The island of Majorca is one of the favorite holiday destinations of German tourists. So I always wanted to visit it, to see with my own eyes, if it was as nice, as everybody said. One year me and my husband finally went there. My first impression was, that it was quite warm but not too hot. A bus carried us from the airport to the north of the island. We don’t like to party all night long with lots of alcohol, as it is common in most parts of the south. We wanted to discover the beautiful landscape, swim in the sea and, if possible, explore the island on bicycles.
The rooms were cozy, the bathroom big and clean and the patio invited us with chairs and a small table to enjoy the silky summer nights. I loved the garden with it palms, cypress and huge oleanders. At the big swimming pool you could rest at a pool-bar, the palms provided shade and the way to the beautiful white sand beach wasn’t too long. The seawater caressed my skin, the wind dried my hair when I stopped swimming. Even though I could have stayed in the water all the time, we decided to rent bicycles, at the third day. You can get quit far at bikes and still see a lot, far more than you see, traveling by car.
In my dreams we bought one of the very nice yellow stone Fincas. This are cottages surrounded by lots of land. Most of them have beautiful gardens and a big pool, defined by a small stone wall, in this very appealing yellow virgin stone. At one side we saw the sea, at the other we looked into the hills. It was a perfect day. The sun didn’t prickle to strong, a soft wind was blowing. I thanked god, that he allowed me to be there.
At this very moment something at my bike collapsed and I fell down so unfortunately, that my shin and fibula broke. Looking at my own leg, that was lying there in a very strange angle, I knew it was broken, before I straightened it. The Police picked me up and drove me to a doctor, who confirmed my diagnosis. An ambulance carried me to the municipal hospital in the south.
The doctor set the bone and plastered the leg. But the x-ray showed, it wasn’t done properly. So they removed the plaster and cut my leg, sawing off the plaster. By the time, I was crying of pain. My husband heard me screaming at the floor. The bones were set again. It hurt like hell.
Some English speaking Doctor told me, surgery had to be done. My husband went back to the hotel to pack our luggage. I refused to get surgery done at Majorca, as I did not have much faith in the capability of doctors, who weren’t able to set the bone at first time and cut into my flesh. The atmosphere in the hospital was loud and busy, I just wanted to go home. I was left in the floor for hours. Nobody took notice of me anymore. Around ten at night, they shoved me into a room, which was still crowded with visitors. At Midnight they were asked to leave. I didn’t get much sleep that night.
My husband arranged the flight back home. My leg is fine today, it took a few month to heal, but I will never forget this special holiday.
M Labisch
Majorca
