|In the main bar there are great booths with padded upholstery and cut-glass windows, I suppose, once a place where weighty matters could be debated in relative privacy.|
Thursday, 23 August 2012
I only went into the Vic because of my dedication to my readers, and any pint of Guinness I might have had was solely for the purposes of journalistic research.
Anyway. Shortly afterwards I was strolling along in front of the Infirmary, when my ears were assailed by an unholy clatter and roar. The original front of the Infirmary is victorian gothic, but the rear sections are firmly esconced within the modern world. There's a helipad on the top of the Accident and Emergency department, and the bright yellow bumblebee known as the Yorkshire Air Ambulance was just lifting off.
Although they make a horrendous racket, the air ambulances, funded only by donations, not by government, local or national, are a welcome sight. I have friends who would be dead were it not for them. They can reach casualties in terrain a ground ambulance can not get to, they can transport an injured person faster or further in a given time.
And so I wend my way toward home.