My first thoughts were getting to the hospital but on this day, the Tuesday after the Sunday accident I waited at the hotel for the Collinson call. This came with the usual telephone line being dropped and I was offered two flights. One at 10pm on Wednesday night or one at tea time on Friday from Munich. Anna would get three seats to herself to rest her leg in plaster. The problem here was that there were no midweek flights out of Salzburg and so we’d have to travel further afield. Consulting Anna I took the Wednesday, the logic being that the sooner we got to England then the sooner she’d get the operation and if we arrived on Friday then we may suffer the hospital departments partially closed for the weekend. However, it was clear that we’d not get to York District Hospital before midnight and they didn’t know we were coming! The advice had been to get to a hospital and go into triage.

From this decisive call I went down to the hospital and joined the walkers and holiday makers on the bus. The region had made this and several ski lifts free to encourage tourists. My bus stop, which was about a mile from the hospital was a very pleasant walk. I counted the different nationalities by the variety of number plates. It added up to 10 in a mile. Quite a destination for all and sundry.

Anna (and Helga) were fine although the room was hot due to the sunshine but the staff buzzed about and seemed to cope with the difficulty of catering for a vegetarian, not a usual Austrian problem it appeared! You take for granted the widespread knowledge of English and whilst it didn’t always help overcoming some cultural differences or medical matters I wouldn’t like to be a German speaker in a British hospital.

That night I said goodbye to the hotel staff and guests and packed. Everyone had been as kind and as helpful as they could be. I left the hotel mid-morning by taxi despite not being collected by an ambulance taxi in the late afternoon from the hospital. Frankly, there was nothing to hang about for in Hinterglemm and my mind was elsewhere. The taxi did turn up with a quasi para medic who drove the Mercedes mini bus to Munich.

She was a nice girl but drove like a nutcase on the no speed limit autobahns. Clutching a stress ball in her right hand and swapping lanes to dive in and out of traffic in outer Munich rush hour traffic was an experience you’d usually pay extra for at a theme park. Anna shut her eyes. At the airport we eventually found the Check In desk.

With a wheel chair you cannot move through Security or onto the aircraft without ‘special assistance’. The downside of this is that we experienced an hour and half delay waiting for this ‘special assistance’ to arrive to push Anna. They were simply late and our abandonment by the now empty Check In desk long after the other passengers had disappeared through Security was stressful.

The flight eventually departed at 11.30pm and you can imagine that arriving in Manchester at past 1pm wasn’t ideal. Neither was the absence of the taxi to take her to Manchester. My car was located at a different Terminal and I had the suitcases to collect and move so it always the plan that she would travel separately and more promptly. However, I managed to exit the Baggage Reclaim and Customs before Anna and looked around Arrivals for a bloke with a sign. There wasn’t one. So, I hung around in Arrivals until she emerged. After a delay thinking someone would appear we called Collinson asking where the driver was. We were told that the driver wouldn’t appear and the only solution was to wait longer for someone new. Given we’d lost about 45 minutes through this fiasco we cut our losses and I went to the Terminal 2 and fetched my car to Terminal 1 and loaded Anna into the back seat and off we went to York District Hospital negotiating part of the M1 being closed!

There are 17 sets of traffic lights from the A64 to York District Hospital; we drove though 16 of those on green where I slumped over the counter at A&E Reception at 4am and related our story. They couldn’t have been more responsive or sympathetic to the ordeal and she was quickly wheeled into Triage. Then X Rays and then in front of a doctor. He looked at her X Rays and confirmed what we knew plus explained a little more about the breaks in the tibia and fibia. We were now in the system. Anna couldn’t come home as we couldn’t move her around the house without a zimmer/walker. They kept her in whilst I drove home in the emerging daylight. My head hit the pillow at 6am.

From here we’re waiting for her operation date. Anna remains calm and lots of friends and family have been in touch. We’re grateful for all the kindness and support. If there are some ‘take aways’ to emphasis then make sure you travel with your GHIC and always have travel insurance.

Hospitals wake early and by breakfast, at my hotel, Anna advised on WhatsApp that the consultant had done his rounds and that they wouldn’t operate and insert the pins. The reason that we eventually extracted was that they needed the bed. Had they decided to do the operation then Anna would have had to stay until the swelling of her ankle went down and then there would be further time after the operation in the hospital before she could fly. They had 60 beds at this small hospital and 46 were currently filled by tourists. (It does make you wonder how many hospital beds are filled by tourists in a major attraction like London, albeit the visitors are not probably skiing or walking up and down mountains: it must be hundreds.) So, with this development I called the emergency medical number for our travel insurer – World First. As it is with these organisations they sub contract the trickier medical bit. This medical insurance was provided by Collinson.

They were responsive and opened a case file. The next step was for them to receive a hospital medical report and for me to complete an accident form. They would then decide the best solution. Their reassuring approach made me feel that I was working with a partner and I trotted off to ask for the medical report. However, from here it was frustrating during the day, to create a dialogue between the hospital and the insurer. Obviously we wanted it moving quickly. The initial problem arose when the hospital wouldn’t provide a written report but would discuss it on the phone. That was irritating but they gave us a contact telephone number to call them. That didn’t connect! I found this out by ringing up Collinson at midday and asking how they’d got on? “Oh, we rang and rang but couldn’t get an answer”.  Calming myself I thought why didn’t you ring me back to get the number checked? Moving on, I did amend the number after pressing the hospital for the correct one.

Not all of my calls were easy with Collinson as the quality of phone signal in these areas was patchy and usually you’d drop off the line at a vital point when you were discussing details. Also, when you went back to Collinson you’d have to go through their protocol of re-affirming details before they would put you through to the case handler you were initially speaking to… “Case Number, name of claimant, date of birth and country where the claimant is claiming from”. Now if this sounds a bit ‘clunky’ rather than such a big deal by this stage you know you holiday is over and delivering a solution for your bride is the only focus. Resolving bureaucracy, language barriers with the Austrians, knowing virtually nothing about ankle breaks or their rectification and not least the pressing importance of a timely intervention being met. Add to this the sorting of this out on busy streets with poor mobile telephone connections in burning hot sunshine and knowing time is of the essence made this into an interesting and intensive activity.

Meanwhile I’m on the bus down the 13 miles of valley to the hospital to see Anna, who’s languishing in her two bed Ward with a testy elderly Austrian woman who snaps at the staff and demands coffee and biscuits at precise times in the morning and afternoon. I christened her Helga. One nurse was admonished for not placing her morning newspaper on her bed rather than a table. However, despite this less attractive side to her personality she spoke a bit of English and liked my voice! She told me and the nurses about my dulcet tones and wondered if I was an actor? In fairness, it was an easy mistake to make. On every visit Anna’s calm, well cared for and knows that despite my impatience a solution will come to pass.

After my visit I trooped up to bus stop in the heat, past the delightful lake, where Collinson rang to say that they had now spoken to the hospital. Yippee.

Laura still had details to sort with the hospital and was also disappointed they wouldn’t operate. I had this conversation at the bus stop on the main road as buses and concrete mixers are grumbling past. “Can you hear me?” “Yes, Laura”. The upshot was that if they couldn’t persuade the hospital they’d fly us home. It might seem obvious given our policy but in a state of heightened anxiety this was a comfort. She’d call tomorrow giving me the plan.

I continued up the valley to Hinterglemm and showered for dinner. The breakfast, lunch (pack up) and dinner were fabulous. Given Anna’s absence I’d had to explain to the waitresses and other Inghams holiday makers what had happened initially and given them a day by day report. This was whilst downing a large beer. I suppose this counts as holiday?

Back in the room I had a long accident report to complete and send along with passport details so that new airline tickets could be booked. Was it all straightforward from here with so many transfers and handlers and how would York District Hospital respond with no prior contact when we turned up at Stupid O’Clock with a broken ankle? Anyway that was tomorrow’s challenge. Now it was sleep.

Returning quickly to Anna she was sat on the ground with her legs stretched in front of her with a badly swollen left ankle. It had ballooned in barely seconds. She was in considerable pain, nauseous and couldn’t move the ankle let alone contemplate standing up. 

Beside me was the kind lady who’d called me back. She was an Austrian school teacher who was staying locally with her teenage daughters at an apartment they had in the area. She spoke excellent English, as did her daughters, and assessing the situation that Anna would need carrying down or up the path to a road where a vehicle could access, she rang an emergency number. The person on the end of the line needed directions to where we were and as she spoke German she stayed to facilitate the navigation. It was a blessing to have such assistance.

In about 25 minutes a man appeared and quickly looked at the ankle, presumably confirming Anna needed hospitalisation, and then started to assess the best routes to get her to a vehicle (on a road). From here the lady and daughters said that they could do nothing further, accepted my profuse thanks and went about their original walk up the mountain. Who said there are no angels in Austria? 

In the meanwhile, our official Mountain Rescue man called up another four rescuers who appeared with a stretcher so that they could safely secure Anna onto it and drag her off the mountain. It was about three or four hundred yards downhill to an ambulance.

I was surprised to see a Police van and the ambulance when we got clear of the forest. Anna meanwhile had been jogged around on this bumpy slide but was bearing up and urged me to give some beer money to the hardy souls who’d dragged her off the mountain. The Police just needed to know it was an accident rather than anything more sinister and they were soon on their way. The paramedics loaded Anna up and were off. I’d asked to go along with them to the hospital in the ambulance, 13 miles down the road in Zell-am-See, but was denied. No doubt some protocol.

With her in the best, safe hands I trudged the mile or so downhill back to the hotel to collect some things for her including her Global Health Insurance Card (GHIC) and then hailed a taxi to take me there. Needless to say my mind was flooding with the minutiae of being able to support Anna. For example it seems that several local businesses hide behind (imho) poor mountain internet signals to operate on a cash only basis. The taxi cost €65 in cash. This would be recoverable but how much cash would I need during this crisis to get about etc.? Where was an ATM?

On arrival at the hospital I was directed to the A&E waiting room where passing across the GHIC was met with relief. (I’m sure they would have taken care of the emergency without the opportunity to reclaim but taking away potential problems was a good move.) I was comforted that she was in capable hands but what was happening? Eventually Anna WhatsApp’d me. She’d broken her ankle in two places and was fully X Ray’d but would need an operation to pin the bones. This was when fuck met my old boots. I’d known things were amiss but this was very serious. I went up to the Ward.

As always Anna was calm and resigned to this issue but had to be on an infusion of pain relief for the ankle as it had been ‘reset’ in the correct alignment with lots of pulling and pushing that necessitated a very painful injection. We both quickly agreed that I would have been a hopeless coward had I had to go through this procedure. The initial advice by the hospital was that they would carry out the operation two or three days later.

Her accommodation was a bright, airy and modern room for two female patients with its own loo and shower. There was a TV attached to the bed which was very functional and moved up and down on the push of a switch. The view from the hospital window was sensational.

Floating around were various nurses and other staff. There appeared to be no deprivation or shortage of medics albeit no one would want to be there.

There was nothing more to do and as it was clear she’d be there for some time I took a long list of things to collect and return with the next day. We both started telling the tour operator, family and friends about events on WhatsApp and I returned to the hotel. This I decided to do by the free bus that ran along the valley. It meant walking a mile to the bus stop from the krankenhaus (yes, it sounds like a cartoon name for a hospital) and in the 30° heat/sunshine I caught the bus in a fairly sweaty mess back to Hinterglemm.

So, everything was under control? However, tomorrow a proverbial stick would be thrust into the spokes by the hospital.

To be continued…

So the present Mrs Ives felt that we should follow the 2022 footsteps of our youngest (and husband) to Austria for a walking holiday. Being a part time guide I had the kit and so off we went flying into Salzburg and then took a bus ride with Inghams to Hinterglemm. 

The last time I was in the Salzburg area I was cycling back to York in 2018 from Croatia. The country is undoubtedly beautiful. I’d also spent a lot of time (a long time ago) in Austria or dealing with Austrians. They are or were pre-eminent in making furniture components. It was all familiar and attractive to me. The resort lay at the top of a valley in the west of Austria equidistant between Innsbruck and Salzburg. It was a Saturday when we arrived and town was jumping. The whole place is set up for tourism, whether winter skiers or summer walkers (or mountain bike riders.) It’s chocolate box pretty and the surrounding mountains are awesome.

There must have been a weekend festival as the crowded streets were teeming and the natives were to be found in local garb albeit often the worse for wear as they copiously imbibed. If their merriment was fun to see then the oompah music wasn’t. It amazes me how Austria ever made it to the 21^st Century if this is what they like listening to. Granted it isn’t complicated as each tune was the same as the last one, give or take an odd toot. This cacophony was usually underpinned by a tuba and led by an accordion.

A musical highlight amongst this teutonic torment came when breaking away from this formula they played Smokie’s 1972 hit ‘Living Next Door To Alice’. (Sorry, I’m a geek I know this stuff.) It was a tolerable rendition that was enlivened by the crowd adding at the end of the chorus ‘Who the fuck is Alice?’ A sentiment I could relate to. Anyway as some of the crowd drifted off weaving to their accommodation we also crossed the road to our hotel that sadly was close to the noisy revelry. This din continued until 1.30am I am told. Frustratingly, for Anna, I was well asleep drifting off trying to recall the band members of Smokie.

Breakfast was splendid but passage to the buffet reminded me of the Austrian no nonsense approach to people in their way. This was to ignore them and barrel on. I found this intolerably rude, not least when I stepped aside and there was no ‘thank you’. I too did contemplate barrelling through but chickened out at the thought of being impaled by a plate of scrambled eggs, hash browns and the funny little things the Austrians think are sausages approaching me at 15mph held by a burly Frau with the sense of humour (and the manners) of a pedal bin. 

After breakfast we met with the guide who told us about the walking routes and distributed maps. From here we walked to a cable car and ascended to the top and strolled around.

There were separate paths for all the mountain bikers who were togged up in elbow and knee protectors along with full face helmets. Clearly these chaps had speed on their mind and as us cyclists would say it was very ‘technical’ as the paths wound tightly down the slopes. 

Our initial exertions resulted in a pit stop for a cold soft drink and we solved Austria’s national debt crisis in one fell swoop by paying for the drinks. (I know we talk about the cost of living crisis and inflation in the UK but this place is on another level.)

After this we descended back to the town by walking and using the cable cars.

By this stage the legs are advising that this walking down hill malarky is tiring and tricky but with one small section to go before we reached the bottom we were mercifully out of the very hot sun in a wooded area that had a windy, in places steep, path that was covered in tree roots. I was walking ahead of Anna and was around a corner when a lady walker came back shouting for me to return as “your wife has fallen”. 

…to be continued