There seem to be few that I can think of. Being tied, figuratively rather than literally, to the sofa is not the most enjoyable experience of one’s life. Whilst not exactly longing for the the crush of the daily fight that is known as the Central Line, I am, strangely, missing the morning tactics involved in deciding whether or not to get on that tube or to wait for the next one. Risk analysis in action.
Of course, when normal Central Line service is resumed, I shall perhaps look back fondly at these sofa days.
Armchair travel can be quite a big thing for us all. Armed with a subscription copy of Conde Nast Traveller, I am readily transported to the finest hotels in the most exotic locations, the adverts for non-travel related luxury goods only adding to my armchair luxury lifestyle. A digital edition of National Geographic makes me feel quite worthy and, despite its relative lack of luxury escape, can also send me in a direction of travel (oh, how I am missing management speak too, who’d have thought?). Unable to get to the front door without a bit of effort, I can be experiencing what’s new in shopping in Delhi, restaurants in Oregon and hotels in Frankfurt.
And the reality is only the touchscreen click of finger away. That plus a credit card.
The sofa days have provided a good opportunity to book trips for the summer and next Christmas and to finalise the hotels for a trip at Easter (the orthopod assures me all will be fine then), but these are all things that I would have done later on in the year and would actually have enjoyed chasing down the best deal then rather than now.
And dealing with insurers has been a revelation. I knew that I would have to let them know about this incident, ironically having managed to get myself back to Heathrow in one piece saved them a fortune on the previous trip. I waited to call them until after the visit to the fracture clinic so I could give them details of the most recent x-Ray situation and report back what the orthopod had said in reply to my direct question about whether it would be healed for the forthcoming trip. My very friendly insurers were happy with that advice, do not require it in writing, and will cover the trip because it was booked before the incident.
And then the insurers ask the killer question – have you booked anything since this incident? Oh yes, a flight in August to Bangkok with a side trip to Burma to be arranged and I have booked a trip to India at Christmas (and have booked same airline, same dates, same accommodation as the recent fateful trip, joking to the orthopaedic consultant that I should book an appointment with him in a year too just in case I fall down the same pothole). The nice friendly insurers say that they cannot cover me for these future trips because I have booked them during the currency of a fractured ankle. They can charge me £x amount now as a policy excess charge which will cover me. I point out that they are covering me for a trip at Easter, about 4 and 8 months before the trips for which they will not cover me. I have a fractured ankle. Fractured ankles usually heal. I confirm that I am not awaiting surgery for this fracture either. The ankle is expected to be better by Easter. A fracture does not usually recur unlike some other medical conditions.
They do a bit of computer jiggling and put me on hold. Yippee. As long as the fractured ankle has healed by the time that I go on either of these future trips, they will cover me for any trouble I land myself in (or new pothole into which I fall). Unless I am travelling against medical advice. There is no need to confirm anything in writing and they do not require any medical certification. She laughs when I remind her how much money I probably saved them on the last trip by deliberately not seeking medical attention there, having successfully self-diagnosed what was wrong, adding that I was only thinking of them!
So, back to the sofa to start mugging up on Mandalay and Bagan or Yangon. Nice choices to make.