7th May 2009

I just knew saying how much I loved airports was going to come back and bite me on the ass!!

Today, I crawled out of bed at 4.45am and the lovely M took me to the airport to check in for my 7.30pm flight to Lalibela. The first sign that things weren’t going to go plan was the fact I’d lost my ticket and couldn’t find it anywhere. I emptied all my bags and searched all over E and M’s house, but it was nowhere to be seen.

I was sure actually checking in would be no problem as my booking would be on the computer system, but getting past the guards and into the airport itself would be an issue: they’re very strict on the rule you have to show ID and a ticket before being able to go in. But the only option was to try, so I loaded all my bags on a trolley and went with M to try and explain to the guards.

For the first time ever, the guard didn’t ask for my ticket, just checked my passport and waved me through. Fantastic! I hurriedly waved goodbye to M and shot over to the luggage scanners, before they changed their mind!

Check in was fine, and the lovely man organising it found my booking on the system without a problem. He didn’t even notice that my luggage was just slightly overweight (with teaching materials … and, er, books for me). So far so good.

I went up the escalator to the departure lounge, looking forward to having a cup of tea in my usual café while reading my book, and then having a good sleep on the plane. I got my cup of tea, finished a couple of chapters of my book and we boarded roughly on time.

A note about boarding domestic flights in Ethiopia (although it may be the same in all countries – I have no idea!). There are no fixed seats on domestic flights so it’s a bit of an ‘every man for himself’ situation, but I’ve got it down to a fine art now. Normally you go from the boarding lounge to a bus, and everyone rushes to be on there first – there’s really no need. If you’re last on the bus then you’re first off the bus – and that’s where you really need your running shoes!

Being British, I like to appear polite and give the impression I’m not really trying to push past that Monk and the pregnant woman and get on the plane first, but who am I kidding? So I do this kind of running walk/shuffle and I’m getting quite good at being within the first ten on the plane, thus securing a coveted window seat.

But I digress.

I dozed as we waited for the plane to take off, but I woke up as we started taxiing along the runway, gathering speed for the take off. Abruptly, we stopped, and I heard the pilot say ‘doors open’. Hmm. I wasn’t particularly awake, but I guessed that wasn’t good.

I was right, it wasn’t. The pilot announced there was a mechanical failure, so we would be waiting at the airport until it was fixed. This has happened to me once before when I was flying from Addis to Lalibela, and they had tried to fix it for 30 minutes or so before transferring us to another aeroplane, so I wasn’t particularly worried and settled down to read my book.

But 30 minutes later the pilot announced that it was going to take a lot longer than they thought to fix the problem, and it would be much more comfortable for us to wait in the airport. He had a point – it was becoming stiflingly hot on the plane, and everyone was getting irritable and restless.

So we all trooped off of the plane, back on the bus (no running this time!) and back to the airport lounge where we sat for a further 45 minutes or so, before a very nice man came over and told us that the plane was unlikely to be mended in the next hour and the airline would be providing us with refreshments. Great!

We were led into an airport café where we were given vouchers and told we could get a hot breakfast – except the only thing I could see being cooked was omelette, and I hate eggs. When I asked one of the waitresses if there was anything else but egg, she just shrugged and grunted. I, being a drama queen, flounced off back to my table and sulked until a nice lady came over with some cake and tea for me. Suitably embarrassed, I thanked her and ate my breakfast with no further complaint.

I can’t remember how long we sat there, but I was acutely aware of Ab and A waiting for me at Lalibela airport. I couldn’t even call them as there’s no phone reception there, although I sent Ab a text message just in case it got through. I could only hope that the airport staff there would tell them (which they’re normally quite good at doing).

Typically, the minute I decided to nip off to the loo was when everything started happening, and I came back to café to find people collecting bags and quizzing airport staff who were waving lists and muttering into crackling walkie-talkies. I soon discovered that our plane was broken, there were no other planes to take us, and the afternoon flights to Lalibela had been cancelled because of strong winds. So all passengers travelling to Bahir Dar were led off to be rebooked onto the afternoon flights, but Lalibela passengers were taken to the immigration area while they tried to figure out what to do with us!

I attached myself to few people who looked as if they knew what was going on, and eventually the airline people reappeared to tell us we’d been booked into a four star hotel, would be reunited with our luggage and then put on flights the next morning. I was so grateful, as I’d started to fear we’d have to fend for ourselves and that we would never see our luggage again. Totally unfounded fears, as it turned out.

Thankfully, I also managed to get hold of Ab so I could apologise profusely for making him wait at the airport for 3 hours!

So I am currently sitting on my bed in said four star hotel after a lovely lunch of fish goulash and rice. The hotel staff and airline staff have been great, and I’m very excited that I get to have one more proper hot shower before going back to Lalibela. Bliss!