The burly good-looking Norwegian guy stood looking down at me expectantly. I´d understood the ´Hi´ but the rest was a blank. It´s been many years since that feeling washed over me. A lost, useless, helpless mix swirling around inside. A weak smile and ´English?´ I asked.
Rather pleased I´d managed to speak in English this time. My normal response to not understanding the language spoken is to reply in Spanish. I know it´s wrong but my brain process goes something like - it´s not English, NOT ENGLISH, speak Spanish then, I do, and more confusion (and embarrassment) is born.
Traditional Sailing Ships, Oslo. Akershus Castle in Background
I´d tripped over, hurt my knee and was limping along the pavement in Oslo when this Norwegian ambulance pulled up at the roadside. His English was excellent, as I found everywhere I went, and he was very practical (or I might have shown myself up even more) suggesting I should have my knee checked out and insisting he give me a lift to my destination when I negated the idea.
The best and cheapest tour guide and ride of my trip dropped me in front of the city hall, (the opposite direction to which I was heading) pointed out the quay and the sailing ship I was going on and vanished in his van. Pretty good service I´d say.
Hurting knee, wet muddy trousers, shocked and feeling rather sorry for myself I hobbled away. I hadn´t fallen over in years, I´d never ever been in an ambulance and I´d never been so far from home alone, so why I had to travel around 3,000 kms and sit on my backside in a plane for 4-hours each way for my first ambulance trip I dunno, I´ve just one complaint - I didn´t get to play with the sirens.
