After a short encounter with Immigration at Zurich Airport, the details of which I won't go into just yet, I made my connectng flight to Frankfurt where I was picked up by a driver from the clinic and driven 70 kilometres north-east to Bad Salzhausen, the village in which the clinic is located.

Already the leaves are beginning to turn: there were reds, crimsons, oranges, yellows, and browns silently announcing the arrival of autumn. Large areas of farmland had been harvested. Preparation was underway for the next crop. There were stretches of vivid green pastures. The 27 degree temperature was quite unexpected.

Bad Salzhausen is blessed with huge parklands with cobweb-like walking tracks. It's just a couple of kilometres to nearby villages. Bad Salzhausen appears to be a place visited mostly on weekends. Today was a public holiday. The two outside cafes I saw were filled with patrons eating large slices of cakes accompanied by giant cups of coffee. The town is known for its mineral spas: there are three main ones. I tried the water at one of them. The initial taste was quite overwhelming with salt. The therapeutic value in 'taking the water' is well recognised. The village has its spa pool where you can enjoy the mineralied water at 32 degrees. The population is an ageing one.

I had an IV port put in my arm this evening. It will remain until my treatment is complete. It made me feel like a cancer patient for the first time. I don't like feeling this way. I suppose it comes from the association I make between an IV port and the administration of chemotherapy. I was given Vitamin C snd B intravenously. This will occur for the first three days.
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I'm enjoying the food which is largely vegetarian but unlike that to which I've been
subjected while a hospital patient, or that I've seen when visiting a hospital.

I watched TV until midnight in the belief that if I went sleep really tired I would have the best chance of getting my sleep pattern in order much quicker than my two recent substantial time zone changes. I flicted between CNN which was covering the acquittal for murder by an appeals court in Farrugia, Italy of the young American woman who has been in prison for the past four years, and the German equivalent of the Oscars. The film awards occupied most of my time. As the cameras panned across the crowd there were none of those post-pubescent types you see at the
Oscars: it was a much more mature audience, as were the recipients of the vast majority of the awards. One of the pre-award ceremony interviewers, a man, demonstrated a couple of unfamiliar techniques, ones you wouldn't see at the Oscars, or in Australia. He asked the women to open their purses to reveal what they had inside, and later, after positioning himself near the women's toilets, stopped those leaving and enquired how they managed to keep their hemlines off the toilet floor. The women played along and didn't appear in the least embarrassed. I found this 'open' approach quite refreshing.

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