Tomorrow

Tomorrow morning, we plan to be landing in Manchester airport. Exchanging the blue skies of Africa for the overcast skies and colder climes of north-west England!

Our journey entails 3 aeroplanes:
Juba to Nairobi
Nairobi to  London
London to Manchester.
Then either a taxi or train journey of 2 trains, with 3 tired children, suitcases galore and 2 frazzled parents!

This time, we fly only on large, commercial airlines: we will not be travelling on the small MAF plane to Nairobi- much to my relief! Last time our MAF flight from Juba to Nairobi was rather memorable- for all the wrong reasons.
It was in March, when we flew Juba-Nairobi for our R and R. I left the MAF compound at 7am with children, but Andrew had gone on ahead with the staff team. Andrew was our pilot that day and needed to pre-flight the plane. I would not see him until we boarded our MAF flight.

Once I got the airport with Esther, Ben and Joel, we were overwhelmed with the utter chaos at the airport! The machines for scanning luggage had broken down. This seemed to be causing untold problems for passengers and staff. Crowds of people with suitcases surged forward to try and push their luggage through to the area where their bags could be loaded ready for the flights, while desperate staff members tried to process and check the suitcases by hand. This created a back-log which translated into a sweaty mass of humanity, squashed into the small room which is Juba Airport Departures.

Trying to manoeuvre 3 small children and our bags through that heaving, pushing crowd was a miserable experience. By 7:30am, I was soaked through with sweat as I was shoved first one way and then another by anxious co-passengers, all of whom were also glistening with sweat. It trickled unchecked down our cheeks and dripped onto our bags. It seemed that the idea of forming any sort of a queue had occurred to no-one. It was each man for himself as we all tried to work our way through the mass of bodies to present our passports for inspection and proceed to the small door where we could be admitted to the actual Departure Lounge. Some people appeared at my side with suitcases held aloft over their heads as they made their slow, forceful way through the tide of stressed passengers. Tall Sudanese surrounded us on all sides. I felt dwarfed by their height and overwhelmed by the pressure to push through and force our way out of the messy situation.

No-one acknowledged that I had small children with me. I hoisted Joel onto my spare hip, balancing my luggage on the other side of my body. I instructed Esther and Ben to hold on tight to the straps of my back-pack, so that they would not get swept away by the surging crowd, Esther leaned forward and shouted over the din of voices, "Mum! I can't breathe!" Being much shorter than most of the crowd, the children had very little space to catch their breath as the room got more and more stuffy. More and more passengers pushed in from behind us as the crowd kept growing. I felt almost hoarse from the effort at shouting into the ears of shoving co-passengers, "Please do NOT squash the children! Please look out for the children!"

After that ordeal, the journey did not really improve, It was around 5 hours flight from Juba to Nairobi, with 3 stops en-route to pick up and drop off other passengers, During that time-frame, poor little Joel, who was sharing a double seat with me, was sick EIGHT TIMES. After the first time, I used up all my tissues to clean him.
After the second time, I used up his spare outfit.
After the 3rd time, I used up the spare clothes in my bag for Esther and Ben.
After the 4th time, I gave up. There was nothing more to use. We sat surrounded by dried and drying and fresh vomit, little puddles forming at the back of the seat, the smell clinging to us both.
After the fifth time, I joined in with Joel and started being sick myself!
I arrived in Nairobi with a little collection of sealed, bulging air-sickness bags, filthy clothes and a splitting headache. Then just to top it all off, Joel was sick once more in the car on the way from the airport to the house!
What a horrible day.
I had a word with the pilot, but he claimed no responsibility for the bumpy weather which caused such a turbulent, upsetting flight...!!

Hopefully, our 3 flights today and tomorrow morning will not be so turbulent and not cause any upset! It seems the larger the plane, the smoother the ride. Joel and I had never been air-sick before travelling on small MAF aircraft. I'm not sure what kind of a MAF pilot's wife that makes me??

Last night a friend asked us what we are most looking forward to for our time in England.
Esther said, "Ice-cream!" (we can't get it in Juba)

Ben said, "Spending pocket money!" (he has been earning English-currency pocket-money, as there is not much in Juba that children can buy)

Joel is not sure. England is a strange, far-away land that he has only the vaguest notion of.

For Andrew, it is being able to buy new ear cushions for his pilot head-set, as his current ones are disintegrating -and maybe also some chocolate :).

For me, it is definitely chocolate! And having Grandparents nearby who are happy to babysit! The opportunity to rest completely and let grandparents have fun with their grandchildren is a heady, glittering prospect after all the demands of home-school!

On the "Most-Looking-Forward-To" list for our tine in England, I could also add...
ice-cream
fresh milk (no powdered milk for a while!!)
green grapes
variety of breakfast cereals
variety of bread
bacon
mushrooms (it's funny what you miss when you live here!!)
variety of meat
drinking water straight from a kitchen tap
Oh, and did I mention chocolate? (!!).

So here we come... the bags are packed, the passports and yellow-fever certificates are ready, the tickets are prepared and friends will give us a lift to Juba airport in a couple of hours. This time tomorrow, all that chocolate should be within easy reach...!!