Day 19: Kasane (Chobe) to Johannesburg, Sept 15

Day 19: Kasane (Chobe) to Johannesburg, Sept 15

QOTD:

Sister have you heard

'Bout Johannesburg?

What’s the word: Johannesburg!

Hey, we’re spending the night in Johannesburg, that’s the word!

Weather: Hot!

The entire departure lounge in Kasane

Today, THB and DB branch out and have breakfast at Safari: same same except they offer waffles and the almond croissants have vanished from both Safari and Bush.

And, today is travel day: we don’t have a pick-up until 11:40am...good thing D checked because they have the transfer for the old schedule. The old schedule: a non-stop to Jo’burg. The new schedule: flight to Gabarone (capital of Botswana...THB will have to start counting world capitals visited soon, hopefully Maputo, Namibia is on Chobe River! OOPS, Maputo is the capital of Mozambique) and then on to Jo’burg.

Good thing we are first in line at check-in: 30 minutes later we have the right boarding passes (the check-in person first tore up a set, then gave the four us the same seats on the Gabarone-Jo’burg flight), had to check our heavy carryon bags, M had been recalled to verify that her bag did indeed have a heavy metal object inside (a doorknocker...who buys a heavy doorknocker early in a 4 week trip? M!). Bad news: we sit in departure “lounge” for another good while, making us wonder if we’ll make our connecting flight.

Gabarone

Airport in Gabarone is two story and looks very new. Of course, we’re on a propeller 50 seater, so walk off the plane on to the tarmac and into airport, no a/c jetway for THB. Exit (phew, DB figures out that “exit” above the doors means exit into the airport proper as opposed to onto the street) and go through immigration. Small form, clearly laid out with pens, and then FIVE immigration officials (Zimbabwe equivalent: nobody in sight and lots of US Dollars required), pick your own booth, no waiting, and we’re in the departure lounge in plenty of time to catch our 45 minute flight to Jo’burg.  

One bag left on the tarmac?

New-ish Gabarone Airport (gotta get me one of them vests)

Well, THB is not sure. On the board, it says gate 3. Ten minutes before the flight is due to leave, there’s nobody that looks like an Air Botswana person around the gate (there are about 30 people scattered around the large lounge, they look like passengers mostly because they aren’t wearing those lightweight neon vests). 

We are being serenaded by a flock of birds up in the rafters; very pretty and very constant. Artificially piped in? Hmmmmm...highly doubtful. Maybe the 30 people are bird whistle lovers? At least with this delay and only 3 planes in sight, our bags have had plenty of time to get warmed up on the tarmac (see the pic above THB took of a solo bag laying out there while we walked in).

Looks substantial, right?

No problem: the gate people show up, we cross the tarmac and board, ready to go only a few minutes late, the plane almost full (and totally international, there must be a UN conference in Jo’burg tomorrow). Oh, and, of course, they have assigned several people to our seats. Maybe the Kasane check-in person shouldn’t have torn up the first set of boarding passes after all. No problem, they haven’t overbooked the flight.

Looks familiar, where have I seen this airport before?

Who are these guys?

And an early arrival!!

WHOA!! THB thinks this all look familiar (remember, malaria pills can make you crazy). We’re back in Gabarone! Something about a transponder malfunction and South Africa won’t let planes land without functioning transponders….maybe they read about the Korean crash at SFO where manual mode was in effect (something the Korean crew didn’t seem to know about). So, a u-turn and back we go. The pilot says not to panic. THB immediately starts sweating like a warthog and is in a state just below panic, though not scared or nervous…THB is lying:  he’s clearly in touch with all his feelings: full out panic, scared, and nervous.

Johannesburg? Hard to tell through the haze

Better than a plane sitting in the runway? Less scary than a helicopter flight? Faster than a speeding bullet? Ready to use your seat as a toilet instead of as a flotation device? THB manages to get the plane back on the ground, an amazing feat considering he is in row 10 (and sharing the seat with a woman who does not appear to speak English).

A young woman in one of those ubiquitous flimsy neon vests gets on the plane and goes into the cockpit, surfacing about 5 minutes later (gosh, she looks young!). At least this airport must be Air Botswana’s maintenance headquarters, so they are likely to have the required part. About 20 minutes later (normal baking time appears to be 13 minutes, we are well cooked at 20 minutes), we’re ready to give it another go to Jo’burg (What’s the word? JOHANNESBURG!).

THB gets tired of pedaling the plane and the pilots take over and we land in Jo’burg an hour late. Then we spend a bit over an hour (i.e., a long time!) in the immigration line; another first for THB, having his temp taken by a machine before admittance into SA; we guess they are worried about ebola.

These are not our bags

Our bags are there, finding the shuttle to the airport hotel takes some doing and some guy who is seeking a tip (and gets one, begrudgingly) somehow “leads” us to the van, which is hard to find. Twenty minutes and we’ve made it to the Town Lodge which is downscale apart of the City Hotel chain.

Our room has an adjoining room, which scarily is open to us. Now THB is worried (panicked? nervous?) that someone checking in will be able to access our room.. After 20 minutes of finding someone that can reassure us it was just the hotel having left the other side of the door combo open, the four us go to the restaurant next door which is accessible by using our room key to open the large and tall gate between the hotel and restaurant. 

The Local Grill….mediocre, with a tall Jack Black brewski for THB and pinotage for the other three, D&M pick up the bill (they are running behind in the shared expenses since THB and DB paid for the first rental car).

Some 5 spice/oil combo spread for the bread, mixed with a knife by waiter

Phew!!!! We did nothing but move from one town to the big city and it felt like we need to get back into the bush!

Book Review: The Forgiven, Lawrence Osborne (novel). Very well written, a jetset week-end long party in an outer village of Morocco. On the way to the party, a Brtitish couple is involved in a car accident where a local is killed and the husband (an alcoholic doctor and twat) has to go with the grieving father, who has come to pick up his only son, to an even more remote village for the burial. Recommended