Hospital Visit + Moving Day - Samos to Kuşadası 🇹🇷

Well, we’ve gone almost four months without visiting a foreign hospital. Time to change that today! I got up and had breakfast while Sarah was still sleeping. I soon realised that a certain part of me that doesn’t see the light of day much wasn’t right. No, not my wallet! To put it bluntly, I felt like someone had kicked me in the nuts. ☹️ Not a great way to start the day.

Sarah got up and was chatting to Kate on WhatsApp while I delayed telling her about my problem. I was hoping it would “come right” in typical male fashion. But once she had finished her call, I did tell her—of course. I couldn’t risk us traveling to another country today feeling like this. I needed to get checked out first.

We decided to visit the hospital. As luck would have it, we had walked past the local hospital the other morning when we visited the beaches, so we knew exactly where it was and how far away. Sarah suggested calling a taxi, but I felt I could walk there—slowly. We packed our bags, and since we had to check out of the apartment by 11 a.m., we decided it was best to take them with us. I’m sure we could have left them there if needed, but that would have meant climbing back up the hill later to collect them.

We set off on foot with our bags, stopping at the mini-market for water. It was a slower walk than normal, but we made it fine. Then we had to find the Emergency Department. We were wandering the hospital corridor looking lost when a man came up and helped us find the right place. The nurse said we needed to register at another office down the corridor, back where we had come from, and then return. Oh, and to tell them we were number 26. Luckily, both people we had spoken to so far understood some English.

We registered and went back. We decided to wait outside in the shade, away from the sick people inside. We had to put up with a couple of smokers out there. As we well know—we’re not in New Zealand now! It didn’t take too long, about 40 minutes, before I got called in to see the doctor. He didn’t speak much English, but he didn’t muck around either. After giving things a squeeze and making it more painful, he told me I had an acute infection and wrote down another medical term for it. I would need antibiotics for 10 days. I wasn’t dying and could continue to travel today. That news made me much happier—my stress levels had been pretty elevated until then.

Then the frustration for Sarah began, while I sat trying not to move too much. She took the handwritten prescription from the doctor to the closest pharmacy, about halfway back to the apartment but not up the hill. Not too far, but remember—it’s starting to get hot out there.

She came back saying the pharmacy needed a printed prescription. The nurse and doctor told her they don’t do that for foreigners, so she needed to try another pharmacy. She walked to the main square to two more pharmacies, both of which told her the script legally had to be printed by the hospital. No exceptions. She came back much hotter and much grumpier, then went off again to “discuss things” with the hospital staff. She was gone for ages, and eventually returned to fetch me from the corridor seat where I had gone to escape the smokers. She wasn’t happy!

I had to go back to the doctor again with my passport. After confirming we were from New Zealand and checking my passport number he tapped away on the computer for ages. Finally, we had a printed script, and we headed to the ferry port on foot. I waited there while Sarah went to finally get the antibiotics, probiotics, and some paracetamol. $53 NZD in total, and no charge for the hospital visit.

We sat outside the ferry building for a while, but I was more comfortable standing. With over two hours to wait, I suggested walking to the bakery cafe for coffee. At least their seats might be more comfortable. They were—though still not great. I had a coffee and Sarah had ice cream, which she shared with me. We had already eaten the bakery items Sarah bought earlier in the morning.

At 4 p.m. we walked back to the ferry port and were soon going through customs control to exit Greece. We still have 13 Schengen days up our sleeves, but decided to keep those in case of emergency. Honestly, when I got up this morning, I thought we might have to use them!

The ferry is quite small—just 188 passengers maximum. The sea and wind are very calm this afternoon, and the short 1.5 hour crossing to Turkey is smooth.

We disembark in Kusadasi and line up to go through Turkish border control. By 7 p.m. we are on our way—just a 650m walk to our hotel, some of it up a steep hill. I’m feeling slightly better, and my walking speed has improved since this morning. Still painful, but much better. Sarah is struggling to keep up with me on the uphill bit.

The hotel (yes, hotel—not apartment) is very basic. It’s only 2 stars, but it has a pool and free breakfast. The manager seems nice, he even welcomed us with a Kia ora once he knew we were Kiwi's. We got checked in and shown to our room. The room appears clean, with two beds (a double plus a single), bathroom, TV, and fridge—but not much else. Total cost per night: $129 NZD. 

The call to prayer drifts in through our window overlooking the pool, so there must be a mosque very nearby. A sure way to know that we have entered a new and different country. We’ll explore the local area further tomorrow. For now, we’re just happy to have made it here. In a couple of days, the drugs should have done their thing and I’ll be back to normal. 🤞