One of those trips

Jan 3-4 Nairobi

Every once in a while, I seem to have one of “those” trips…nothing exactly went wrong, but it seemed like a series of small irritations.    At Edmonton airport, the first direction I got was to go to the Delta counter at the extreme east end of the airport; when I got there, the helpful Delta lady told me that KLM had a designated temporary check-in, at the extreme west end of the airport.  Since one of my never-achieved New Year’s resolutions is to incorporate more exercise into daily activities, I cheerfully hiked off to the extreme other end of the airport.

The line to check in to KLM was long and slow.  It appeared that many people were moving – or at least that was my assumption based on the variety and volume of luggage that was appearing. Several people had severely overweight luggage resulting in frantic repacking on the floor in front of the counter.  Since most of the repacking went into the carry-on luggage that was going on the same plane, I wasn’t sure how this was a benefit to anyone, but it did provide some interesting insights into how, and what, people pack.

After checking in the usual hurry up and wait for security,  and then off to the gate, only to be told that we would be departing late as the plane had not yet arrived.  It eventually did, and then had to be “groomed”, which always makes me imagine a crew with manicure scissors and a comb carefully tidying up the plane and trimming its nose hairs.

Eventually a clean and tidy plane was ready, it was “all aboard” and we were ready to go. The captain mentioned several times that our late take off was due to the late incoming plane, until I wanted to go and reassure her that we weren’t blaming her.  There was the usual confusion as people tried to stuff their overloaded carry-on bags into the bins, and we were off.

The staff were complaining that there were more than 60 special meal requests on board, and it was causing great confusion, particularly since some people had decided to trade seats.  I thought it was even more interesting that several people, once they saw the special meals, also asked for them.  I truly admired the cabin attendant’s ability to smile and patiently explain that you had to order them ahead of time…even when he had to explain it to the same family a second time after the second meal. A movie,   a nice nap, another meal, and we arrived in Amsterdam early.  There was no parking space available so we got to wait on the runway.

A quick run through Amsterdam airport (from one end to the other) to discover that the gate had been changed, so a quick run back to the gate next to the one I arrived at.  Amsterdam airport is about the same size as Edmonton so I felt like I had done my exercise.  Some confusion loading the plane, along with apologies that we were late because the “incoming plane was delayed”.  This time I had the first seat inside the door, with plenty of leg room.  Two English gents were sitting next to me; they were coming “out to Kenya” to do some missionary work.

Lunch was served – exactly the same lunch as they served between Edmonton and Amsterdam.  It wasn’t any better from having been prepared in Europe.  One of the gents next to me had special ordered “vegetarian” and then proceeded to complain that he didn’t get the cheese and chocolate pudding that we got because the airline couldn’t tell the difference between vegetarian and vegan.  Given the amount of wine he drank, while complaining about the lack of choice, I was surprised he could even tell what he was eating.

I was facing the fold down seats that the cabin staff used, and about halfway into the trip couple was seated there.  She complained non-stop about how cold the plane was, and how unhealthy it was to be that cold. I eventually closed my eyes and pretended to sleep so she stopped talking.  As soon as I opened my eyes, she started again.  The cabin attendant brought her a complaint form, but the instructions said to complete it in upper case letters, and she then started to complain that she “didn’t like capital letters”.  The man appeared to be stoic.  When the staff brought hot towels for us to wash our hands he pulled up his trousers and wrapped the towels around his legs, so perhaps he really was cold.  Eventually, the cabin attendants told them they had to return to their seats for the next meal service, and the man simply said NO.  After a great deal of conferring among, they were seated in business class for the rest of the flight.  I wasn’t sorry to hear them go. Lunch, or it might have been supper, unfortunately included a salad with mozzarella and tomato, causing Mr English Vegetarian to, yet again, give a speech about the difference between being a vegetarian and a vegan.

Because I was sitting next to the door, I was first off the plane, and first through immigration, a record for me of about 20 minutes.  Unfortunately the luggage was not as lucky, and it took almost an hour for it to arrive.  On the positive side, though, I was highly entertained by the behaviour of one particular man.  At first, he was directly across the luggage carousel from me.  A tall, thin, white man who could have done with the attentions of a comb and manicure scissors.  By pushing and elbowing, he managed to work his way around the carousel towards me, walking in front of everyone, until he was directly in front of the chute where the bags come out.  He then attempted to grab his bag when it came out, but because of the way it was on the carousel, he ended up running alongside the carousel holding on to his bag until he was almost back where he started. He got it off, handed it over to his much smaller female companion, and then made his way back in front of everyone to the chute.  When his next bag came down, he simply shouted to his companion, and made many cWomplicated arm gestures, which resulted in her simply grabbing the bag when it came by. The next bag that he identified and managed to wrestle off the carousel wasn’t his and he had to put it back.  He returned to the shouting and signalling method until all was done.

Because I was arriving late at night, I had arranged with my hotel for a driver to pick me up. Walking out into the hot and dark air, I was, as they say in Ghana, “met with his absence”.  A kind lady from the taxi office phoned him, and he told her he had no rides booked.  Then she phoned the hotel, who told her that they had cancelled my ride.  By this point, I was happy to book a taxi with her company; I must have looked tired, because she offered me a discount before I asked.

When I arrived at the hotel they explained that they had sent me an email with the driver’s name and phone number, and received an “out of office” message, so they cancelled the driver. Oh well.  The hotel was what I expected of a three star hotel in Kenya — clean enough, quiet enough, and cheap enough.  I always think that three star should be renamed “good enough”.