As all holidays, a holiday starts the moment you set your foot on the petrol and turn the nose of your vehicle towards your destination.
I felt as exited as ‘n toddler awaiting his first Christmas present, having seen all the wrappings and trappings, but not sure about what to expect.
At 02h45 we leave our house and we are on our merry way to Oliver Tambo Airport. We left on time and safe in the knowledge that we have enough of that scarce commodity, time, we cruise along way within the speeding limit.
We enter Johannesburg. Knowing there are always millions of directional signs, we are not worried. Until we realize we don’t know where we are, because there are no directions to the airport. Wish they would first put up the boards with the new names before they remove the old.
As you all know, men automatically think women don’t know a thing, so when I tell hubby to take the “city” off ramp, he looks at me as if I’ve lost a marble or two, and promptly takes the opposite direction. And exactly here, is where the race against time begins.
We drive around like scalded cats, dry mouthed and very stressed, even tried to reverse on the high way (don’t ever try that at home, it is highly dangerous) and then we decide the best way would be to make enquiries at a petrol station. We get the info and screech off towards the Airport. But then we still have to make one final wrong turn, just to make absolutely sure we will have to run our tails off to make the check in.
By now, the speedometer is making smoking signals and we are way above the speeding limit, but who cares? The only thing we are worried about is getting to that plane on time.
Arriving at the airport was a nightmare. So many cars and people!! We park the car in the first available space (obviously the furthest from the lifts, and my idea to boot), grab our luggage and make a mad dash for the check in.
True to my nature I nearly fall over when my foot touched that conveyer belt. But luckily I kept my pose and image in tact. Not that there was much left with the sweat pouring down my face like the Niagra Falls and my breath wheezing like a deflating tyre.
We reach check-in. Hey, that was fast and very efficient. Only two minutes to spare until boarding. But the lady says, if you’ve reached check-in on time, they cannot leave without you.
Luggage, what can I say about luggage? If it wasn’t for hubby’s keen eye, we would have been in Cape Town and our luggage in Durban. But that was quickly sorted out and we were on our way. As my dad would have said, “Julle het dit gemaak met die dikte van ‘n polonieskil.” But we made it, and that’s all that matters.
When we entered the plane I looked around for that pretty lady with the broad smile and the little scarve around the neck. But hubby gently reminds me that I am flying one of the cheap flights and those ladies weren’t on this flight. But the staff were friendly and very helpful.
I watched while they demonstrated all the safety features and must confess, I had to keep myself from giggling when they showed the way to the emergency exits. It does look very funny.
Take-off, what a blast!! I enjoyed that terribly and actually wanted to ask them to do it one more time.
I don’t have much to say about the sandwiches we ate, except that they were dry and not very tasty and expensive!! And that from a well known franchise. I was surprised. The coffee was great.
Touch Down. What an absolutely wonderful feeling!! Without a hitch and the feeling when that plane hits the breaks thrilled me beyond words!!
When we left the plane, the wind just slapped us in the face. Cold, cold, cold. I thought I was back in the middle of winter. Not even the thick jacket I had on, could keep the icicles at bay.
I felt lost like the ugly duckling. No one really seemed interested in helping. Everyone was running around like ants, all on their own hasty mission. Luckily a quick call to our tour leader calmed our nerves and we settled down to wait for our tour.