Sunday 11 July 2010

Postcard number 6

My recent holiday escapades have stirred me into writing a poem:

I fell down a hole in Nantucket.
Fuck it.

Yes, dear readers, as is all too often the case with me, I fell over in the street. 

Not through drink, drugs, snow and ice or pools of oil.  No, I was walking across a road, having just moments earlier disembarked from the high-speed ferry to Nantucket, put my foot in a hole and went down like a ton of bricks. 

I think I managed to make contact with the Tarmac with every single possible body part except my face. Apparently there was a yelp, then the sound of a large woman hitting the ground. My swearing was done quietly, as I have been very aware how little bad language there is on the streets around here.

I sat there briefly, registering the fact that I was now on the middle of the pedestrian crossing, a crowd of concerned bystanders and a queue of interested traffic all looking at me. The next thing I registered was how much my ankle hurt. Oh yes indeedy. 

Mr WithaY and a very kind young community officer bloke helped me up, and I hopped into a nearby cafe to inspect the damage.

Ankle, sprained, 1
Elbow, skinned and bleeding, 1
Knee, skinned and bruised, 2
Hand, grazed and studded with gravel, 2
Dignity missing, presumed dead.

My arch enemy Doctor Gravity had struck once more.  He's always one step ahead, curse him.

The people in the cafe were lovely - The Easy Street Cafe I think it was, go and buy breakfast from them if you get the opportunity - and I sat with ice on my ankle and a sweet coffee for a little while, sniffling piteously. Once I felt better we continued on to look at the whaling museum.

As it was still closed (we'd caught the early ferry) Mr WithaY went and found a chemist and bought me some special sticks-to-itself strapping for my ankle, and a plaster for my elbow so I was able to hobble about more easy. Then we went to look round the museum.

We were in there for well over 2 hours. It was fascinating. They have several films and presentations you can sit and watch, which we did, as well as all the stuff in cases. Oh, and a sperm whale skeleton that they took from an unfortunate whale that washed up onto the island dead a few years ago. The people who'd been involved in disassembling the dead whale talked about what a long, slow, smelly, filthy process it was, which gave an extra perspective to the whaling exhibits. It must have been appalling on board those ships.

After the museum we found a place to eat lunch, then I found a friendly coffee shop to park myself. Mr WithaY and our mate went for a walk and climbed up to the top of one of the church towers to admire the view. I sat with my bandaged foot up and read the paper and had an iced latte.   

A little later on, we caught a bus across the island to Sconset (sp?) where I sat and minded the bags while Mr WithaY and our lovely hostess went for a short stroll to look at the cottages. A sea fog was rolling in, making everything look eerie, which I liked very much.

Yesterday was mostly spent sitting grumpily on the sofa with my foot up, watching tv and whining how much everything hurt. 

The sticks-to-itself bandage strapping stuff, it turns out, also sticks to your skin. I peeled it off and then had a few hours of exquisite pain where I had to keep cold wet cloths wrapped around my foot to try and alleviate the burning feeling that the bandage had caused.   Oh how I laughed.

Today, I am more cheerful. We have a cunning plan.

There is a craft fair on the common which we are going to go and look around, but first our lovely hostess is going across the street to see if we can borrow a walking stick from the assisted living place. If they say no, I will just have to limp and grumble. If they say yes, I will get to limp, grumble and poke things with a stick.

Despite the clumsy and entirely predictable fall/sprain/whining scenario, I am still having a lovely holiday. Tomorrow's our last day on the Cape before we head back up to Boston, and then back to the UK on Wednesday. 

I hope the vegetables in the garden are all still alive.   

5 comments:

Spen said...

Oh how I laughed....at the Doctor Gravity reference not you falling again. I have witnessed you falling. Nobody does it with such determination and professionalism as you do. I hope you are feeling better soon.

badgerdaddy said...

I'd love to visit that museum. Does Nathaniel Philbrick work there or not?

Mr Farty said...

Falling is a bugger, innit?

We've got a whale skeleton in our museum too. It never occurred to me about the smell until now.

Get well soon etc. and I hope you enjoy the rest of your holiday without further mishaps.

Small Town Girl said...

Oh, sorry about your fall ! Hope you get well soon...
However, the place, the museum and the trip.. they all sound lovely...

How can it be already one month since you went ?
Welcome Back ! Hope you had a safe flight...

Middle Sis said...

I remember the whale teeth Mr. Withay showed us. Oh, the smell!