Sunday 17 January 2010

Phew


















So aar Stav commenced his rampage on the sanity of his parents-to-be by almost preventing us from boarding a flight back to Bangkok – the last leg of our many limbed travels around Thailand. In spite of a letter from our London doctor pre-holiday proclaiming the blooming health of both mother and baby, the Air Asia check-in staff felt it prudent to insist on a hospital check up that was more recent than 3 weeks old.

A palaver clearly loomed on the horizon. We were in a tin pot airport in the middle of nowhere, the plane was taking off in less than 90 minutes, and we had a connecting flight to London in approximately 8 hours. And we couldn’t speak a word of Thai.

But it turns out that extreme panic, wild gesticulation and adopting a high pitched squeak of a tortured hamster can work wonders on eliciting the sympathies of harassed airline staff (hence the cross-eyed oompah loompah look in the photo). Before I could assume my well practised hyperventilation routine, they had informed us that they would look after our bags, bundled us into a taxi and directed it to the hospital (conveniently located but 5 minutes away).

At the hospital, we were almost thwarted in our efforts to make the flight by the fact that every single hospital worker in the building needed to speak to us, but eventually we were ushered into see the nice 12 year old doctor who quickly checked me over, copied out the note from our London doctor to the letter, amending only the date. And so, for the princely sum of £1 we were furnished with what we needed and whisked back to make the flight with just five minutes to go.

Little Stav, troublemaker extraordinaire...

No comments:

Post a Comment