kicking it old skool

And finally, 2+ weeks after getting back from the Comoros, I have finally managed to get this post done and dusted. The title is due to these way hectic malaria pills I am still on. Honestly, the list of side effects would take up another 4 pages (some include suicidal tendencies, extreme paranoia and… death. No really, death) and they fuck me up something awful. I reckon if they can sort their marketing out, they’d really break into the recreational drug market :)

I toyed with the idea of breaking this into chunks, like some of my cohorts did. Then I thought: nah.

So on with today’s lesson:

The trip started on what can only be described as a (potentially) show-stopping note. You see it’s like this: We needed to get from CT to Jo’burg and form there to the island. Simple, yes?

So we rock up on CT airport, all giddy and psyched up. Stroll up to the ticket counter to pick up the tickets that I have booked online about 2 months ago, hand the fella the details, still giddy and smiling and shit. Random fella behind counter says: “I’m confused”. I think: “no kidding, you’re an idiot”. He says: “we’ll, it says here you have a eight-forty flight to Jo’burg to which I reply “yeah, that’s right”.

Then he points to 2 letters next to eight-forty. They say “PM”.

This is bad. Really bad. Because we found ourselves in the “AM” and our flight to the Comoros was at 14:00 (or 2 “PM”).

No in my defence, I have to ask HOW IN GODS NAME can you run a booking website on a 12 hour clock? Second, I booked these tickets over the course of 2 days, in that I checked for flights, rechecked, made sure that we’d arrive at Jo'burg way ahead of schedule, booked tickets and LITERALLY checked them 3 times a week. To have someone at that moment say “you fucked up” was a massive and severe blow to my sanity.

Lastly, I tasked my mother to print out the confirmation mail (since I don’t have a printer at home). My mother could be a lead on CSI. She is meticulous to the n’th degree, especially when it comes to travelling as she books tickets for all the exec’s at her work all the time. She didn’t notice that either (and believe me, she checked)

I still can’t believe it.

Anyhoo, so we where dashing from one airline to the next trying to find an available flight so we can make it in time. Also, it being school holidays and all, most flights where fully booked. Fuck.

About two and a half grand later, we secured passage and I could proceed to bang my skull against random furniture. But I wasn’t going to let this one minor detail get me down, even though it did. The important thing was that we where on our way.

Touched down in Jo’burg, booked into the next flight, minus the drama, spent a fortune on the duty free shop (read: lots of alcohol and other, erm, provisions.) and got our asses on that plane.

The flight could have been better. We flew with Yemenia Air, as they are just about the only guys flying between the Comoros and the rest of the world. Or they where the cheapest, what ever comes first. The air hostesses where freakin’ hot though! They where all Moroccan and needless to say they boiled our collective veggies.

Arrived there quite late at night and for the first time I witnessed Africa in all it’s splendour.

Chaos. Absolute, unbridled, unorganised… CHAOS.

The airport (and I use the term loosely, only because it had a runway and there where planes on it) was this old, dilapidated building that should have been put out of it’s misery about 20 years ago. The “Arrival” terminal consisted of 3 counters of which only one was staffed. Funny, since they only do one flight a WEEK to and from the island so logic would dictate that one could expect higher volumes passing through.

Africa, in all it’s splendour.

At this stage, we’ve travelled for about 12 hours, almost missed our flight to Jo’burg, it’s hot, it’s humid, it’s sticky, the “terminal” smells of urine, sweat and other bodily fluids I’d rather not care to think of and to top it all off, we have to stand in a fucking queue!!

Then there was the military personnel, cruising around, checking you out. I later found out that there have been no less than 19 Coups on the island, so they where understandably twitchy.

Jumped on the shuttles, got to the Hotel, had the welcome drink (non alcoholic), checked in, had dinner, had a welcome drink (very, very much alcoholic) and hit the hay.

First order of business the next morning was, of course breakfast, followed by some exploration of the general area. Let me just start off by saying, for natural beauty, this place could not be beat! The whole island is just one, big ass, lush forest.

The weather could have played along a bit better though, we had about 3 days worth of overcast and windy weather. No worries really because it was still plenty warm and humid and on those days we crashed on one of the adjacent beaches, which was more sheltered from the wind. Did a WHOLE lot of diving, basically as many as we could. I did this awesome wreck dive, the Masiwa, about 30 meters down. I can’t even begin to explain the abundance of sea life we got to see on any one of our dives! If I had to go into details, this post would be a hundreds of pages long. My only regret is that I didn’t organise a underwater camera, because I reckon the pics would have said it all.

On the Thursday we organised a tour to Moroni, the capital of the island. Our tour guide filled us in on some history and customs etc etc. Most of the people who life on the island are quite poor, the towns are very rural and run down.

The market was an eye opener! They basically sell everything from trinkets to intestines, snouts, fish and sandals, all in one spot. The smells where quite, erm, interesting… flies and shit packing everything, goats and small children cruising around freely etc. Saw this brother going to town on a piece of meat with a really really blunt cleaver, pieces of meat flying off in every conceivable direction.

On the way back, I asked our tour guide what the average life expectancy is. He said, quite nonchalant: “oh, about 50 to 60 years”. Having just experienced the market, I believed him.

Did the whole thing in reverse again on the last day. Packed our stuff, got to the “airport” and we all practically ran to get on the airplane. Got home (finally!), shit, shaved, shampooed, unpacked (loose term. read: threw everything out in the living room) and generally enjoyed being home. I had to get my fix of technology again, as I was ragging for it pretty bad. Checked my mail / cell phone / comics / news sites / World of Warcraft, that kinda thing.

And now I’m back in the saddle, feeling quite refreshed and ready to take on new things. I was recently inspired to try that “playing a guitar” thing. I’m also almost through chapter 3 of Sybex 70-229, so the studies are on the go (finally!!!)

And that’s all I have to say about that

UPDATE: Uploaded some Pics of said holiday. They are here.

[G], out

you've got no clue how much I do need you