Travel is so much fun. Communication is even more fun. We went to a pharmacist to buy some anti-itch cream for the inscet bites that John had all over his body after the hotel bed bug saga. The pharmacist was rather abrupt and said he could not supply us with anything unless we had been to a doctor. "Where is there a doctor?" we asked him.
"Over there!" he was rather rude and appeared annoyed to have to be dealing us as he pointed to a building next door.
We walked in to the building which had a whole pile of doctors names on the outside of the building, none of which we could make any sense out of as none of the titles were in my German phrase book. We saw a receiptionist sitting at a counter and approached her with the phrase book at the ready.
We had sorted out the words for "oinment", "stop", "itches", "insect bites" and "please". She had a little more English than we had German. We showed her the bites on John and said we needed some ointment to stop the itches from the insect bites - or lat least, that was our intention.
She asked if we had any x-rays. "No", we answered slightly puzzled. "We don't have any x-rays."
She said she had rung the doctor and he would come in to the surgery and would be with us in half an hour. She invited us to sit and wait.
We sat. We looked around the surgery and tried to figure out what sort of doctor we had just walked in to see. The German phrase book was no use at all.
After about 10 minutes of discussion between ourselves and looking at the German signs around the room, we had got ourselves worked up into a bit of panic thinking that maybe we were about to see an orthopaedic surgeon.
I went up to the receptionist again and asked in English "What sort of doctor is this?" Because that wasnot in my phrase book in German. Then repeated in German - we hoped - " We want to see a doctor about inscet bites. We need somethig to stop the itching."
The receptionist looked again at John's bites, looked at us, talked to her mate behind the counter, then said that she thought we needed to see a dermatogolist. She led us out of the surgery, into the lift, up two floors, and pointed us in the direction of a dermatologist, smiled and left us to it.
We stood outside of the dermatologists surgery, and again discussed our situation. We decided we didn't need to see a dermatoglist. In fact, we decided it was way too hard to see a doctor .
We decided the easiest solution was to try to find another pharmacist who might be more helpful and hopefully would just sell us some antihistamines or an anti itch cream.
But now we had to sneak back down stairs past the receptionist at the front and out the door without her seeing us escaping.
The lift was out. That opened up right in front of her counter. We took the stairs, sidled along the wall of the entrance area then slunk out the front door.
Got in the car, put the GPS on, put in pharmacist and found the next pharmacist. To our immense relief he was much more friendly than the last pharmacist and discussed our bites at length, offered us some anti itch cream.
We didnt need to get xrays taken, have orthopaedic surgery, nor visit a dermatolgist, after all. :)
The bites are even starting to ease up itching.