The time had arrived to gather all our belongings, say goodby to our African Safari experience and head back to London, England. But before I begin to describe the challenging 30 hours-ish that we had, I need to back up and describe a little about our originally scheduled flight out of Zanzibar.We received word from Trafalgar/Somak regarding our flight out of Zanzibar to Nairobi a few days before it was to take place. The original details were such that we would need to leave the resort at 6:00 AM, drive to the airport and fly out of Zanzibar to Nairobi directly where we would have a 12 hour wait for our flight to Frankfurt. Ara and Yvonne were in the same boat, and with Ara having a few years of being a travel agent in her past, she picked up the phone and called Somak to see if we could get a better option. It was interesting to note that they had only booked the flights at the end of July, which meant that all of the better options were filled up. Seems strange since we paid for the trip, long before this all occurred. It looked a little like some one was just late booking - and we were left to spend 12 hours in the Nairobi airport.
They first returned our request with a, "There is nothing we can do as the flights are all full". After some persistence from Ara (you certainly don't want to get on the wrong side of this Puerto Rican girl) we were presented with two options.
Option 1: Travel from Zanzibar to Nairobi at 10:40 AM (the same very early 6:00 AM resort departure originally given) landing at 12:20 PM. This option came with a "day room" at a Nairobi hotel. However we would have been required to book online a transit visa of USD 20 per person.
Option 2: Depart on a flight with FlightLink from Zanzibar to Arusha at 13:00 and arrive at 14:10. We would depart from the resort at 10:30 AM, which was much more reasonable. On arrival in Arusha, we would be taken for lunch to the Coffee farm restaurant (the one we ate at on the way to Zanzibar) then sent by Land Cruiser to Kilimanjaro Airport (a 56 Km drive on tarmac roads) to board a flight from Kilimanjaro to Nairobi leaving at 18:30 and arriving at 19:30.
Option 1 still had us leaving at an insane hour (without the ability to have breakfast at the hotel as we would have to leave before breakfast started), but just gave us a "day room" to pass the time. We also would need a $20 US Transit visa according to the representative. (However, our existing Kenyan visas were good for 30 days and had not yet expired.)
Option 2 allowed us to leave at a reasonable hour (eating a nice leisure breakfast at the resort), have lunch and still get on a flight from Kilimanjaro to Nairobi with plenty of time to make our connections to Frankfurt (Laureen and I) and London (Ara & Yvonne). We agreed on Option #2 and the arrangements were made.
The Drive
Ok, fast forward now to the morning of our departure from the hotel. We all were up at a reasonable hour, had breakfast and were waiting for our driver to show up. While we were waiting, there was some kind of a mixup with a pickup of a family for a tour and the driver thought they were supposed to be going somewhere else. They had just come back and the father of the group was very angry and yelling at the staff of the hotel. Apparently he paid a lot of money for his Stone Town and spice tour and was looking to take it out on the staff. Things were a little tense for a while - all around the time our driver was supposed to pick us up. Ara picked up the phone and called and they indicated that our driver was just a little late due to traffic and should arrive in the next 15 minutes. Add 1 to the tension level (out of 10), as we need to make it to the airport on time to make all our connections.
The driver shows up about 15 minutes later and we all pile in with our luggage in the back and begin the 1.5 hour journey to the airport. I start to notice that the driver seems to be in some kind of pain. I can see his eyes in the mirror and I notice his left hand is kind of wringing on his left leg. Laureen eventually asks him if he is ok, and he responds that he seems to be having some stomach trouble this morning. As we go a little further, the driver starts making wincing sounds, just loud enough for us to hear and he's now squirming in the driver's seat. We ask him again, are you ok? He doesn't really answer, but instead decided to pull over on the side of the road, go off into the bushes and - well - throw up (we think - because nobody actually saw it as he was quite well hidden). I'm looking at the clock and will still have over 35 minutes to go before we get to the airport. Time is ticking. Add 1 to the tension level, now at 2.
The driver comes back, and starts to drive the car. I think I smell a hint of vomit, so my guess is that is what occurred. After a short while, the driver is starting to squirm again and wring his hands. He now begins moaning out loud in a manner that indicated that he's really hurting. We ask him again, are you OK? He's now sweating and kind of shaking his head, like he's trying to stay focused. Add 1 to the tension level, now at 3. We go further and I can see that he undoes his belt to as a means to relieve some of the pain he is experiencing. The car is quiet and we begin to ask him if we should maybe get another driver. He's getting quite loud now with his painful outbursts. He then looks at me over his shoulder and asks me if I can drive. Add 1 to the tension level, now at 4.
I say, yes, I can drive, but secretly I'm concerned as not only do they drive on the left, but it's a totally different kind of driving in this traffic. They weave in and out. Drive on the other side of the road at times, pass and follow really close. And there is no such thing as "lines" here. Heaven forbid that we come across a traffic circle. We drive by what looks like a Taxi stand and again say that maybe we should get another driver. He continues to drive but is still crying out in pain, occasionally very loudly and wringing his hands. Add 1 to the tension level, now at 5.
We pull into a gas station and he gets out of the car and makes his way to the bathroom to do whatever he's doing to relieve his painful stomach issue. Add 1 to the tension level, now at 6 as we talk amongst ourselves as to what we should do. We are looking around to see if there are any other taxis (called Private For Hire cars here in Zanzibar), that we might be able to flag down. I look at google maps and it indicates we still have about 30 minutes to go and the driver is clearly not well. We also start thinking about what's causing his issues. If it's something he ate - then we are likely not going to be affected at all. However, if he has some kind of flu or worse (of course the idea of things like Ebola and Marburg virus which have seen a bit of a spike a month or two before we came here), then we could actually be in some danger, not to mention the cascade of flights/hotels and other bookings that would be affected if we missed this first flight. Add 1 to the tension level which is now at 7.
The driver comes back (pants still undone) and begins to drive. He seems to be in less pain now, but not 100%. We offer him the bottle of water we brought from the hotel, and he thanked us. He looked at the clock and said the we would get there with enough time to catch the flight, given that this was just a domestic flight. This is Africa. You can imagine what the ticketing, baggage and security is like. It seems as though they are just going through the motions. Checking in for a flight about 1 hour before the flight departs seems to be the normal.
Zanzibar Airport
We get there with about 40-45 minutes before flight departure. Here, it seems, one can just arrive a few minutes before the flight and you can board. Hakuna matata as they say here. We left our driver (who apparently had gone over to the arrivals area to pick up another passenger), and made our way into the airport. We went to check our bags (all 4 of us) and they weighed the luggage and found that we were 8 Kg over the limit. The thief behind the counter wanted $40 US for this overage, and Ara paid him in cash and asked for a receipt. He couldn't produce (and actually asked if we had a piece of paper to write on) one which should have been our clue that this was a scam. That realization only came later as we thought about what happened. I wish I would have actually watched the numbers as they weighed the luggage - but we were all a little frazzled by our harrowing ride to the airport. Tension level still at 7 as we try and settle down from what just happened.
In the boarding lounge, I struck up a conversation with an American lady who relayed a story of them flying out of the Serengeti, which was supposed to be a non-stop flight to Nairobi, but turned out to be a three stop milk run. At stop number 2, they were told to get out of the plane because that one was now going somewhere else. This story did not provide any comfort and seemed to just confirm the chaos that is flying in East Africa.
We board our flight to Arusha and as we are about to leave the boarding lounge, the airline employee says that it's "free" seating, which is African for "you can sit wherever you want - even though there is a seat number on your boarding pass". This causes nothing but confusion for anyone from the West who is used to having assigned seating. Since this was not OUR first time hearing this, we just sat in a few seats in the back as we got on the plane which was only about 20% full. But, the other westerners were still trying to understand the free seating thing. It was funny to watch. Thankfully the flight from Zanzibar to Arusha was an uneventful hour.
Arusha
We land in Arusha, and we walk outside the airport to see someone holding a sign with our name on it. We wander over and he identifies himself as a driver from Somak and point to his green Land Cruiser (a sight we had become familiar with). As we wait for our luggage to arrive, I ask him if his stomach is ok. He replies, yes, he's fine, and I explain our previous ride to the airport with the sick driver. He laughs and says, "Africans! They always mix their food and then they get an upset stomach". The levity and the fact that we were in Arusha brought down the tension level to a 6.
We grabbed all of our luggage, performed the same Tetris maneuver we had done so many times before and made our way to the Coffee Farm Hotel for lunch. This was the same place we ate at when we were on our way to Zanzibar. And, as a matter of fact, we sat at the same table where Wendy got sick. That must be the Somak table. Since we knew the drill, we asked the waiter about going to the buffet, but we had actually missed the buffet by about 10 minutes. This meant that we needed to order of the menu.
When we arrived, we were told that we had about 40 minutes to have lunch before we had to leave for the 56 KM drive to the Kilimanjaro airport. Having to order food made things tight from a timing perspective and we were all very aware of the time. we finally got our food, water and extra drinks that we ordered but felt a little rushed. Time was close and the tension level jumped back up one to a 7.
We piled into the vehicle and made the trek to Kilimanjaro airport. it was only 56 Km, but the journey took an hour and a half with all of the traffic and the sleeping policeman bumps they put on the roads here. Our driver has to keep slowing down to go over these things and then speed back up to his normal 80 Km an hour. Nothing too crazy here, and we end up at the airport with about an hour to spare before our flight; or so we thought.
Kilimanjaro Airport
A "Porter" (and I use that term lightly), grabbed our bags and started helping us into the airport. These are the guys who hang around the airport and want to move your bags 30 or 40 feet and then be tipped for their service. As I noted to Laureen at one point in the last few days, I was starting to feel like an ATM machine.
The porter-tip-monster then asked us which airline and if we had any connecting flights. we responded that we did and he then whisked us to close to the front of the line, which was pretty long and had that hint of chaos. Because we were travelling with Yvonne who had some mild mobility issues (and after all, she is 77 years old), she would often get treated well by the locals and we were lucky enough to benefit from that. Culturally, the elderly are very well respected in both Kenyan and Tanzanian societies.
Right away, a man from behind the counter asked about our connecting flights, and then asked to have all of our passports (in retrospect, that may have not been the best move). It was at this moment that some of the frustration of the people who were at the front of the line started to show. There was some slightly heated exchange between them and Yvonne/Ara (I was tending the luggage so I was a little further back). They were upset that we were brought to the front of the line. Another group, of African Americans, were also at the front of the line, getting their arrangements set for their flight to Zanzibar, came to our defence, stating that it was the airport people who bright us there. Add 1 to the tension level which is now at 8.
This is where things get a little crazy.
As you will have noted in the previous posts when I talk about driving in Kenya/Tanzania, that there are no lines on the roads; and, even if there are lines, they are clearly optional and there simply for decoration. This is the same as the airport. There are no lines. There is no organization. There is little to no order about anything. Its a...free-for-all. This adds to the chaos that ensues at the check-in counters. If they would just organize things a little, the experience would be much calmer.
As we attempt to get checked in, we find out that there were mechanical issues with the airplane that we were supposed to be taking for this trip, and the company sent a replacement plane. The only issue is, the plane they sent was smaller than the original which meant that the flight was significantly over booked. Then we were told that we were not going to get on the flight. Add 1 to the tension level which is now at 9.
SIDE NOTE: If any of you know Laureen, you will know that she is extremely organized and always prepared. She has things printed out in a book that she caries with her on her trips so the we have whatever we need. In situations that are extremely fluid (like this one), she does not do well. At all. In my line of work, I tend to have to be able to go with the flow and deal with stressful situations (like cyber breaches) on the fly. Calm under pressure. I wouldn't be very good at my job if this were not the case. The tension ratings are my estimations. If it were left up to Laureen, they numbers would now have gone well over 10.
We then heard that they were going to try and prioritize people who had connecting flights the same day. Tension level down 1, now at 7.
We are standing at the front of the line, but nothing is happening with our stuff. Some large groups are getting through, and the line that we skipped was moving (albeit very slowly). AND, they had our passports. Tension level up one, now at 8.
They start asking us to show them that we have flights the same day, so we show our boarding passes, as we had checked in online and had them electronically. The hope of being one of the ones that got a seat on this flight helped bring the tension level down to 7.
It looked like they were attempting to rebook our other flights and then were going to put us up in a hotel overnight so that we could fly out the next day. However, because we had already checked in, it was creating a problem for them and they could not do make any changes. The thought of all the plans that we had, hinging on us getting to Frankfurt/London were now looming large for Laureen. There were tears. Tension level up one, now at 8. (Laureen’s tension level was probably at about 14 by now.)
By this point, our scheduled flight out of Kilimanjaro was presumed to have left, it was well past the departure time. But the gals all were persistent about “is there any other flights with any other airlines available tonight?” They were even willing to pay for a different flight if there was an option to make it to Nairobi tonight.
Our flight out of Nairobi to Frankfurt was due to leave at 11:15 PM, so we still had time to make that connection.
We continued to watch the line dwindle while we stood there - helpless. They had our passports that were just tucked aside. This off-again-on-again went on for an hour and a half. Well past the time that our flight was supposed to leave. It seemed like we were not going to get out of Kilimanjaro. Add 1 to the tension level, now at 9.
For all of this time, Yvonne had been actually sitting behind the counter on a chair they brought out for her. On occasion, she would chat with the gent who had originally took our passports. But, still no activity on our flight. Then at some point (she told me later), he mentioned something about a "handshake". Yvonne understood that to mean that he was looking for money - so she gave him $100 U.S.. It was at this point that some activity started to happen regarding our boarding passes.
As it turns out, the replacement plane had not left yet (we thought we were stuck here for the night), and we were being issued boarding passes on a flight to Nairobi. The only catch is that this would not be a "connecting" flight. So we would have to pick up our bags once we arrived in Nairobi, use our visa's to re-enter into Kenya, go through security again in Kenya, drop off our luggage with Lufthansa, go through immegration to leave Kenya, and then get on the flight to Frankfurt (if we made it in time). And in order for this to happen, we needed to bribe the gate agent. A word of advice to anyone looking to travel to Africa, bring a reasonable amount of cash to use for tips and "fees" to get what you need.
The joy of being able to get on a plane brought the tension level down to 8.
As we were heading to security to be screened, we happened to notice the folks that gave us a hard time about being brought to the front of the line, now coming back to the gate. This seemed strange as it looked like they received their boarding passes over 45 minutes ago. The lady was clearly angry and started yelling at the gate agent. It was almost as though the people at the gate gave them boarding passes for a flight that was not going to happen. They were very upset. But - we walked passed and went to board our flight. Maybe the universe was balancing itself out.
As we sat on the plane in Kilimanjaro, I took a quick photo to remember this part of the trip (not that we will ever forget it).
We landed in Nairobi and rushed through all of the steps that we had to do, to make it to our flight. Collect our bags (which by some miracle - actually showed up and came out relatively quickly). Then we re-entered Kenya through their immigration department. Next we quickly walked to another terminal, and stood in a long line to get our bags re-checked for our flight to Frankfurt. After finally getting this done, it was back to a different immigration are to leave Kenya again, go through security and get to the gate. Tension level is now up one to 9.
We get to the gate, and there is a long line to get into the boarding area for the Lufthansa flight. It seems that there is a lot of re-checking things by the airline if you are coming out of an African country. Given the relatively lax nature of what we saw, this was not surprising. I stopped to grab a couple chicken sandwiches and a black current Fanta before entering the waiting area, as we were not sure about food in there. The sandwiches were good, and brought some relief from the off/on nature of our journey today. It was now about 10:30 PM and we hadn’t eaten since our lunch.
We boarded the plane and looked at each other in disbelief. We are going to make it to Frankfurt. Not sure how this next picture got taken - but it shows how we felt after this part of the trip.
We arrived in Frankfurt, made our way to the gate that was on the boarding pass (its a bit of a hike), only to find out that they changed our gate and we had walked by it on our way to this one. Tension level is hard to describe as we are now getting very tired. At least we are here and getting on the plane to London.
We arrive in London and wait for a long time at the baggage carousel for our luggage. We then hear an official from the airport indicate that 40 bags did not make it on the fight and will come on a later flight. Sigh. Laureen opens her FindMe app as we have air tags in both of our suitcases. The moment of truth is that our bags appear to be in London. Tension level up one and then down one.
Our bags eventually show up on the belt.
We then look for the express train into London which seemed to be about a 12 mile journey (I think we could have walked to London faster), and eventually get on the right train. It's a 30 minute ride to Paddington station where we needed to get off and then make our way to our rented flat via a London Cab. It's the pricey way to travel in London. The owner of the flat had granted us early access as we were not supposed to check in until 2:00 PM. We could drop our bags, and then go off and do something until the place had been cleaned. We arrived at the flat, tired, hungry and sweaty after the long journey.
The owner uses an app that you receive an electronic key for the doors, and it took a bit to figure out how it worked - but we eventually got into the accommodation. It was not cleaned. So, we dropped out bags (I changed from my long pants into shorts), and we went out in South Kensington for a short walk and lunch until 2:00 PM when the place was supposed to be ready.
When we came back, the place was not cleaned. Sigh. Laureen contacted the owner who was very apologetic and he contacted his cleaner who had completely forgotten about needing to get the unit ready for today. He said she would be there in 30 minutes. An hour later, she showed up and we went out for another half hour walk while she prepped the place.
We figure it was about 30 hours that we were in the same clothes all hot and sweaty; but we were in London and now in our flat.
A shower, a nice dinner and some badly needed sleep was in order after a rather long and trying day.
G'night all.
Curt & Laureen.
