It’s Youth Day and I feel about a thousand years old. Every time I get sent on assignment to the Kruger Park, something happens to delay my trip.
Getting lost in Polokwane for three hours or getting a car with the drivers seat jammed in reclining position, for instance. Then I have to phone Raymond Travers, the media relations guy, to ask if there’s any way they can let me in late. Then Raymond has to tell me, sorry, not a chance. Result: I have to drive like a maniac to get to the gates in time.
Guess where I’m going this morning? The delay today: our plane swallowed a bird, which didn’t go down too well, so they had to turn it around. I’m now sitting glumly on the floor of Cape Town’s domestic departures tent trying not to make Shaun’s shoulder too soggy. A well-travelled-looking man (he has a tan, lots of wrinkles, untidy hair, worn-in boots and a happy twinkle in his eye despite the setback) is cheering us up with stories about memorable flight delays.
‘I remember that time, back in the 80s, when we weren’t allowed to fly over most of Africa, and we had to refuel at Ilha do Sol,’ he says. ‘Our plane broke down and we were stuck there for 14 hours. There were no airport buildings, so we had to sit under the plane on the runway. There were only two vehicles on the island and they used them to ferry the passengers to the beach. We each got about 15 minutes at the beach.’
‘Then there was the time we were flying back from Switzerland. We sat on the plane at the airport for five hours before they came and told us the flight wouldn’t be leaving. I’d already noticed all these planes landing, but none taking off. It just happened to be the day Swissair went bankrupt. The fuel companies refused to refuel the planes. All the passengers were stranded in Zurich – and Zurich isn’t cheap! Luckily, our neighbours were two Americans who had a cellphone, which was rare in those days. They made arrangements for us to get on another flight. If it hadn’t been for them, we’d have had a really terrible time – the queues at the airport were monstrous.’
‘Another time in Venezuela…’ he started, but the Kulula staff came to tell us that the engine damage had been repaired and we could all get back on the plane before I could find out what happened in Venezuela. Only a two-hour delay, then. If I drive like a maniac, there’s still a small chance we’ll make it to Kruger in time.
