Travelling light

A state of insignificance

Here we are, over 10 kilometres high in the air, with 5 hours and 40 minutes remaining until landing. The clouds over North Africa look well below our aircraft, and you can see the shadows cast by each cloud formation, whose names I quite easily forget.

However, as recognisable names appear on my flight map, we have begun the cruise over the Northern Nigeria states, including Katsina, Kano, Jigawa, and the many hamlets that have become states for clannish gubernatorial contests.

Before you scoff, Agadez, a province in Niger, is nine times the size of Niger State, the largest state in Nigeria, which is about one twentieth the size of Algeria's Tamanrasset Province, the largest in Africa.

Many lessons aboard

I expected a bit of turbulence as we passed through these high-altitude clouds, but they soon fell behind us. The mystery of air travel is not one of bafflement but great interest.

I rarely watch films; I am more engaged by the stories, the history, the geography, and the culture of the places we fly over. There is much to learn, even on my tenth trip to South Africa.

If you have been flying since the age of five, you realise that no matter how far you are travelling, this case being 9,800 kilometres from Amsterdam to Cape Town, the world has become a smaller place.

What you need is time; the time to travel around it, at least once, and experience what makes our world a wonderful place.

On the mind of travel

A leg to start off

My thoughts wander from arrival to departure in the things we control and the things we must consider for now and after. These were ruminations of the mind as I began my travel from South Africa back to the UK. There were three legs to my journey, from Cape Town to Johannesburg on a once rescheduled, then cancelled and then rebooked flight which was a British Airways flight managed by their partner and subsidiary Comair.

Arriving 3 hours early at the Cape Town International Airport, I was not allowed to check-in for another hour. A porter helped me from the Uber cab that got me to the airport and stayed with me through check-in to when I had to go through security. He was of a friendly disposition, a human resources manager before he retired and took on porterage to keep busy. Porters get by on tips, though licenced and uniformed, they are not salaried, hence, the jostling for custom. I was even asked if I needed a wheelchair; we laughed.

Let’s get ready to fly

The first leg was uneventful, nothing was served to us on that two-hour flight and my baggage was not checked through to Manchester. I had to collect my baggage and check-in at the AirFrance desk in Johannesburg for my flight to France. I had a 4-hour stopover in Johannesburg, much time to reminisce about the last 5 weeks and the thought that Brian still had another 3 nights in South Africa before returning home.

When the time came for boarding came for my long-haul flight second leg to Paris, by the time I arrived at the gate, I was unable to take advantage of priority boarding. I was in Zone 1 and Zone 4 & 5 were already boarding. The crowd as such that there it was unnecessary to claim that right, I settled into the queue as it took almost 15 minutes to board. I took my window seat beside an ageing couple in the middle aisle seats then made to the toilet to change into my pyjamas before handing my clothes to the air steward to be hung in the cupboard.

Miles and wiles

For a while now, I have taken no entertainment on the flight and concentrated more on the flight maps. We were to fly 5,530 miles or 8,900 kilometres over 10:17 hours to arrive at 05:35 hours local time in Paris. We took off on a Boeing 777-328(ER) at the speed of 210.6 mph (339 km/h) and soon reached cruising speed of 581 mph (935 km/h) and cruising height of 32,001 ft (9,753 m). We did after the Equator breach 10 kilometres, but I could not be bothered than much.

I maintain fascination with the place names I see on the flight map unsure of if I would ever visit, talk less of the logistics of getting there surrounded by my creature comforts. I am not one to countenance backpacking, a strain of colonial expectation greets my desire to have Sherpas and campaign furniture. If I deign to suffer such an experience.

Louis Trichardt, South Africa; Selebi-Phikwe, Maun, Mopipi all in Botswana, and Kuito (Silva Porto), Angola caught my attention before I fell asleep, tossing and turning, waking up 4 times to use the toilet. I had dinner but requested I be left alone at breakfast time which was to be around the unholy hour of 04:00 hours.

And then we land

After changing into my pyjamas, I was offered another window seat with presumably more space. We wore our masks throughout the flight except for when we had drinks and meals. At one point, the man sat in front of me acknowledged me. How uncanny, he was the same man who sat beside me on the first leg.

Arriving in Paris, I had a 7-hour stopover, I did not have to pass through immigration, but traversing Charles de Gaulle airport is never much a pleasure. I was soon through security and in the lounge that became quite busy by the time I left. The last leg was easy and after baggage reclaim clothed for the chill of winter, I was in a black cab, the window open and settled into what was supposed to be an imposed 10-day self-isolation. I look forward to another return journey that I so enjoy for the process and the purpose. One day, Brian will be by my side on the way to the land of happily ever after.

Pissing from a great height

A turbulent bladder

And so, I felt the sudden urge to use the toilet and got up just as the air steward was walking up the aisle towards me, she was insistent I sit down, and I told her I had to go the toilet. She disapprovingly asked if it was urgent and without hesitation gave me a lecture on turbulence and the concern I should have for my safety.

I was between two minds of either telling her I had flown to South Africa 5 times last year or I had been flying since the age of 4 and I am now 54. Why bother? I sat down, crossed my legs and fingers hoping not to wet myself.

Checking on the piping

I appreciate she flies that route and probably has the training to handle severe turbulence, she was not tethered to anything and the aisles do not have railings. My being of a certain age was brought into stark reality by the Uber driver that took me to the airport.

His father had an obstruction in his urinary tract that resulted in him having a urostomy, the minor detail of him being 55 that I will celebrate in 10 days. He advised I should be seeing a urologist if I didn’t already have someone professional poking around there.

Without making too much of a thing about it, I would have hated to have to tell unnecessarily personal stories about a condition that requires an urgent dash to the loo. I suppose my shaving conceals that evidence of highlights on my beard acquired naturally, but let's not labour the point. I soon got to ease myself, a Nigerian colloquialism with emphasis on ease.

Awkward nature calls

When I got up the second time, I had the privilege of having the door to the lavatory opened for me without any discussion as to why, when, or what. Well into the morning before we landed, I needed another visit, and this time, all the toilets were occupied.

We had to queue up and one of the toilets seemed to be in use for long, an air steward opined that it might be a lady freshening up, I thought I saw a gentleman go in, but you never can tell nowadays, who is who. I declined an opinion with you never know.

I literally ran into the next available toilet, I wasn’t as pressed, but it was good humour as everyone laughed and when I was done, I was quite at ease, took my seat and wondered about pissing from a great height of 10 kilometres.

Another dreadful in-flight toddler

Crying from heights

What have I, what have I, what have I done to deserve to deserve this? (Lyrics)

Second time already, I get on the plane with a well-heeled family that takes a row or two of premium priced seats only for me to suffer the squealing, bawling and crying of some distressed toddler.

On the way to Berlin a few weeks ago, I suspected the parents needed more than just a manual on child succouring and then I realised the child might have been seriously distressed because of the pressurisation of cabins when at cruising height.

Some smarter parents advised the child be given a dummy, the sucking action might then equalise the pressure in the inner ear and hence pacify the baby enough to make it quiet.

Methinks the cabin crew should have additional instructions on how to manage babies and toddlers.

Once again

I could not believe my luck again with my short trip to Manchester when the baby was strapped into a FAA-certified baby seat behind me such that I could not recline and the 15 minutes into the flight, the banshee was let loose and could not be contained.

My ears were assaulted with the cacophony much as my back bore the brunt of a restless toddler kicking out at the back of my seat.

Not having kids of my own and having paid rip-off prices for what is just a jumped up Economy Class seat masquerading as Business Class – that is what you get with AirFrance-KLM I was within my rights either to remonstrate to the parents or the air steward to sort this nonsense out.

We endured about 30 minutes of this noise till the toddler grew too tired that it could hardly whimper and it fell asleep.

Just cooler than freezing

Just as I wondered how I’m gonna get through we approached Manchester all the hills from West Yorkshire white-out with snow and frost – I could have been North of the Arctic Circle as the captain told us the good news that the temperature was no more -2 Celsius but now a higher -1 Celcius – and it is April – makes you wonder about global warming.

Next time I get on a plane, I would be as ready as a Pet Shop Boy – a muzzle to shut the runts up or better still a good horse tranquiliser to keep the whole family comatose for the whole flight.

What have I done to deserve this?

Beyond the clouds

The trains are still slower

There have been times that I have planned a holiday or break up to 4 weeks ahead, but I am more an impulsive travel planner than a methodical pedant.

Once I realised that I had a bit of free time to the next major meeting, I was on-line looking for a destination and a hotel.

I started with thinking of Paris or Madrid, usually, I would not fly to Paris, getting out of CDG – the airport, for Paris can be a lesson in global navigation when you find you have boarded the train going North. So, from Amsterdam, it is better to travel by train.

What is most irksome about arranging this type of travel is that all the railway websites in the , , and allow Internet booking. Of the lot the German site is most flexible even allowing a proximity booking.

The others allow for planning but only with a lead time of 5 days, because they resort to postal services to send the ticket. The Germans allow you to print out your ticket as a valid document for travel.

Then compare this to Air France/KLM where at 03:00AM I got a flight for 12:40 the same day with a confirmed ticket and boarding pass to Barcelona – it is no wonder, trains are slower than planes not just in getting to destinations but in adopting sensible Internet technologies.

I would not be too surprised if some desk manager in the railway organisations has some theory about not adopting these ideas because it could put unionised workers out of work.

Working hard is out, working smart is in, I suppose trains would work on nuclear fuel before change comes to working practices – read never.

Hotels and not hostels

When booking for travel, I first look for a hotel, beginning with an Accor Hotel which handles the chains of Sofitel, Mercure, Sofitel, Dorint, SuiteHotel, Ibis, Formule 1 and Etap in descending order of sophistication and having an Accor Favourite Guest Card helps in confirming bookings and getting good deals.

Once that is available rather than confirmed, I book the flights and confirm all the bookings then pack my bags and catch a nap before setting off.

The weather reports

The weather was very dull, cloudy, probably with the expectation of rain with the temperature close to freezing. Then getting on the plane, it did look really small and there was lots of space, probably not half full.

I also found out that in the cramped economy class, if no one is sitting in front of you, you can push the back of the seat in front forward to make space. Well, I did.

Sunny beyond the clouds

As we lifted off, we were soon above the clouds with glorious sunlight lighting up the plane and reflecting off those natural shutters that made life on the ground less sunny.

I learnt something; the sun was always above the clouds and it took getting help outside of my strength to see the sunnier side of things from the gloom on the ground.

The same with our circumstances, sometimes we are ground in our mundane, ordinary, slow and routine norms that we fail to see beyond the clouds, especially when the clouds just sit there like forever.

The only message one then gets from those clouds is rain and snow, making us wrap up more to warm than loosen up to feel cool.

Help beyond yourself

Just like I had the help of a plane to see the better side of things, we need a help higher than us be it religious inspiration, a pep-talk, mentoring, sometime to get us out of the rat race and rut of our circumstances to see the bigger picture and scope of things.

We need to be enthused into optimism to make our mindsets adapt to the expectation of good things, successful things, confident things and healthy things.

At that point, you have the tonic for life and if you keep taking it, spring and summer are back again as the clouds are moved on and your circumstances have less dominance over the bigger perspective of things.