17/12/11 I wanna be an A-list celebrity, so frikkin bad…

 

17 December, 2011

… but only in airports so I can avoid all the undressing for security scans and baggage harassment…

Well, arrived finally in camp. Unpacked all electronics and IT paraphernalia before any clothes or toiletries. How typical of me...

I left Durban on Friday 16th Dec, flying up on 1Time. I was asked if I wanted a window seat when checking in but realised that the "window" seat was 2nd to last row in the tail of the plane, with an almost 180° view of the starboard engine! And nothing else... Since I was there I figured I'd help the crew out and carry out a pre-flight inspection on that engine. A mistake I realised almost instantly when I noted that the upper cowling panel had latches that didn't at all align with the lower cowling's holes. Almost as if they'd put the wrong cowling on the engine.

Thankfully a 1Time pilot sat next to me (he was clearly just getting a lift to JHB, and turned down sitting in the jumpseat up front no doubt for some peace and quiet at the back) and with great relief I explained proudly what I had discovered, wondering at the same time if I'd get a big reward or medal for saving all these lives with my sharp observational skills.

He leaned across me, stared at the cowlings for a long while, then shrugged his shoulders and sat back, opening his paper and saying, "Should be fine". Nice. The flight proceeded without incident, while I kept a keen eye on the cowling throughout. No medal for me...

A few hours later I boarded the flight to Addis Ababa, Ethiopia. As the more astute of you will be wondering, yes I am in Gabon. I was paid very late for the first trip, so by the time I went online with money to buy my tickets for this trip they had gone from R6500 to R18000!!! I nearly poohed my brooks. A very long story short, a heroic travel agent found me R9000 tickets to Libreville, Gabon via Addis. Maybe it was my offer to marry his ugly sister that spurred him to work tirelessly to find an option that wouldn't have cost so much it would have practically negated my reason for coming to Gabon in the first place.

Bottom line, I was on my way to Addis. Somewhat excited, since I've never been to northern Africa and thought it would be interesting seeing a country with Arab influence. The excitement for the journey was tainted with two things. Firstly, I was sat next to one of the siffest British yobs I have ever met, who oozed over the armrest and into part of my seat. And secondly, as dinner was dished out and I hungrily dived into my chicken breast, I pulled back the top of the little sealed, plastic butter pouch and poured the entire pouch of liquid butter onto my shorts. All over the front of my shorts. Who wants to hazard a guess as to what butter looks like when it cools and solidifies on someone's shorts? They gave me a little cup with a wet facecloth in it to go to the toilet and try to clean it off (which was a mortifying enough walk), but that didn't really help, and when I got off the plane on the other end, parents were shielding their children's eyes as they glared at me with dimly disguised disgust!

I discovered something I didn't know about Addis when I disembarked. On landing the pilot reported (in a strong, difficult to understand accent) something that sounded like the temperature was 16°C outside. I was dressed for Gabon. Where the temperature has never been 16°C. Ever. My crusty shorts and thin t-shirt were no match for Addis - which is 7600 feet above sea level, and I was shivering quickly. No jersey in my bag because I was going to Gabon. Where the temperature.... (oh I've already said that). Little was explained to us on arrival, but I knew that somehow I was to be put in a hotel for the night as part of the ticket price. So I rushed around trying to find out where to go and what to do. Fairly simple, unless its your first time. And there are queues for EVERYTHING!!! Everything typically disorganised and slow.

I was in a queue of about a hundred people and couldn't leave the queue to walk to the front to ask because I'd lose my place, so I stood for nearly an hour before being given a piece of paper that said I was going to spend the night in a hotel. But no name written down for the hotel. I couldn't go through immigration because I didn't know where I was staying. I walked around and found another queue where little temporary visa cards were given out when they decided which hotel everyone was going to. In their defence, they had 6 immigration desks open for only two flights arriving, where JHB had had a whopping 2 desks open for all internationally departing passengers! Quite ridiculous. Honestly took about 2 hours in total to get everything sorted and get in the queue for the bus for the hotel.

Walking out onto the main concourse landside, I noted how about 20 small booths ran along the walls, each one for a different hotel, from the Hilton and Sheraton to some really grotty looking ones. Almost all were 4-star, including the one I went to, although I doubt it would be 2-star in SA. The drives to and from the hotel were disappointing because we arrived at the hotel at 11pm, and left the hotel at 5.30am, so drove in the dark both ways and thus was unable to see the city much at all. A few of the buildings I could see had pretty ornate architecture.

The decor of my room – not the most modern to be fair	Clean sheets, which is more than could be said for the carpet…

The inside of the dining room area of my hotel had very dark wood and reminded me of Arabic movies. My room smelt very musty and had a carpet I kept my shoes on for but the sheets were clean and I was really too tired to care. Probably because it was so cold, there were no mosquito nets, air conditioners or even fans, and a couple of mozzies around, so I swam a few lengths in my Tabard before bed and after breakfast.

A lounge room just off the dining room	Very dark wood everywhere – quite old school

The bus took 20mins to get to the airport, and in the dark all I could really see were the buildings alongside the road. It looked like quite a run down area on the edges of town. Most buildings have water tanks on their roofs, presumably because there isn't much rain, and a number of blocks of flats had rows of satellite dishes in their gardens with loose cables stretched straight up into each apartment's window. Would have loved to have gotten a picture of that but just too dark. Scaffolding for building appears to be made with long wooden poles lashed together.

Everyone (passengers, friends and family etc.) entering the airport has to have themselves and their baggage scanned at the entrance. So the queuing started right from the front door. Belts off, shoes off, my copper bracelet off and still I was bloody beeping! After check in there is another security check where everything happens again. Way more thorough checking than anywhere in SA. I'd say its similar to the security checks in the US when I went there in 2005.

Typical dress of the local women – although I didn’t see anyone actually in white	On the move to Libreville – now I see why it was so cold!

But after that, and a 1.5 hour delay, sitting in the plane ready to go while the cargo packers decided to unpack EVERYTHING onto the apron to pack it better, we were off and finally heading for Gabon...