A little while longer ...

Hi all,

I'm going to refrain from enthralling you with my driver's licence experience just this once ... can you feel the anticipation building?

Today, after my first trip from Stellenbosch to Newlands, Cape Town, on my newly acquired Moto Mia Milano scooter, my mind unexpectedly wandered to my first flight.

There be a pretender on my throne!

No, not that kind of flight, chaps! 

I did not run from my future father in law after impregnating my childhood sweetheart (although not for lack of trying on my part) - I'm not saying more on that subject no matter how much my readers beg. Let me just say it's less Mills and Boon than plain political incompetence.

Nor did I join MK and made my way to Gaberone. I learnt early on that the SB (Security Branch not Stinking Boers) spent immense amounts of time practising with such a variety of firearms it would make poor Oscar feel inadequate. I also knew that training requires in situ application and, call me cowardly, but I was rather unwilling to personify "in situ".

Oh yes, the flight! 

I suffer from acrophobia. Yep, I'm smart enough to have a fear with a scientific name. I found out about this extreme condition when, as a child, I was continually required by the bigger kids to get the ball from the neighbour's roof. This condition served me well in other situations, like trying to explain why I never became the Chairman of a company, etc. 

So, walking up the rickety aircraft boarding stairs was terrible - those years people still pushed the silly contraption into place. These people normally left a gap to the aircraft door big enough for acrophobes like me to see exactly how far we are likely to fall. So I stood aside for other passengers to bridge this rather massive gap first as a way to show (my immense decency, I think!). It was only when an elderly tannie (we had to call them "Miesies" in those days) bridged this eternal divide with olympian ease, that I decided I've shown enough decency to take the plunge. Let it be known that when I was eventually persuaded by the cabin staff to open my eyes, I was on my way to my seat on this beautiful SAA Boeing. I was strapped into my seat by a kindly stewardess, who treated me with all the tenderness normally reserved for more intimate moments. All I could think about during these tender ministrations and husky words of assurance, was the electric chair. I realised with a start that in our country hanging was the preferred judicial way, in the words of one of our infamous politicians, to 'permanently remove' people from society. 

Strangely, this macabre thought relaxed me immensely as we taxied down the runway of what was then known DF Malan Airport on our way to Louis Botha Airport. Our younger blog readers can Google the names to figure out where I was going. All I remembered from the flight was that no matter how hard I kept my eyes closed, I could not drown out the piercing voice that kept telling us that we were 30,000 feet in the air - I really needed to know that in my condition!

The next thing, after some thudding and bumping, was an entreaty for all passengers to disembark through the front exit. Before I could rail at someone for calling me a passenger - I've been called 'hotnot' and other such colourful (pun intended, yeah) desciptive terms but 'passenger' - dammit I tried my best to work for what I get - PASSENGER hummph! Others did not seem to mind though, so I followed the herd out the door and I stopped dead! 

It was winter in Cape Town at the time and, having never before been in a subtropical clime, I was not prepared for the blast of hot humid air that physically attacked me. 

Even today, it takes me short  while to get used to Durban weather but after living there for nearly 15 years, it feels like home as well. Although at the time it took me a long while to acclimatise to Durban's weather, God kept me alive to visit me upon you with this blog.

All this gaff about FOND memories are, in many cases, over-hyped, so be it with my first flight!

I really promise to go the driver's licence next, DV ... sleep well!