What kind of traveller are you?

When it comes to travelling, there are different categories of travellers :

1) those who get to the airport way ahead of their flights, then take all the time to stroll around or just wait at their boarding gates

2) those who wait for last minute, are constantly in a hurry, running or missing flights

3) those who spend their time window shopping or eating

I happen to be in the first category. I get into a bit of a panic when I'm running late, so I would much prefer to get to the airport early, ahead of the long queues. This saved  me once when I was asked to do a covid test by an airline because they had not yet updated their regulations (didn't need a test) from the country I was travelling to. Thankfully, there was a place to do an antigen test at the airport, and I had more than enough time to get the result, check in and wait to board.

I recently had to travel to London via Kigali, Nairobi and Paris. There was a 40 minute delay from Kigali which was not a problem. However, on arrival in Nairobi, there was a 3 hour delay. I watched the time pass and kept consoling myself that I would make the connecting flight in Paris. At times like these, you watch time pass quicker than anything. I spent 40 minutes in Paris and I spent a good amount of that time on ground running. 

As we arrived, we disembarked then got on the bus that took us to the terminal. That took about 15 minutes then I ran from the bus to get through security. Thankfully, there wasn't a long queue but as every minute passed, I was getting more and more apprehensive. I saw some people go right under the security barriers, but I didn't want anything to delay me more than necessary in case someone decided to be difficult with me. 

Anyway, it took me 7 minutes to get through security. I felt my phone vibrate but that was the least of my worries. As soon I got through security, I ran like my life depended on it. I had a family event in London starting at 2pm and I kept saying to myself that I could not miss that flight. I was to arrive around noon. 

As I approached the boarding gate, the counter seemed empty, but I kept running. Right on cue, a lady appeared, then shouted London in that familiar asking tone. Out of breath, I shook my head while running to get to her and she gestured for me to slow down and said it was okay. God knows I was grateful for that. I was the last one to get on the plane, the door closed right as I got on. I sat down, panting, then I spotted a couple that was on the Nairobi flight as well. They were seated just in front of me. I remember seeing them go under the security barriers, I spoke to them. You made it from the Nairobi flight. We all shared the knowing laughter of 'we made it'. As I was about to switch off my phone, I saw a text message from Air France notifying me to go to the boarding gate. That must have been the vibration I felt while waiting to get through security.

Of course my suitcases did not make it onto the plane. As we landed, I got another text message notifying me that my suitcases were in Paris and would arrive on the next flight, which was at 4pm. I found the Air France baggage unit, filled out the forms with my address and my suitcases were delivered the next morning. I have to admit, their service in this regard was great. 

I find Airports very fascinating. It's a place where people 'put aside all dignity' if need be, when it comes down to it. The two times I have had to run like this (with no shame) to catch planes, were between London and Paris. First time was in London in 2010, I was returning to Paris where I lived at the time and this time, in Paris. Fortunately, all ended well for me, I can't imagine how frustrated I might have been if I had missed the flight.

Travelling in Rural Africa

One of the many adventures of living in a remote place is travelling. Since I've been in this line of work, I have appreciated the ease with which I could travel in normal times. Getting from point A to B now takes a lot of planning and consideration. To get out of Uvira, the town I am currently in, I have to travel for 3 hours to another town called Kamanyola, then cross the border to Rwanda to a town called Kamembe.    

Kamembe is a small town that has a national forest of 1020km2. There are two exit/entry points from the Democratic Republic of Congo into South Kivu : 1) Kamanyola, which is around 46km and around 1hour and 15 minutes from Kamembe airport and 2) Bukavu which is 20km from the Kamembe airport and about a 40 minute drive. Typically, I would spend the night in Kamembe then fly to Kigali the following morning. It is a 40 minute flight, but a 5 hour drive to Kigali where I can fly from. This option is more practical for me than going to the capital (Kinshasa) to access the international airport. It is equally a two day trip.

See my previous post about some of my first impressions of the DRC.

Faith restored II

I wrote this post sometime in 2017 and somehow a few things have happened that have made me to write a follow up post.

We went by car from a town called Kibondo in Tanzania to Kigali, Rwanda. The driver in question had never been to Kigali so was not sure how to get there. The trip up to the Rwandan border was fine. The driver happens to be a restless man. He seems unable to allow things happen or allow people do things for him. He always wants to be in control. When we got to the border, he needed to do some paper work to be able to drive in Rwanda with a Tanzanian licence plate. He gave an agent the papers to process but just would not wait or let the agent do his work.

He ventured out on his own to get it done. In the end, he paid twice and wasted time going all over the place when we could have been on our way.

The State of Nigerian roads

I travelled to my village in Benue state at the end of last year and one major observation, is that I would put the state of the roads on top of my list, before any other factor if I were in the position to give a report on what the likely causes of accidents might be, which is at an astoundingly high rate.

We got into Benue state and went through Makurdi, but after Makurdi, some parts of the road were in a worse state than I can remember. The road from Gwer local government area (LGA) to Aliade LGA and Taraku LGA were horrible. If we were talking only about pot holes, that might have been less grave, but I am talking about deep pot holes that have also eroded.
 
Certain parts of the road were not motorable and drivers on that side would have to swerve into the other lane of oncoming vehicles to avoid any tragedy. This in itself is extremely risky but drivers are left with no choice. 
That brings me to another point…I am yet to understand why some federal roads are not dualised! It’s just one strip, so people going in both directions know to be on their side of the road. No dividers, nothing. This makes it pretty easy for countless accidents to happen. Between Otukpo and Otobi (where there is a Federal Government College), the erosion is epic, a part of the road has been eroded into one lane!

I am going home

I’m sitting here at Nsimalen airport, which is bereft of activity, an airport of a country far smaller than my country, but which seems to have more functional facilities than the airport in the capital of my great country. 

I am looking at my suitcase, the proof of my three months stay in this country and wondering whether I should be feeling this way. 

One friend asked me last night if I cried saying good bye and another asked if I was sad leaving. My response to both questions was laughter. I had music on so loud like I was celebrating my departure. 

Usually before trips, especially after living in a place, I have knots in my tummy but this time I was numb, no feelings whatsoever.  I didn’t have much time to see the best of the place but I sure saw some part of the bad! In the short time I stayed here, this country didn’t grow on me at all. 

 

I’ve checked in and I am sitting in the lounge, there are still no nostalgic feelings and thankfully, the staff at the airport have so far been nice. I’ll leave in peace with no hostility or aggression trailing me. 

It’s time to leave and as I wait for the call, I have a smile on my face as I think of the smiling and welcoming faces of my family, the warm hugs and being carried. I think of our dogs that will jump on me to show me that they missed me, licking and scratching. All I can think of ‘I am going home’.

I settle into my seat and look out of the window with a smile. As we take off, I look at the town beneath me and say a quiet thank you under my breath then a smile, a broad smile crosses my face again with the thought ‘I am going home’.

I walk out to my sister’s wide smile and waiting arms. She lifts me up and spins me around, the first of many hugs, and now I know I am home.

My new favourite thing

Something that’s fast becoming a favourite for me is watching people. 

I’ve been doing this for some time, but I am realising more, how much I enjoy it.

At airports, social gatherings, it’s amazing the stories the mind could form from just observing.

Airports make a great scene – raw impatience, politeness, lateness, cluelessness, all forms of emotions are usually displayed. Have you witnessed any extreme reactions from someone at an airport? Intense!