In 1981 I was in the south of France, in St Tropez. I was there in early July because I prefer the quiet part of the season. I don't like the mondain beaches south of St Trop and went to the small beaches close to the harbor, more to the north at the foot of the citadel. It is a 100 m wide and maybe 25 m deep so it is small. One day. I walked to the water when I stepped in a piece of glass. It started to bleed quite a lot so I hobbled back to my towel. I put a handkerchief around my foot but it was still bleeding. A girl offered help with some tissues. It appeared that she was Dutch like me but also a nurse. She told me I have to go to a hospital to get it checked as soon as possible. She knew a sort of hospital nearby and we went in her car to get help.
At the beach I was wearing a string and the only thing I took with me was my wallet and camera. The hospital was a sort of training unit for nurses from a Catholic organisation. Within minutes I was on the examination table and a female doctor was cleaning the wound, assisted by two nurses-to-be. I got a tetanus-shot in my behind and they started to dress the wound. In the meantime every now and then other girls was looking from the dooropening and chased away by the doctor. It was quite some excitement for the Catholic girls to see a guy in a g-string on the table. In the beginning I felt very embarrassed but later I started the attention from the girls. But the doctor did her work cool and professuional as if this was a daily routine.
I got a plastic bag around my foot to be able to walk and I was brought back to my towel at the beach. There we talked a lot and I invited her for dinner to show my appreciation.
I kept my card of the shot as a souvenir.
