watched the pink liquid soak into the dust.
The ever-practical Julie headed back to the Info booth and got plasters, scissors, gauze and......alcohol. No, not to drink, but that lovely stuff that it´s such a good idea to pour on open wounds until you remember how much it f**king hurts!! OUCH. And I´ve got a damn high pain threshold.
So for the last 2 days I´ve been wandering about with a toe covered in plasters, limping, trying not to put any weight on that side of my foot.
I´m sure I´ll forgive the Retiro in the end, but for now, I´m a bit miffed!
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