Moscow train trip

Hi Friends,

In an earlier post (http://expectmeagain.blogspot.com/2014/03/flying-off-into-space-for-moment.html), I mentioned my trip to Baikonur in Kazahkstan.

What I did not mention was an obligatory 6 hour layover at Domodedovo International, Moscow on the return flight to Dubai and eventually Cape Town. Domodedovo is one of three commercial international airports servicing Moscow, the others being  Sheremetyevo (where Andrew Snowdon holed up) and Vnukovo (infamous for being the site where a passenger jet flew into a highway in 2012). 

I decided that an unenforced lounging at an airport was not what I had pictured myself doing in Russia. On our inbound journey, I had no time to buy my good wife her set of wooden Russian dolls and I did not anticipate a calm return home were I to arrive empty-handed.

Options were: Take a bus, taxi or a train  for the approximately 50km journey.into the centre of Moscow. I heard many stories of Russian taxi rip-offs, so I marked that course of action as undesireable. The buses I saw were marked only in Russian and I found the language impenetrable. This left me with the train option and I was hugely encouraged at the airport because most of the signage were bilingual Russian and English. Somehow I imagined it would be the same for the rest of the journey.

I got myself a ticket on the airport express train from Domodedovskaya train station. It was to bring me to the outer ring of the Moscow metro, from here I was to make my way to the inner Moscow metro network.

My initial bravado vanished like mist before the African sun when I got off at the outer ring station Pavaletskaya and all the signs were only in Russian.

I had with me  a pamphlet with the train service layout and with this instrument, I managed to figure out how to get to the station closest to Red Square and to buy a ticket to get there. I needed to get to Polschcad Revolutsii, two stations away on the green line. The names look very different in Cyrillic though.

The first thing I had to figure out was in which direction my train was leaving the platform at Pavaletskaya. The platforms cater for trains leaving in both directions. I decided to jump on the first train irrespective of direction. I made up my mid to look for the Polschad Revolutsii (in Cyrillic) two stations hence, if that name was not reflected, I had clearly gone in the wrong direction, which meant that three stations from that point, in the opposite direction, I would find my correct station. Good logic, I thought at the time!

I was blessed with my choice. I got to Polschad Revolutsii at my first attempt and proceeded through the lines of flea market stalls to the Red Square (see pics)

Russian policeman at the Red Square stalls

In front of St Basils on Red Square

So I achieved success in my mission and bought the Matruschka for the good wife! At the time it was nearing 18:00 and I saw young female Russian workers returning home walking in 6-inch highs on the cobble stone surface. I was amazed at how steadily and quickly they progressed over the cobblestoned red square. Is Russia not the country where models run a 100 metres race in very high heels annually? Having seen this sort of walking on Red Square, I can quite believe it!!!

Just off red square, I also visited a most expensive underground mall! I got out of there as soon as I could, since spending that kind of money in such places is not what I call sport! Call me stingy but I have to draw the line somewhere!!!

Matruschka set bought for good wife at RedSquare stall

I then had to get back to Domodedovo for my outbound flight. For some unknown reason I thought that getting back would be easier. It was not!!! At Polschad Revolutsii, I easily bought a ticket to Pavaletskaya from a vending machine but, for the life of me, I couldn't find the right platform!!! Since I came up from the bowels of the earth via one set of escalators, I presumed to go back down the same way ... and it simply refused to conform to my logic. What I did not realize at the time was that on the way back I had chosen a different set of escalators that only went 3/4 of the way down. I must have looked very strange riding the same set escalators up and down continuously .. I certainly felt very uncomfortable doing so. One thing I had undertaken NOT TO DO even before I landed in foreign places was to ask the locals for help ... to my suspicious mind, it is the quickest way to be tagged as a potential robbery target.

Eventually, I tried walking further down the platform, found some staircases leading further down and landed on the right platform. Here I decided to use the same station-numbering logic and again I was blessed to get to Pavaletskaya at the first attempt. Once there, I had no trouble finding the express train to Domodedovskaya and I arrived in good time for my flight.

One of the other reasons for my decision not to stay at Domodedovo International was the lack of English reading material at the newsstands. I found exactly zero english papers or magazines, which I found weird at an international airport.

I had not other issues at the airport and made my way to Cape Town via Dubai without trouble.

I would like to tell you next about my 39-hour oddessy  from Denpassar Airport in Bali to Cape Town.

If you like this posting and find it ok, I promise to write the 39-hour one, If the readership does not justify more air travel postings, I'll probably revert to writing about the windy Argus bicycle race  in 2010.

Until next time,
Salani kahle, stay well, до свидания

Quickie ...something that could go wrong ...

Hi there!,

A quickie, simply because all my posts started resembling novels!

We returned from a conference in Algiers via CDG, Paris. Somehow, the flight departure venue was changed from Terminal 2 to Terminal 1 and we were dropped at the wrong entry gate at Terminal 1. This meant that: we could either wait for another bus to gather and drop us at the correct gate but we had no idea what such a 'correct' bus would look like. I had been studying the layout of Terminal 1 and thought I had found a solution. That entry gate opposite from where we where seemed to me like the right place to go.

No-one agreed with me and it would have necessitated going back outside through the gate we entered - not the right thing to do!

I however found a way to slip out and entered by way of the other gate. As I made my way up the escalator, I started recognising parts of the Terminal and was more convinced I was going to find the departure gate. Unfortunately, a French security guard or gendarme noticed i was coming from the wrong direction and attempted to stop me. Now at that time my French was not 'on spec' and it appeared the guard could only converse in his home language.

Funny how quickly one runs out of decent signs when trying to communicate with a foreigner and a foreign land!

Eventually, I calmed down and showed the guard my boarding pass for the changed gate at Terminal 1. He smiled and half dragged me to the right gate.

Lesson for me?? Show officials an official piece of paper before attempting to engage in a discussion in a foreign country and language.

Oh and I got there in time for my departure time and alerted the boarding gate of the others stuck at the wrong entrance gate. Sometimes it pays to go with your gut feel.

Until my next post wherein I will tell of my trip to red square from Domodedovo International.

Port Elizabeth 2010 ... the World Cup

Hi Friends,

Almost forgot to tell you of our family roadtrip to Port Elizabeth (PE) to watch Cote d'Voir play Portugal in the 2010 Soccer World Cup! (#SoccerWorldCup)

I could not get tickets for the Cape Town Stadium games, so I got tickets for the PE match. This meant a 700-plus km road trip in the middle of a wet winter! Our trip was free from rain however.

Thanks be to God for travelling mercies!

We left Stellenbosch around 23:30 at arrived in PE around 06:30 the next morning, having travelled straight through the night. Not with the Beast (it expired at the hands of a colleague around 1981in Durban) but with my current well-behaved Frenchie, a Renault Megane 2.0 16V.

We arrived in PE at the stadium before dawn and took this impressive pic of the Nelson #Mandela Bay Stadium from across an artificial lake! I also include a pic of the similarly impressive inside of the stadium.

Portugal and Cote d'Voir line up for their anthems in a nearly full Nelson Mandela Bay soccer stadium 

ViewfromtheSeaViewRentalPorch

We rented a house in Seaview, Port Elizabeth. A quiet neigbourhood with people seemingly looking out for each other, really.

Seaview is situated on the coast and, in summer, would be a fantastic venue to stay at.

HorseTraining@SeaviewBeach

The winter stay was for the most part brave but when we left the sun had come out as can be seen from these beautiful beach scenes.

Daughter took to the beautiful beach in winter garb 

After watching a great match, we travelled back home the same way we came, except that we paused to take in the sights of our beautiful country. Like the Storms River area near Uitenhage ...

Storms River ravine from a bridge

We never went to the bungee jump at the Storms River bridge but took in the fauna and flora of the area.

We went to Jeffreys Bay to see what the hallaballoo was all about but unfortunately none of us are surfers so we just saw a part of J-Bay's magnificent beach.

Part of the JBay beach expanse

We did not tarry but hurried on home where these sort of sights await us on a daily basis:

Simonsberg captured from Stellenboschberg

A close-up of Simonsberg greets us from the front of our house every clear day - we are truly blessed!!

In case I have given you cause to distrust me, check this out ...

Wintry Simonsberg seen from my porch!

I will leave this post, with its magnificent pic for you to ponder ... as I, as per usual, do not plan to post anything tomorrow - it being the seventh day. I enjoyed your feedback and readership and hope it will continue long hereafter ...

Be blessed until next time.

Change my company name?

My company name is presently Expectme Travel (Pty) Ltd. I want to change it to Expectme Leisure and Technology (Pty) Ltd. I figure that travel is largely a leisure activity and I want to develop certain technology innovations at certain travel venues. That is the reason for the proposed name-change.

I'd like the readership's collective opinion on the proposed name-change. Please use the voting buttons to indicate your preference:

Choices:

So there. I appreciate your views, whatever they may be and will probably act in concert with your vote.

Will let you know the outcome!!

Until next time, dudes and dudettes!

Short interlude to ... Austria

One of my most interesting travels involved Graz, in Austria. I was there for a workshop for one week!

It was the first time I rode on a tram. The image that follows is normal daily fare for Europeans but it was a wonder to me. We got rid of our trams many, many moons ago and they were not seen in these parts again! The only problem for me was trying to figure out the routes and stations - different from the metro and buses!

Graz is a most charming little Austrian town, of which the Schlossberg is the highest point and most outstanding feature. In the pic I'm at the Schlossberg overlooking the town ... we walked up the steep and winding road and my companion decided to rest by reading extensively from amply information signposts. We cleverly decided to save our knees punishment by taking the convenient funicular (view from the contraption also pictured) down.

Companion reading detailed signpost

IsurveytheTown

SteepViewfromtheNiftyKneeSavingDevice 

The Mur river runs through the town and there was a little restaurant and bar suspended on the river - seriously cute :-) Hopefully you can see this video. The pic does not do the water suspended restaurant justice!

Suspended restaurant on river Mur in Graz at night

DrinkingontheMur or in Afrikaans:" 'n Murse dop!"

Oh yes, and I travelled there and back by train through the Austrian countryside from Vienna.Seriously picturesque - I could almost hear Heidi singing since it is not that far from the Swiss Alps! I think I actually heard cattle bells clanking at certain points of the train trip! I wasn't dreaming ...

Prettyhighand mistyAustrianCountrysidefromMovingTrainWindow

If enough Capetonians read this blog, a common discussion phrase may soon change to:"Jou ma se rivier in Graz!" They tend to be innovative down here in the South!

The people in Graz, like in the smaller rural towns in other countries are more friendly and approachable than in the Cities like Vienna. Not that the Viennese are an unfriendly bunch, on the contrary, but the townspeople are simply overflowing with neighbourliness! Most of my friends in Vienna are squash players and I was happy to share some of our local squash expertise with the Viennese!! I went to another rather posh squash club where the little modesty I had was also shared with the Viennese of all persuasions at a sauna.

Luckily for my secretive modesty, the sharing was only of the looking kind! Not much to see here! move along!! move right along!!

I can say a ton more about Graz but I promised to keep the interlude short. In mzansi, this is short, ok? I also promise to come back to chatting about my time in Austria!

For the past 2 days, I hardly slept at night - made up for it in the morning though - because I was busy with our blog ... she's a more punishing taskmaster than the good wife!! and that's something to behold!!!

Wait a wee while!

The readership race

So far today the UAE is beating the USA ....

Cradle of Humankind ...

Hello all.

This is the 2nd installment of our Northern provinces trip at the beginning of 2014. The first was my previous Mpumalanga post.

As South Africans of the Southern Provinces, we tend to dismiss the allure of attractions of the inland provinces. I've been to the Augrabies Waterfall and wanted to see the Sterkfontein Caves. My good wife wanted to see the Cradle of Humankind. These two attractions are within spitting distance of one another and we combined the visit into a single trip. We left Kriel early morning and passed Johannesburg around 10:00. I had another argument with Garmin but the gadget beat me hands down in the Gauteng urban jungle, which made my daughter very happy and brought harmony to family relations once more.

This trip was undertaken after the Mpumalanga East adventure and, to my mind, it was a way to sooth James Manyi's conscience. We do step outside of the Western Cape to visit, work and play in other provinces. I was really interested to learn more about the Sterkfontein Caves and my good wife was just as enthusiastic about Maropeng. We first stopped off at the Caves and I went down alone after some serious warnings about claustrophobia in narrow passages. Warnings to people with weak backs kept my good wife above ground. And my daughter stayed with her.

I enjoyed the informative lecture by the archeology student that led the expedition especially the part about "Mrs Pless'" sex. There seems to be disagreement between earlier and later archeological theorists about the sex and age of the skull originally called "Mrs Ples". For my money, I am happy "M. or Madame Ples" was a human being and found in our neck of the woods = Mzansi.I was surprised by the other information about how long snakes can survive in the constant 18° Celsius. Snakes, like other small wild animals fall into the Sterkfontein caves through openings in the roof of the caves and because they cannot survive the temperature for long tend to die within 24 hours of falling in ... or so we were told! Me ... I am not enamoured with the slithery ones and remained alert for the ones that have not yet kicked the proverbial bucket! In the Cape Winelands, these spawn of Satan make themselves heard before spitting or striking at one. I had little knowledge of the behaviour of those in the Northern provinces, so I was extra careful where I put my size 9 wine-presses.

Here are some pics,some from the above-ground picture gallery at the Sterkfontein Caves.

The Good Wife begging me to return safely ... I had the money see

Cave Entrance

Clearly not San paintings

Getting cramped down there

Guide's tales ...

  The guide stood next to Dr Broome's bust and told us that< according to legend, if one touches his nose you will become lucky and if one touches his finger you will become rich. If was interesting to note who in our group of 11 people touched which part. I abstained because I'm not superstitious in that way.

My Good wife's entreaties (see first image above) were not in vain and I made it back safe and sound. 

We then went to Maropeng and bought tickets to enter the museum over there!

Some pics at Maropeng:

2WomeninMyLifeOutsideMaropeng

IceAgeDepictioninsideMaropeng

FireandSmokeDepictioninMaropeng

HumanDevelopmentDepictioninMaropeng

ImportanceofMaropeng

Arch'sFootPrintOutsidetheMuseum

Prez'sFootprintOutsideMuseum

The museum is well-appointed and well-run. I was very proud of the impression it made on visitors (myself included!).Our country can be proud of the way in which it exhibits our history.

Contrary to old wives' tales neither the Arch or the Prez' prints resembled bigfoot!!!

Keep up the good work at Maropeng!

It is a must-see for all outh Africans included and it is not very expensive. In fact, with the Rand's freefall, it is uber-cheap for tourists from countries with strong currencies!

I did not include this pic in the previous post where it belongs but I thought it necessary to prove that I got my holiday wish:

IgotMyWish

 .Until my next post! 

Mpumalanga, near the Kruger National Park

Hello Everybody,

Yesterday I posted the Pakistan trip, not the one I promised. Here is the one I promised albeit almost one day late. This is as a result of me not having access to the pics on my camera earlier (misplaced connection cable!). I trust you can forgive me.

The trip to Mpumalanga's Panorama Route was precipitated by a visit to us by our daughter over 2013 Christmas season. We then offered to share her car back to her workplace in the Mpumalanga highlands for two reason: It would help her share the driving and the good wife and I could have a cheap holiday in another part of our beautiful country.

Call us the family cheap but we had a great time ... One does not always have to spend lots of cash or credit to experience beautiful places.

First we shacked up at our daughter's place in Kriel. Kriel is situated in the energy producing belt of the Mpumalanga Highlands and has two Escom power stations, Kriel and Matla in close proximity. Our daughter is employed at Matla as resident civil engineer. This rural station is far removed from the glitz and glamour of Cape Town where she completed her studies but God's plan in our lives has a goodly purpose.

We planned to take her to the eastern part of the province in which she works - the lowveld near the Kruger National Park (KNP). The excellent N4 highway to Maputo runs through Nelspruit, and we planned to turn off from there to Hazyview (closest South African town to the Kruger National Park). I used the internet to book a place near Hazyview and we had no trouble getting there. Funnily enough my daughter also bought a Ford as her first car. Not a Beast, mind you, but the best selling small car model in the country, the Figo. So, with our daughter's permission, we used the Figo on our travels and she (the car, that is) behaved excellently!

First we had to find and book into a place that was off the beaten track and required the use of a dirt road to get there! This was not specifically mentioned on the website but the road there was passable and the directions easy. I found it even after a disagreement with my daughter's Garmin. You see, I look the route up on Google maps and memorised it so, when Garmin had other ideas, I insisted we switch the gadget off and depended on my memory. This last part did not enamour me to my daughter, a great fan of her #Garmin.

Long story short, Google Maps and my memory beat Garmin to a pulp and even my daughter had to acknowledge that. We found the most wonderful place hidden a few kilometres from Hazy View called Haus Kopatsch. The on-site owners provided genuine German hospitality, support, friendliness and cleanliness. It was the best choice I've made without copious amounts of background research. We were close to God's Window and the other sights of the Panorama Route and we had a swimming pool to ourselves to frolic in. We were also a few kilometres from the nearest Kruger National Park gate but that was not the object of our holiday. I only wanted to see the Blyde River Canyon - I've already been to the Masai Mara in Southern Kenya, so I had not need of the Big Five. I was not selfish because I clearly indicated my holiday objective before we started to my good wife and daughter and there were no additional requests or alternate suggestions.

The next day we decided to go to God's Window (so named because the view is said to be so breath-taking that God himself would sit there and admire his fantastic handiwork!!! I initially thought it was blasphemous to call a place that but I went up and saw it and nearly fell on my back. Here is a snippet, which unfortunately does not do the full view justice:

A view from the irreverently named "God's Window"

From God's Window we visited Bourke's Pot Luck and the Berlin Water Falls immediately after that. Nothing funny happened along the way but the views are worth seeing:

Bourke's Pot Luck

PrettyDaughter@ImpressiveBerlinFalls 

We also visited the much talked-about Pilgrim's Rest - one of the last gold mining outposts in the former Eastern Transvaal. One can do an actual gold panning expedition near the town but my family restricted my lust for finding great clumps of aluvial gold, so I never got a chance!

I insisted on going via the Long Tom Pass. The last place where the Boers positioned their artillery during the Anglo-Boer War (ABW not AWB!)

Add caption

 

Seeing the famous Long Tom cannon was one of my objectives along the Panorama Route and I was surprised to also find the highest beer micro brewery ("Hops Hollow") on the R37 between Sabie and Lydenburg near there ... the brewery was also a pub and a high-spec motel as can be seen from these pics:

A well-appointed bedroom at Hops Hollow

Beer hall at Hops Hollow

One finds these gems hidden all over our countryside but I was really surprised by the enterprise of the Mpumalanga people. Definitely a place to visit, even if one skips Kruger National Park (and I do not recommend you do that on purpose, simply that there is much else to amuse and interest one).

Obviously the fly-fishermen will ask about Dullstroom and, yes, we passed through this town as well, as you will see from the next pic.

OldTrancvaalInn@Dullstroom

Here I sign off and I hope you will find the post useful on your travels.

Keep travelling!
Ron

Some readership stats for the past week ...

Hi everyone,

Here are some of the latest weekly stats: #RSA used to run well ahead in week 1, now we lag the #USA by a long way... what's the issue? Glad to see Nigeria and Germany amongst the readership, unexpected I must admit. I expected views from Malaysia, Indonesia, Kenya and Algeria ... got none :-). That's what happens I suppose :-)

EntryPageviews

United States                       58

South Africa                        25

United Arab Emirates          8

Belgium                                 6

Germany                               3

Nigeria                                  2

Netherlands                         1

Keep safe and live healthily...

Ron

To Islamabad, Pakistan (پاکستان) for a conference

Hi everyone,

Yes, I visited Islamabad, Pakistan. Soon after the successful launch and in-orbit activation of the South African satellite, #Sumbandilasat, I was invited as a speaker to a small satellite conference at the Institute of Space Technology situated in Islamabad/Karachi.

Islamabad view from Margalla Hills

Once there I was exposed to the general nature of Pakistani people which I found very much the same as most others in the developing world i.e. interested technology development, focused on national developmental needs, generally honest, progressively oriented and feeling under threat from powerful nations (one neighbouring country in particular), hence community oriented.

I learnt of the important role the military played specifically in the Islamabad society. And how integrated communities seemed to be, practically everyone knowing everyone else's history.

As an aside, I was therefore very surprised at the 'discovery' of Osama bin Laden's compound in Abbottabad as reported in our press. In terms of the reference framework I picked up in Pakistan, even the Pakistani military could not hide a man as notorious as #OBL in the type of closeknit communities that existed in that part of Pakistan!

Islamabad is separated from Rawalpindi (or "Pindi" as the locals refer to it) by a single street and is seen as a dormitory city since nearly everyone, apart from shopkeepers and hoteliers, works in Islamabad. Although neither Jahangir (Karachi) nor Jansher(Peshawar) or Hashim Khan (near Peshawar) were born in Rawalpindi, the city acknowledged Jahangir by naming a street after him. The father of the Pakistani nuclear program, Abdul Qadeer Khan, as well as the famous Pakistani cricketer, Imran Khan, is reported to have houses on the banks of Lake Rawal, the main drinking water source for Islamabad and Pindi.

The other word commonly used during my time in Islamabad was "achar". Apparently. it means anything from "yes" to "all is well".

While in Islamabad, I had the privilege to spend time on a boat on Lake Rawal and was shown an impressive housing structure on its banks. Here is one my images of the lake ...

I enjoyed my time in Pakistan ... I felt safe and cared for even though we were accompanied by an armed guard  wherever we went. The conference was a success and I returned to South Africa after one week as I came, via #Dubai.

DubaiSat model at the ground station 

Dubai from Burj al Arab

I visited the Dubaisat satellite ground station, met with some Saudi representatives at the Burj al-Arab (built by South African company Murray and Roberts) and the South African embassador in Abu Dhabi while in the UAE. I then made my way back to Cape Town with an Emirates flight.
The funny part of my journey from Dubai to Cape Town was that, having spent a tiring week-plus away from home I, needed to rest on my flight back. I was booked in economy or 'cattle' class and and very carefully chose on of the bulkhead seats where I stretch my legs to my heart's content. At check-in, I carefully checked to see that my internet assigned seat was reflected on my boarding pass and it was! So far so good.

The next checkpoint was at the boarding gate and I was ready for a good verbal fight if anyone dared mess with my seating choice. At the boarding gate my heart sunk as the stewardess typed in my boarding pass and paused! She then excused herself to chaek something with a colleague while I was working up a good steam! I thought that this young lady did not know what she was in for if she returned with a different seat indeed. All my pent-up steam begged for release when she said: "I'm sorry ....." the rest of her words disappeared in a fog of steam and I was on the point of letting rip when I asked her to repeat her last words, which were: "I hope you do not mind but we had to move you to Business Class." I felt completely deflated and meekly thanked her.

Now in all my international travels (about 15 return flights) up to that point, I had never flown Business Class before because our company could never afford the expense. I was flabbergasted at my good fortune and hoped I would not make a fool of myself during the flight!!

Competition Eye Candy at Dubai International

 I was lucky enough to be seated next to a very fidgety gentleman, who tried every button and knob on his seat. This helped the monkey-see-monkey-do part of me in no small measure and I soon had the hang of the fully extendable seat.

While I was lounging in my business class seat, my former boss came to visit me from his economy class seat and remarked: "So this is how the other half lives!".

Suffice to say, my flight went by like a dream! ACHAR!! Or shall I say in a dream, since I woke up as we were about to land at OR Tanbo International. In those days the Cape Town bound flight to and from Dubai landed in Johannesburg before venturing further. The current route is non-stop and Emirates fly three different flights from Cape Town and Johannesburg directly to Dubai for most days of the week. Durban only has one such flight per week.

Taking SUNSAT model to Abuja, Nigeria ...

Hi faithful readers,

I like to make positive or at least funny remarks about people on my travels. I like to comment favourably on countries I travel in or to as well. My experiences are however are genuine and I refuse to hide or lie about them. I only name places and organisations for the sake of context and people I will seldom, if ever, refer to by name.

At this stage, United States of America readership for the week outstrips South Africa a factor of 2. Come-on locals! I know we are only less than 70 milllion souls in our country but that should not be an excuse. For now we are still ahead in the overall readership stakes but the #USA is catching up rapidly!

Before I tell of my flight from Cape Town to Abuja via #Johannesburg and #Lagos, allow me give a bit of background. We made the decision to attend a small #satellite conference in #Abuja and considered a request from the organisors to bring a model small satellite representing #SUNSAT with us.

After checking with export and clearing agents, it became clear that we needed two weeks more than we had at our disposal. Someone came up with the brilliant idea to dismantle the model, so we could take it as hold luggage on the airplane with us. At the time I enthusiastically supported the idea and we promised the organisers we'll bring the model.

When the day of departure arrived, we encountered our first problem at check-in for the flight to Johannesburg from Cape Town International!!

The dismantled model sections were too large to fit on the automatic baggage handling system and the baggage handlers refused to take the offending sections on-board. After a long discussion with the baggage handling supervisor centering on the risks of denting national pride if we were to arrive in Abuja without the model, the officials relented and accommodated our unusual baggage request. So we successfully passed the first stage of our journey.

At OR Tambo International airport, we received our luggage in good time and did not think that there would be further problems.

This opptimism evaporated when we tried to check in for the flight to Lagos, Nigeria.Again, size of the items were in question. I pointed out that the items travelled with us from CapeTown on a flight of the same carrier, so there should essentially not be further issues, but the baggage handlers became deaf! Same story as at Cape Town International - if the items do not fit on the automatic baggage loading system, they will not be allowed on-board!

Eventually, I found someone in the coomand chain who was willing to make a decision. The decision was: If I was willing to pay a few baggage handlers to physically move the offending pieces of luggage to the plane, the goods will be loaded. I was pointed to two baggage handlers and instructed to meet them in one of the corridors leading to the baggage section. I amoured myself with sufficient cash and, after informing my fellow travelers of the requirements, marched forth to meet the objects of obstruction and potential resolution. When I reached the two baggage handlers I found them well-informed of the problem and what was required in terms of resolution. I handed over ZAR 50 (the requested amount) to each and shook hands on the deal.

Back at the check-in, we handed the precious pieces of the model satellite to baggage handlers and carried on checking in. Our hope was nested in the baggage handlers' honesty and prayer because we had no other aussurance. The flight to Lagos was therefore rather nervy but we landed safely and waited for our luggage to arrive like others around us. I could see our luggage on the tarmac together with large pieces which I presumed to belong to other passengers.

My fellow travellers were getting impatient with non-arrival of our luggage and prompted me to facilitate the process. I noticed other passengers looking anxiously at luggage on the tarmac at Murtala Muhammad International. I was at a loss of how to proceed when I saw one of the 'anxious ones' speaking to a gentleman and handing him some cash. I immediately went over and asked the 'anxious one' about what she had done and was assured that, because our luggage was too large to fit on the automatic baggage system, it required a further cash injection to get to the luggage collection hall. When I wanted to know about guarantees of success, she simply shrugged her shoulders. I therefore waited to see the outcome of her brave action before approaching the same gentleman. When her trust was rewarded with the delivery of her outsized luggage to the hall, I had no hesitation to accost the same gentleman and striking a deal with him.

The deal involved getting our luggage to us and arranging a minibus taxi to take us and our luggage to our hotel in Lagos, pick-up by taxi the next morning and hassle-free loading of our outsize luggage onto a flight to Abuja (in those days local and international flights all departed from the same terminal). This cost me US$ 50 in total, which I thought was a good bargain.

So when the taxi driver wanted to negotiate further with us for the transport of our luggage, I just called the gentleman with whom I had a deal and, with a few words in one of the local languages between him and the taxi driver, we were on our way without further payment or hassles.

The night's rest in Lagos was peaceful and we were picked up on time by our taxi the next morning. Together with our precious luggage we checked in on a local flight to Abuja and our luggage was taken care of as per my US$ 50 agreement with the gentleman of the previous evening.

The flight to Abuja proceeded without incident and our luggage did not require further smoothing exercises to get to us, courtesy of the conference organisers whom we phoned the previous night to tell of our travails.

Thus we had a successful conference in Abuja and made the organisers proud when we assembled the #SUNSAT model in the conference exhibition hall. The conference organisers offered to arrange the return of the model by normal commercial transit and, with our experiences front of mind, we gladly accepted.

"All's well that ends well" as the saying goes and this post could easily have substituted the post on an eventful international flight   (http://expectmeagain.blogspot.com/2014/03/an-eventful-international-flight.html)
but it escaped my mind at the time and furthermore involved a mix of local and international flights.

The other reason that made me hesitate to post this incident was the possibility that it would add to the suspicion of bribery that is supposed to be endemic in the developing world. In my opinion however the incidents in this post explains only what happens when one expects people to go out of their way to accommodate requests for which their systems do not cater i.e. extra work and therefore extra payment. So, no bribery took place!!

In the next two posts I plan next to talk about our local road travels to the #PanoramaRoute in Eastern Mpumalanga province in the first month of 2014. I also would like to enlighten local and international readership about our (myself, my daughter and the good wife) visit to the Cradle of Humankind in #Gauteng province (Sterkfontein Caves and #Maropeng) around the same time. 

Taking the Beast to Durban ...

Hello again,

I had a look through our readership stats and found the United States catching up with South Africa, Belgium rapidly reeling in the UAE,  Germany and the Netherlands just keeping their noses ahead of Namibia and Nigeria :-). Thanks guys and do not forget to share what you  like with your mates. I also have no issue with people who do NOT like what I write - send me your comments, either on the blog or mail me on olivier.ron@gmail.com.

I've neglected the Beast for a while :-) and this post will correct my tardiness! For a first mention of the Beast, see http://expectmeagain.blogspot.com/2014/03/where-did-it-start.html.

In 1981, at the height of #apartheid, I decided to take the Beast from Stellenbosch to Durban. The occasion was me having enrolled for engineering studies at Natal Technikon and needing to get there.

I had a choice of routes: I could either go through the Bantustans (Ciskei and Transkei) or through what was legally the heart of apartheid provinces especially for people classified as Indian, the Orange Free State (OFS).

I spoke to many people in my research on what to expect on my trip through the Orange Free State. Most people warned me about provincial traffic #cops - how badly they treated people of colour, etc.

Now I was told that these were not Cape-sized traffic cops. According to the tales, the OFS variety were all 120kg plus (about 240 pounds), had ruby complexions, were thoroughly hairy, with fore-arms the size of my thighs, all carrying neck-muscle straining moustaches and spoke only in the language approved by General Koos de la Rey (Famous Boer General from the Anglo-Boer War).

I was also told that they did not like Rooinekke (meaning rednecks, which was a reference to the English, not hillbillies) and they were especially severe on coloured English-speakers! At night therefore my dreams were filled with encounters with these human behemoths! Bedtime was the least welcoming part in my daily cycle for quite a while! 

On the other end of the scale, people I spoke to were scathing about the condition of the roads through Ciskei and Transkei. I had great regard for the Beast and subjecting it to below par road surfaces became less appealing as time progressed.

My determination normally ramps up to the bigger of challenges so travelling the 1600 km through the OFS it was going to be !!!.  

I had never taken the Beast further than the 50-odd km to Cape Town or or 40+ km to Wellington from Stellenbosch, so clearly I was not the driving equivalent of a SMURF.

When I told people close to me of my decision to drive to Durban via the OFS I elicited expressions of incredulity followed by rather disparaging remarks. WTF, dude! was not trending in those far-off days but its equivalents were thrown at me or whispered behind my back as often as I took sugar in my sweet black coffee.

In those days, regular servicing was not the done thing in our poor communities and the Beast would have been uncomfortable to being subjected to all these 'strange' actions. I therefore had the Beast put through a minor service by the same mechanic that helped me drive it from Cape Town just after it was bought (

Know this!!! The more people call me stupid, the more likely it was that it would become a self-fulfilling prophecy - obviously within reason :-)

The day of departure came ... The Beast was ready ... And I had enough testosterone going to last me the whole journey ...

The drive from Stellenbosch was relatively uneventful until about 40 kilometres outside Bloemfontein, then capital of the OFS!

My left front wheel suddenly attempted to dislodge itself and I was stuck in the proverbial MIDDLE of the OFS! This took place around 2 o'clock in the afternoon and those days cellphones were simply not yet on the market!

Yep, the nightmares of being accosted by human behemoths suddenly entered my rather cheerful disposition and the sun fled my emotional landscape !!!!

Furthermore, I was a loss of what to do in the situation. I had no tools, little understanding of what exactly had gone wrong and 40 km was a long way to walk on a OFS highway.

There must be some Boer blood in me somewhere because my only impulse was to prepare a 'laager' (defensive position used by the early #Voortrekkers when under attack!) and hunker down for the night in the Beast and find a better solution the next day.

I leaned against the Beast while considering my chances of survival when all of a sudden a chap with a CY registration (that is Bellville, Western Cape, for all you #MAKWEREKWERE out there) stopped and offer his assistance. He was on his way to Bloemfontein and his family over there reportedly knew how to get a tow-truck to me.

Did I warn you that these were the dark days of apartheid??

This kind of help, offered across the racial divide, was never extended to me up until that time - oh I forgot to mention that the Bellville chap was classified white and I was not !!!

As a result of my sensitivity to the racial situation in our country, I did not put much coin in the promises of the chap from Bellville and proceeded to take stock of my provisions and kitting out the Beast for an off-road overnighter. I kept a beady eye on the road for the fabled OFS traffic cop but, for some strange reason, they clearly saw no profit in patrolling that stretch of roadway. I still harboured a secret hope of rescue though ;-).

At about 5 pm, just as I was finally giving in to my cynicism, a tow truck arrived from the direction of Bloemfontein.

God's provision is always on time - even when, as at that time with me, you were an atheist!

Now for the funny part ...

The tow truck driver was white and he could, by law, not tow the Beast, it being a coloured car. I tell you what: Had the Beast known it was a coloured car., it would have repaired itself right there and then!

My money was the right colour however and we waited until it was dark and then we towed the Beast to a Bloemfontein #Ford dealer. This dealer kept its workshop doors open after a radio request from the tow-truck operator. A quick inspection by the mechanic on duty and it became clear that the Beast chewed through its wheel bearings (which has not been maintained for many moons!). The Beast would have to wait until the next day for repairs.

The second apartheid comedy struck.

I knew no-one in Bloemfontein and the white  mechanic only knew a white taxi service and ... you guessed it! ... the white taxi service were not allowed to transport a coloured person! He phoned this service and surprisingly the taxi service was happy to transport me to what was called an "International Hotel" for a little extra fee.

Luckily for me, Bloemfontein got its first "International Hotel" a few weeks before as a result of embarrassment to the South African government when foreign black VIPs had no decent place to stay!!! The government then also had to let "local" local blacks stay in these former "white" establishments.

After an uneventful night - no dreams of OFS traffic cops :-), the Beast and I were on the road to Durban at about 11am the next day.

It proved to me that the OFS was not a bad place after all. Its people understood the value of money even in the dark days of apartheid.

The greatest blessing God bestowed on me during this incident ?

I WAS NEVER CONFRONTED BY THE HUMAN BEHEMOTH!

Luckily things have changed for better in our country post-apartheid but the helpful and accommodating tendencies of Free State (the "Orange" was dropped after the end of apartheid) people have not changed much.

The Beast and I had great times in Durban but I lost all my pics when we moved house, sorry.

Next time I will be on my way to Abuja (the federal capital of Nigeria) with the model of a small satellite.

Nearly forgot!!

My good wife (and part-time censor! or editor) indicated I should tell you what the term "MaKwerekwere" means!  It is township slang for foreigners.

Salani kahle, y'all!