Dɛn dɔn pablish am: 30.09.2019
The wait is finally over. The journey begins with my sister Franzi to Madagascar and Reunion :)
With our African detour, I am fulfilling a long-awaited dream.
At 00:30 am, with only a little sleep, we start to Stuttgart, from there it will continue by plane to Paris and then on to Antananarivo. After successfully parking the car and reaching the airport, it's time to drop off our luggage and the journey can begin.
However, there is already the first surprise at the baggage drop off. The lady at the counter tells us that oversized luggage must be dropped off in a different area.
Oversized luggage? Seriously? Since when is a backpack weighing 17 kg considered oversized luggage?
Well, that's easier said than done. Transporting a backpack becomes quite complex when it is already ready for the flight (all buckles closed, straps tightened, etc.), because then it means bicep training at 4 am.
After we have managed that, we can now spend an hour intensely dealing with the security check, until we fly to our first stop, Paris, shortly after six o'clock as scheduled.
Paris, as beautiful as you are, your airport absolutely is not!
Getting coffee or something to eat at 08:30 am is more difficult than expected. And if you think you'd rather go outside for a smoke, well, that's also difficult. The first designated smoking area cannot be found. There is a second one, but the cabin with its dimensions of 2.5m x 1m does not provide much space or fresh air.
So here, the motto is more like: go inside, breathe in, done with smoking, quickly go back outside.
09:30 am
After we struggled to get something to eat from the chilled counter of a kiosk, we are shortly afterwards asked to board. Well, I have experienced that in a more structured way before. With a plane with 600 seats, good organization would certainly shorten the boarding process to just under an hour.
11:30 am
After we were supposed to take off at 10:40 am, we are now slowly taking off with a delay of almost one hour.
9:10 pm
After almost ten hours, we are almost there. In 20 minutes, we will land at our layover. I can only hope that's true. It's been three years since my last long-haul flight, and I can feel again how exhausting it is. Every part of my body is in pain and longing for movement. However, the initial lack of food in the morning has turned into a little feast. The obligatory two bottles of wine at least led to a few naps. Now we are looking forward to finally checking into our hotel after over 20 hours of travel. So that we can board the next plane well-rested tomorrow.
10:30 pm
We have made it to land, now it's time to go through customs and to the hotel. Well, it's not that easy unfortunately. Even before entering the really tiny airport (without WLAN), the approximately 600 arriving passengers have their temperature taken. Then we go through the various visa stations and after an hour, we have made it and have obtained the first stamp in our passports. Equipped with our luggage, we go to the airport exit. We are greeted by a crowd of Madagascans (that's what the residents are called here) who are waving their signs wildly.
We had actually written to our hotel and asked if they would pick us up, but due to the lack of WLAN, we unfortunately cannot check whether we have received a response.
So we have to push forward.
We try to find our way through all the signs and look for a sign with our name. Unfortunately, unsuccessful. As soon as we are out of the crowd, all the locals come up to us asking 'Taxi? Hotel?' We accept one offer, until just before we get in, we realize that we don't have any cash with us yet. So we call our driver back, and unfortunately, we have to go back to the airport. While I am waiting at the ATM, Franzi tries to negotiate the price for our ride to the hotel, which takes a whole 5 minutes.
Our driver remains firm at his price of 30,000 (equivalent to over 7 Euros). After both of us are simply tired and exhausted, we finally agree. The car has definitely seen better days, and our driver's assistant sees an opportunity to grab some money. He helps with loading the luggage and demands 5€ for it. Well, let's just say that he had to realize that his help was not worth 5€ to us. While our driver validates the parking ticket, Franzi and I sit in the car. I look at her and ask: 'What do we do if he takes us somewhere else?' Honestly, we can't think of a possible way out in this moment, without a network, with heavy luggage, and in the middle of Africa, we would not have many options.
But everything goes well, our driver brings us safely to our hotel, where we are already expected. The hotel driver had been searching for us at the airport in vain. With a considerably guilty conscience, we check in.
The hotel is cute and doesn't give away that the roads in front of the house don't deserve the name road. They are more like sandy paths, wide enough for two small cars to pass each other. But in the darkness, we couldn't see much more.
Happily having a bed, we both fall asleep, exhausted.