The Accident

We were asleep in our beds, after a long hot day on the beach at Aghios Georgios, on the island of Corfu. It was the 1990’s and we had fallen asleep to the beat of disco music from the taverna across the road. It was difficult to sleep with so many tourists moving between the bars and nightclubs just below our window. The mosquitos were busy choosing which one of us to bite next. 

We were drifting in and out of sleep when suddenly we heard an almighty crash and screams. We shot out onto our balcony, to see below us a man laying in the road next to an abandoned motorcycle. He was screaming in agony and despite all the people in the street, no one was helping him.

Ina and I worked together in London, in the finance department of a large pharmaceutical company. We worked long hours and from time to time would feel burnt out and ready for a break. She would say to me let’s have a holiday and wouldn’t care where we went, so long as there was a beach, good weather and plenty of sight seeing. I generally made all the arrangements and presented her with a bill and an itinerary. This time we fancied a Greek Island and Corfu hit the spot.

We were both first aiders at work and when we saw what had happened, went into autopilot and ran down to see if we could assist. No one was helping. 

We shouted at a bar tender to call an ambulance and asked the people standing by transfixed, staring at the man, what happened. They said he’d stumbled into the road and was hit by the motorcycle, whose rider had run off into the night. His two hysterical teenage children a boy and girl were sobbing and pleading for someone to help their father. We were the only ones trying to help.

The man’s leg was clearly broken and a bone was poking out of his bloody shin. It was a nasty break. I ran back to our apartment and grabbed towels to try and support his leg and put under his head. After a while a doctor arrived, but refused to touch the patient until he had his medical bag bought to him and could get his latex gloves on. He was muttering on about HIV and dirty tourists. There was no sign of an ambulance and the doctor seemed unable to decide what to do.

The bar tender said the best thing we could do was take the man to the hospital ourselves, as it could be a long time before the ambulance arrived and also that the ambulance would take him to the worst hospital. The doctor seemed reluctant to do very much and didn’t have much in his bag to assist. We suggested using some wood from a broken fence to make a splint. We ended up using our towels and the wood, combined with a tent dressing over the open wound. Binding it either side with bandages from the medical bag. 

The bar tender had got his open back truck around the front and suggested the patient be put on a sun lounger. Several of us supported the man’s legs which were now bound together for support, while a couple of others supported him at his head and shoulders, in order to lift him on the sun lounger, onto the back of the open truck. His children, the bar tender and Ina went with him to the hospital, while I stayed behind to try and get hold of their holiday rep.

The road to the hospital was precarious, with hairpin bends, as they went up the mountain. It took all their strength to keep the sun lounger steady, but the man continued to cry out in pain at every bump in the road. Eventually they arrived at the hospital and attendants came out to help lift him onto a trolley. They all pushed him inside the hospital to the operating theatre, where the surgeon was all gowned up ready and waiting, but was holding a fag in his hand and proceeded to continue smoking while he was asking what happened.

Hours went by before Ina and the children returned. By this time the holiday rep had been located and she asked us to come to her office in the morning to make a statement to the police. She took the children back to her apartment. We tried to get some sleep, but after all the excitement it was difficult. Ina said despite the hospital being a private one, it was filthy dirty and something like you would expect to see in a third world country. We felt sorry for the children who turned out to be 14 and 16 years old and on the first day of their holiday with their single dad. They did not want to phone their mother, who had been reluctant to let them go away with him and it was their first holiday abroad since their parents had separated. 

Next day we reported to the holiday rep who said she had taken the children to visit their father in hospital, but it was going to be difficult as he was due to be in there for some time, before they could repatriate him back home. All the flights were full and because of the seriousness of his broken leg, they would have to remove seats in the aircraft, as he would be a stretcher case. 

Meanwhile the children being under 18 years of age and without a responsible adult, would have to go home on the next available flight. She asked if we were in a position to look after them, but we were due to fly home ourselves that evening. The rep said the hospital did not provide meals for patients, who were reliant on their family to bring them food. So goodness knows how he fared.

The police took statements from us and told us that the bike rider had no insurance and hadn’t passed his test, that he had run from the scene because of this, he was found bleeding, hiding in a nearby field the next day and was now in custody. We never did find out what happened to them all and we never went back to Corfu on holiday.