A Grandstand View of Hale Bopp
Well, we had ticked off the first two peaks of the L'Ofre Ridge, it was a beautiful day and we had scoffed at ourselves for being Brits Abroad and carrying so much spare clothing. As we descended to the second col I trod on loose stones and found myself with my left foot rammed at a sickening angle against a boulder. It happened so quickly I was barely aware of falling. The terrain was too rough for me to move with support on either side so, in an act of heroism, Phil piggy backed me to the col.
It was decided that Phil, who speaks Spanish, would go to Orient for assistance and he took the map with our position clearly marked. It was now 4 p.m. and we guessed we were there for the night. There was a substantial wall along the ridge and Linda and Iain set to build another wall at right angles. It went dark and cold about 7 p.m. and we shared out all the spare clothing, thermals, fleeces, cagoules, woolly hats, used spare socks for gloves and settles down as best we could, wondering if Phil was OK. Linda confessed that she had often wondered what is was like to spend a night out on the hills - I aim to please.
About 9 a.m. Linda and Iain spotted activity far below on the track on the Soller side of the ridge and said that lights were moving up the hill and we could hear shouts. Linda blew her whistle and Iain shouted, and said that "If this is rescue, then I am very impressed", it also meant that Phil was alright. Then the noise subsided and the lights went away and we felt we had been foolish to think it was anything to do with us.
There was a magnificent canopy of stars, the two mesas - Puig de Alaro and Puig de Sant Miguel were just below us, with all the clusters of light of the nearby towns below them. Hale Bopp made spectacular progress across the sky above the peaks behind us. It was bitterly cold and we admired the fortitude of our friends who had spent the night on the ledge, lightly dressed. My abiding memory is the sight of Linda and Iain silhouetted against the stars and lights, as every hour the ran on the spot and jumped up and down to try and warm up. Then they rubbed my arms and legs. At long last dawn approached and when that wonderful beam of sunlight came round the hills Linda and Iain walked forward to meet it and back in the glorious warmth.
Later on there were signs of activity again on the track on the Soller side and my companions told me they could see afire engine among other vehicles so I worried about how horrible it would be to be taken down on a ladder - then the vehicles moved away. Not long after this there was a shout from the top of the hill to the right of us and a member of the Guardia Civil was waving his arms. The our hero, Sr Felix Roberts*, Iain Ramsbottom*, El presidente, aka Phil Ramsbottom arrived leading a posse of Guardia Civil, a very welcome sight indeed.
The policemen were rather over-excited, climbing on the wall and dashing around like young puppies, but the best thing was they had a radio with them. One young man came to me and indicated that he wished to look at my foot and I assumed he was the first-aid expert. He moved a large stone and placed my foot gently on it - then called his friend, and they posed each side pretending to examine my foot while another took a photograph. Then all the rescue party gathered round me and many photographs were taken, they all seemed to have a cigarette in one hand and a camera in the other. We had discovered that the listening post on the summit of Puig Major makes weird 'Star Wars' noises in the night and I don't know whether they were picking up out rescuers on their radio, but one chap was standing on the wall yelling "Hola Nuclea".
Before long a SAR helicopter arrived and had no trouble landing on the grassy col and all four of us were taken aboard, it was very noisy and very smelly, but the best ride ever. We landed near the hospital in Palma and I was unloaded into am ambulance and taken to the hospital and then down endless corridors and I thought the others would never find me again, but another vehicle had been provided to drive them to the hospital building. I was Whisked into 'Trauma', my clothes were stripped off me and replaced with one of those high fashion backless hospital gowns and various machines were attached to me. Within an hour I had been X-rayed and my fibula was pronounced broken and the ankle dislocated and with ligaments torn away. The senior doctor spoke good English, explained the situation, and said they would operate and keep me in for 8-10 days. When I told him we were due to fly home the next day he said they could immobilise the leg and repatriate me but I must 'consult my orthopaedic surgeon immediately'. Immobilising meant realigning my foot ("just relax"!) and putting a cast on. As my Spanish in minimal, shamefully, I had to keep pleading 'Inglese' to the staff who stuck needles in me fed me pills and eventually the hospital interpreter arrived. Once we had established that I had an E111 form she assured me that all the treatment was free and was not interested in travel insurance. As to my enquires - well, I wanted to 'go' and I can now reveal that the international word is "pee-pee".
I was kept in the hospital overnight. Iain tells me that out our operator was horrified that I was in an ordinary hospital, not a private one, but you don't have a choice when the helicopter pilot is in charge, and as far as I am concerned the treatment was excellent. I was in a two-bed room with en-suite facilities and TV and given care and attention by the staff and especially by the constant visitors to my room mate. There was also a telephone in the room and I was awakened from blissful sleep to a call from a reporter from the local English language newspaper who wanted some exciting copy. I wasn't inclined to give him more than the basic facts, but I needn't have bothered, the subsequent report was a bit of fiction.
Friday afternoon saw me driven to the airport by ambulance to meet Iain and a comfortable flight home. I did seek immediate medical attention at my local hospital, but it was Monday before I received any treatment. I now have a plate and seven screws in my ankle and have been told to expect a long and slow recovery. See you on the hills - someday.
Pam McCallum.
* Names used by Mallorcan media.
