No expat should pass up the opportunity to spend a couple of days in hospital in another country, just to enhance the immersive experience.
My weekend jaunt to the local private hospital cost about as much as a weekend at the Dorchester, and was considerably less fun.
The view from my room wasn’t bad
But it was still the same old bare room with hospital bed.
Mind you, the menu was considerably more exciting than the one I had to endure at the Norfolk and Norwich two years ago.
Here’s the breakfast selection
… not a hint of soggy cereal or leathery cold toast.
So I spent a very dull weekend sitting in bed reading the local papers and taking note of the more unusual stories … dog poo jelly anyone?
Luckily my suspected appendicitis turned out not to be and I got parole on Sunday night. The doctor now thinks it was probably food poisoning – so the long list of restaurants I compiled from my hospital bed reading will have to wait a while until my gastronomic appreciation bounces back to 100%.