Two weeks it was......
Another day, another airport.
After 16 days away from SA, I am heading back. Three Country’s – two of them for the first time – and countless security checks and packing and unpacking laptops etc etc.
The fact that all three countries are primarily French should be telling me something. The French are anal. There is no other word for it.
Burkina Faso airport took the cake as far as anal (and rude) is concerned. Oh yes – did I mention that the French are bloody impolite as well?
We decided at Burkina to check in the luggage early and then go for dinner. In Ghana they open check in at 7 for an 11 flight so this can be done. Burkina? Well you get greeted by the “Give me a Uniform and I will make your life difficult” person at the door. He checks your ticket and your passport (check 1). He looks at my ticket and directs me to stand outside.
“I want to check in for Air France” I mention.
“Stand there (French accent)”
“Can I check in please”
“No”
“Why not”
“check in is not open”
“What time does it open?”
-silence-
“what time does check in for Air France Open?”
- more silence –
“Listen Charlie, are you going to tell me what time the check in opens or do I get unhappy?” (agitated voice)
- Even more silence _
Lucky Celia had actually got inside the door (French men and woman?) and she toddled off to find out check in opens at 8:15.
We had dinner at a stunning little Indian Resturant and the Rogan Gosh was as tasty as it should be.
9pm back to airport. Through Check 1 with not much of an issue except by checking each passport and ticket, check 1 causes an almighty backup outside the door. He however is not at all concerned.
Luggage in – boarding pass problem!
“You cannot sit together”
“why?”
“There is no seat”
“say what – the seats were pre booked – best you check again”
“oh – no Problem”
Check 2 is just before customs. Man again stands at door, hands out departure forms and checks your boarding pass and passport. The only issue here is the Q is long and in order to get a form, you need to squeeze past humanity, get the form and squeeze back.
That is of course unless you are well connected and can just stroll through without worrying about the Q.
Check 3 is immigration. My lad was counting forms and pointedly ignore me while he tried to remember how to count.
Check 4 is a large lass who checks the passport and ticks a number in a book. The relevance of this escaped me.
Check 5 is a lad next to the large lady who once again checks your boarding pass and ticket.
Check 6 is scanning of hand luggage and a brief look at your boarding pass and passport.
Check 7 is when you start boarding and a man checks – yup you guessed it – your boarding pass and passport.
Check 8 is a physical search of handluggage and hand scan of your body.
Check 9 is – I kid you not – just before you board the bus and once again the man checks if you have a valid visa. (Fark me – if you did not have a valid visa, the lad at check 1 would not have even let you in the airport)
It was raining – we got wet getting on the plane.
6 hours to Paris. Foul seats – in the middle of the plane . I managed to Nap.
Paris was once again Japanese Tourist 101. This time however we knew the drill and knew which shuttle to look out for.
Once again – expensive shower and computer bags in storage as we caught another shuttle to the Metro.
The lourve. Celia wished to see pre 17th Century Dutch Masters, which were quite cool. She knows a tad more about art than I do, so she was disappointed and I was walking around like an Amish arriving in the big City. You can spend a month in the Louve and not see everything.
Eiffel tower – made easy by a Metro Day Pass – and photo opportunity closer than we got last time.
Arch de Triomph – (once again thanks to the Metro) and while I am wondering how the hell you cross the bloody great big traffic circle without been killed, Celia finds the underground access and shakes her head in exasperation at the newby.
We ate a quick lunch on the Champs. Salad was fantastic and the beer was very nice. Service was in a flash. Cost was EU50. France is not for poor people. *chuckle*
Finally – back on the Metro to retrieve our computer bags and check in for the 11 hour trip to Mauritius.
I again managed naps and small walk arounds to allow blood flow to my arse. Cattle class seats are not soft at all. Celia on the other hand has a bladder of steel and sat once again for the entire 11 hours with nary a pee(p).
Chilled day in Mau and a great meal at the Happy Raja, followed by a belated celebration of Romay’s Birthday at Banana Club with Celia and two of her mates who are spending a holiday with her.
Lucky Wench gets to spend the next three days in Reunion. Life of the rich and infamous I think.
Flight back to SA was uneventful and I welcomed my own bed, after tossing all my washing out of my bag. Nary a clean item of clothing left.
I had fun!
Now back to work it seems.
I only left the office at 6.30 tonight, still with some stuff to do. As I was the only bugger there, it seemed like a good time to leave and try and make sure I am all caught up by Friday.
Hope you are smiling
After 16 days away from SA, I am heading back. Three Country’s – two of them for the first time – and countless security checks and packing and unpacking laptops etc etc.
The fact that all three countries are primarily French should be telling me something. The French are anal. There is no other word for it.
Burkina Faso airport took the cake as far as anal (and rude) is concerned. Oh yes – did I mention that the French are bloody impolite as well?
We decided at Burkina to check in the luggage early and then go for dinner. In Ghana they open check in at 7 for an 11 flight so this can be done. Burkina? Well you get greeted by the “Give me a Uniform and I will make your life difficult” person at the door. He checks your ticket and your passport (check 1). He looks at my ticket and directs me to stand outside.
“I want to check in for Air France” I mention.
“Stand there (French accent)”
“Can I check in please”
“No”
“Why not”
“check in is not open”
“What time does it open?”
-silence-
“what time does check in for Air France Open?”
- more silence –
“Listen Charlie, are you going to tell me what time the check in opens or do I get unhappy?” (agitated voice)
- Even more silence _
Lucky Celia had actually got inside the door (French men and woman?) and she toddled off to find out check in opens at 8:15.
We had dinner at a stunning little Indian Resturant and the Rogan Gosh was as tasty as it should be.
9pm back to airport. Through Check 1 with not much of an issue except by checking each passport and ticket, check 1 causes an almighty backup outside the door. He however is not at all concerned.
Luggage in – boarding pass problem!
“You cannot sit together”
“why?”
“There is no seat”
“say what – the seats were pre booked – best you check again”
“oh – no Problem”
Check 2 is just before customs. Man again stands at door, hands out departure forms and checks your boarding pass and passport. The only issue here is the Q is long and in order to get a form, you need to squeeze past humanity, get the form and squeeze back.
That is of course unless you are well connected and can just stroll through without worrying about the Q.
Check 3 is immigration. My lad was counting forms and pointedly ignore me while he tried to remember how to count.
Check 4 is a large lass who checks the passport and ticks a number in a book. The relevance of this escaped me.
Check 5 is a lad next to the large lady who once again checks your boarding pass and ticket.
Check 6 is scanning of hand luggage and a brief look at your boarding pass and passport.
Check 7 is when you start boarding and a man checks – yup you guessed it – your boarding pass and passport.
Check 8 is a physical search of handluggage and hand scan of your body.
Check 9 is – I kid you not – just before you board the bus and once again the man checks if you have a valid visa. (Fark me – if you did not have a valid visa, the lad at check 1 would not have even let you in the airport)
It was raining – we got wet getting on the plane.
6 hours to Paris. Foul seats – in the middle of the plane . I managed to Nap.
Paris was once again Japanese Tourist 101. This time however we knew the drill and knew which shuttle to look out for.
Once again – expensive shower and computer bags in storage as we caught another shuttle to the Metro.
The lourve. Celia wished to see pre 17th Century Dutch Masters, which were quite cool. She knows a tad more about art than I do, so she was disappointed and I was walking around like an Amish arriving in the big City. You can spend a month in the Louve and not see everything.
Eiffel tower – made easy by a Metro Day Pass – and photo opportunity closer than we got last time.
Arch de Triomph – (once again thanks to the Metro) and while I am wondering how the hell you cross the bloody great big traffic circle without been killed, Celia finds the underground access and shakes her head in exasperation at the newby.
We ate a quick lunch on the Champs. Salad was fantastic and the beer was very nice. Service was in a flash. Cost was EU50. France is not for poor people. *chuckle*
Finally – back on the Metro to retrieve our computer bags and check in for the 11 hour trip to Mauritius.
I again managed naps and small walk arounds to allow blood flow to my arse. Cattle class seats are not soft at all. Celia on the other hand has a bladder of steel and sat once again for the entire 11 hours with nary a pee(p).
Chilled day in Mau and a great meal at the Happy Raja, followed by a belated celebration of Romay’s Birthday at Banana Club with Celia and two of her mates who are spending a holiday with her.
Lucky Wench gets to spend the next three days in Reunion. Life of the rich and infamous I think.
Flight back to SA was uneventful and I welcomed my own bed, after tossing all my washing out of my bag. Nary a clean item of clothing left.
I had fun!
Now back to work it seems.
I only left the office at 6.30 tonight, still with some stuff to do. As I was the only bugger there, it seemed like a good time to leave and try and make sure I am all caught up by Friday.
Hope you are smiling
1 Comments:
Travelling is always fun when you get to see the sites!!! except for the authorities in uniforms, of course.
Glad you seem to have had lots of good food and had fun... you deserve it!! xx
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