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Cape Town, part 1: the flight - Accretions

Fata Morgana
2005-03-31 11:05
Cape Town, part 1: the flight
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I just returned last night from two weeks in South Africa. Our flight to Cape Town was asking for disaster: a four-hour layover in Minneapolis followed a measly one-hour layover in Amsterdam. When we arrived at MSP, the previous flight to Amsterdam hadn't even left yet - but alas, it was packed full, so we dawdled for another three hours until our flight was scheduled to leave. Half of our flight's passengers had boarded when the attendants announced that there was "a mechanical problem," and they'd update us in half an hour. Half an hour later, they delayed another half an hour. The desk told us that the plane's rudder was broken, gave us vouchers for airfare and food, and promised that when we finally took off, our missed connections would be magically fixed. The mechanics continued to put us off every half hour for over four hours; finally, everyone got off the plane and Northwest brought in a new one. The following flight to Amsterdam - the one scheduled after ours (and unfortunately just as packed as the rest) - had already been in the air for almost two hours when we finally took off.

Needless to say, we missed our connection, and the magic rebookings promised by the Northwest officials turned into long lines of three hundred snarky, line-cutting passengers. The handful of KLM Transfer employees in charge of rebooking our connections provided astoundingly inefficient, clueless service. They spent a lot of their time standing around staring at our now-missed tickets, and took a quarter of an hour or more for each passenger's rebooking. At least they gave us more travel vouchers.

Amsterdam only had one flight to Cape Town every day, so we were re-routed through London on British Airways flights. After a couple of hours of waiting, we boarded a rickety turboprop for the 45-minute flight, only to find that our next connection was also delayed for four hours. (At least they were up-front about the delay.) Though we only managed to eke €20 of food vouchers out of the recalcitrant British Airways employees, we were able to track down some Duplo (in an airplane-shaped carrying case, no less), rare in South Africa, for D's niece, and I also bought a nifty mini-Boggle game encased in a pen. We finally boarded just before midnight, leaving behind an eerily empty airport. I was hoping to have a window seat and see the lazy winding rivers and spotted landscape of central Africa as we passed over it like I had back in 2001 on my first overseas trip, but we just grazed western Africa during the night and then flew over the Atlantic the rest of the way, and I was two seats away from a window anyway.

We touched down midday on Thursday after 36 hours of travel, and about 12 hours after we expected to arrive. D's mum met us at the airport and took us to their place in Metterich (south of downtown and Table Mountain), where we spent the afternoon finishing homework, reading, and napping. David was able to make his afternoon eye appointment, though his morning consulate appointment had to be rescheduled for the next Tuesday. Perhaps due to the long travel time, our circadian rhythms were already more or less recalibrated. In the late afternoon D's sister J, his 19-month-old neice B, and his newborn nephew ü visited. B was scared by the fluorescent green stain that D's optometrist had used in his eyes (and the next few times she saw him she immediately said "eyes" before she settled on "uncle D"). We presented her with the Duplo - which she quickly spread across the kitchen floor and out into the garden - and taught her how to press the pieces together. Thursday evening we visited David's other two siblings and their respective SOs, starting with dinner at Balducci's Pizza with A and J, then a drowsy visit with S and V (whose wedding I had attended during my previous trip to Cape Town three years ago).

Over the next few days, I began to relax and not worry about what I was missing back in Berkeley. I read a lot: a book of essays by Kingsolver (some excellent), the last few months of National Geographic magazines, parts of Bill Bryson's latest book, and whatever else I found lying around. We also hiked a lot (most of D's family and friends are outdoors enthusiasts, so it's hard to avoid), visited Robben Island and Vrygrond Township, and socialized with lots of great, interesting people. I'm in the process of writing a more detailed summary of each day, so stay tuned!
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Tecato Gusano: postcards
wealhtheow
2005-03-31 19:30 (UTC)
(no subject)
picture_keywordpostcards
From what I've heard about KLM, your experience was par for the course. Sounds like a nice trip so far, though!
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Fata Morgana
chimerically
2005-03-31 19:41 (UTC)
(no subject)
Yep. At least the trip back was uneventful. :~)
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Gaia
temperategoddss
2005-04-01 01:16 (UTC)
(no subject)
The book of essays by Barbara Kingsolver, was that High Tide in Tucson? Or does she have another book of essays?

Oh, and by the way:

*seethes with jealousy at your having visited South Africa... three times?!*

;)
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Fata Morgana
chimerically
2005-04-04 02:27 (UTC)
(no subject)
It was High Tide, borrowed from gooeyduck.

:~)
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Kris
anemone
2005-04-01 02:16 (UTC)
(no subject)
At the risk of sounding overly cheerful and annoying upbeat, life is what you make it.

Maybe you're decision on grad schools was wrong, maybe it was right, and maybe you just don't know enough yet.

The real question is what you want to do now, going forward. What are you goals? Where do you want to be? You could consult a book like "What Color is your Parachute" or maybe there are career councelling resources you can check out that might be useful.
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Fata Morgana
chimerically
2005-04-04 02:32 (UTC)
(no subject)
Thanks. My main frustration is that I don't know what I want to do, but SIMS wants me to know - and soon. Perhaps I should try some sort of career counseling. My experience with them in the past hasn't been good: they gave lots of obvious advice and didn't know or want to learn anything about me or my fields of interest, so I walked away more frustrated than I went in. But maybe it could be better. Of course, the obvious person to talk to about this is my advisor. It's funny, though, how everyone I talk to - advisors, colleagues, friends - has their own idea of where I should be heading with my research given their understanding of me, and none of their ideas sound quite right to me.
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