On the original itinerary we were supposed to have a nice farewell dinner with champagne at the Hotel Olympic in Brazzaville. Plan B was for Jessica to work with the cook at Bombassa and have a farewell dinner there. Plan C was a farewell lunch in Brazzaville. Plan D became a lunch/dinner at the Lebanese Restaurant (fourth visit) in Brazzaville. It is always good to have multiple plans in Africa – not the place for the inflexible and those that crave routine.
On the airplane I was focused on a shower. I could almost feel it. We are in a taxi with Sanya and Sharon. Sanya tells us that Akos’ plan is to get one day room for the four women, and have Andy and Bjarne use Spyros room for a day room. Mark and I can have the choice of splitting up – I join the four girls and he joins the guys – or waiting till Andy and Bjarne are done and using that room. I am pretty pissed (as is Sharon). After all we have been true, the least Akos can do is get us rooms. Sharon opts to pay for her own room (45 Euros). Mark refuses (I am always amazed at how he can make it through the most harrowing experiences – like cancer or several near death experiences in West Africa – and still have such an attachment to money. In a way I envy him – clearly he is not unsettled by these events in the way that I am.
I go to he girls room – third in the shower is not bad. Mark goes off to the guys room and we work out a system to repack. I get the bag we left behind – which was almost empty. Akos carries it and says it is as heavy as Spyros mysterious yellow bag. I think he is kidding but soon enough I discover he is not. The hotel has put the bag somewhere where everything got wet. So it is filled with wet books, papers and clothes – explaining the weight! Compared to everything else this is minor – but I was really fixated on clean clothes to go home. Luckily the travel clothes are just damp. I leave behind the most ruined things and Jessica yells at the staff and makes them dry my clothes (we later find out that Sanya and Sharon’s bags were also wet – only Claire and Laurie had dry stuff – because they used trash bags :-). My suede coat is a mess – but I have chilled (after seeing a depressing story on hunger on T.V.) and don’t care much anymore.We manage to all be ready by 3:30 PM and off we go to the restaurant. We are all a sweaty mess again within five minutes. We act like a pack of wild elephants (have to leave by 5:30 PM) and rearrange the tables at the restaurant. Two local women look at us in horror. Jessica orders the food – and the ordering of drinks is sheer chaos. Jean Pierre comes; Jean Pierre goes. And he comes back again. Akos is trying to recap the trip. Jessica is working with the kitchen. One of our group members starts having issues and goes off. A wine glass breaks. Akos continues recapping – with people coming and moving food around. Akos is asking questions – which occasionally are answered. His memory is amazing – but he does miss some things – which I am only too happy to point out (at least I am listening). A cake comes (instead of the promised champagne). It is frozen (this is Africa). Jessica goes to find a microwave. The recap continues – we are now doing the last week. Akos is a master spinner – I wonder if we were on the same trip. But his spinning works somewhat and I am starting to see the adventure. I guess the difference between adventure and disaster is whether you survived or not – and we did survive. This feels almost like a movie scene ….. including the attempts to split the drinks costs ... which are a mess.
Take taxis to the hotel and collect the luggage. Jean Pierre does not want any glitches – he is stuck with the British group (he may also have one or two groups stuck elsewhere – which is bad but not as bad as when a boatman in Equatorial Guinea demanded double money not to throw Jean Pierre’s group into the sea …). He clearly does not need us under foot any more! We get to the airport. Not very crowded by Maya Maya standards. Jean Pierre says goodbye and we go through passport control. This is Africa – there is a problem. Even though we have e-tickets we cannot go to check in without a ticket. Akos goes back for Jean Pierre and off they go to Air France Office (which is mercifully opened). We are all scared – I cannot imagine being in Brazzaville till Monday or later. Jessica comes and goes – Akos comes by and says tickets are being printed. Feels like an eternity – but it is just a few minutes. Jean Pierre comes by the door and gives u the now familiar “wait – all will be OK signal. Akos returns and passes out the e-ticket receipts (how could it not have occurred to him to print them before leaving home?). We start the check in process – the second of what proves to be 12 checks of the passports.
During check in military guys walk in and just go to the front of the line. I take perverse pleasure in knowing the rude awakening they will have in Paris -- they will have to wait along with everyone. They are fat – the privileged classes are fat in Africa because they eat so much. I really do not like the “privileged” Congolese – there is something depraved about them. Every step takes us closer to the Air France flight – including the luggage check (yes, we will find many bombs by hand). After luggage check there is another stamping of passports (even though there was one just before). The purpose of this checkpoint seems to be asking for money – unbelievably the officials ask every person for money. Mark says “I am American – I am not allowed and gets through”. They ask him for beer money (on the job!!!). I say “that tall guy, my husband, took all my money” (which was true). No one from group gives them any money but later we see about half the people do. This is Africa.
The waiting lounge is actually air conditioned and has a bar. We sit at a table and the barman hurriedly makes a “Reserved” sign for another so we know another fat VIP is coming. Nothing much happens – we are getting closer. We do need to use head lamps to use the toilet (at the international airport!). And of course our own toilet paper.
Boarding takes forever – but I feel myself relax with each step. There is luggage on the tarmac. Others look to see if it is theirs – but I do not care. I am glad to leave anything and everything behind (well other than my Blackberry). On the plane I use the toilet – it is amazing what delight I suddenly have in soap and toilet paper and just general cleanliness. I am actually looking forward to sleeping on the flight – after two nights sleeping in a canoe …. The plane finally takes off – Goodbye (and Good Riddance!) Brazzaville ………. I seriously doubt we will meet again.
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