Some years ago I wrenched my knee while skiing in Andorra. Handily, there was a clinic built into the cable car station . While I was there several other similar injuries were brought in. One lady, also english, arrived by blood wagon with an inflatable cast on one leg. The doctor spoke spanish, but could get along in french. The lady could only speak english. Acting as interpreter, in my best O-level french, it transpired that although she had a dreadful hangover, her knee was fine. She was sent on her way with a couple of aspirin ...