Part 6- Nearly Home ( the airport fiasco)

Bye Boat !

I quickly climbed up the ladder , onto the boat and down my hatch. I looked around for anything I may have forgotton. The simple, wooden cabin looked bare without mine and Richard's mess scattered everywhere. I became sad thinking about all the memories this tiny space held. It had kept us safe during storms out at sea, me and Richard had slept there , side by side for months. Goodbye cabin, goodbye boat...



The HOK

We got a lift to the airport with a very chatty tour guide who gave us so much interesting information about Trinidad, it made me want to stay there! Coen gave us each a hug goodbye and we were on our own. We encountered our first problem when we realised there was a R1000 fee on our surfboards, so I reluctantly drew the money from my almost depleted account ( I had invested all my cash in my parents business), knowing Coen would pay me back. We bought a few gifts and then hopped on our connecting flight to Panama. We flew with Copa airlines who we thought were very unproffessional. The plane made lots of funny noises and the air hostesses were rude.



Me with the surfboards that cost me a grand to get here

We arrived in Panama after a 5 hour flight and made our way to the gate. i got lots of funny looks, maybe it was because I was the only barefoot person in the entire airport? We got onto another horrid little Copa aeroplane and spent the 6 hour flight to Brazil, chatting and watching movies.

18 hours in Sau Paulo airport! what a long layover. We had a Big Mac meal for breakfast and then 'set up house' . We found a corner and then put our surfboards at right angles to form a 'hok' which we climbed inside and put our bags against the wall as pillows. The time was spent by watching series, singing very loudly ( I get silly on airport air), doing poi, making bangles and eating fast food. It was pretty enjoyable but by check in time I was keen for a hot bath and a normal bed.

We reach check in counter carrying a backpack, a surfboard and hand luggage bag each. The lady asks for our passports. We hand them over. She looks at Richard's Italian passport and asks if he has had a yellowfever injection. He says ...noo. She says...You may not board this flight but you can speak to the manager . She leads us to this little office and it feels like we are on Border Security!

This was such a nightmare! We got told that Richard was not allowed to board without South African identification or proof of a yellow fever injection, we had neither. His SA passport was in Trinidad with his dad, who didnt even have a phone. They suggested he stay in Brazil for another 2 weeks and have the yellowfever injection. 2 WEEKS!! Richards exams started in a few days time, we didnt have any money to stay in Brazil longer. We hadnt showered in 2 days and this was just too much. They let me call my mom to explain the situation and after balling my eyes out, I think the managers didnt want these two barefooted dirty hooligans in their country and by some miracle let us board the plane.They said we would have major problems at South African customs.

We were overjoyed! We could go back to the motherland! Running to the airport gate we screamed with ecitement and celebrated with alcoholic beverages aboard good old South African Airways. We had a wonderful 8 hour flight. Beautiful African airhostesses, delicous food and a wonderful sleep. Looking at the Atlantic from above the next morning, I grew sad thinking we just crossed the vast ocean in less than 8 hours when it had taken us 2 months in the yacht.

Travel buddies

South African Customs hardly lifted an eyelid at Richards non existing yellowfever certificate and I was so glad that for once something went smoothly. I loved being in South Africa. The Afrikaans accents, the black people, Wimpy, the airport was making me so nostalgic. The last little flight to East London went quickly and I became so excited as I saw the familiar city lights. I was excited to surf, to kitesurf, to see family, for Rich to meet my family, to see friends, to hug my dogs, for a real bed, a real shower. As the plane boomed down the little runway, I held Richard's hand, my 6 month companion, and sighed ' I'm Home ' .