Our Journey to Mozambique

The trip from Idaho to Africa, especially Mozambique, is a long one.  Gorongosa National Park is remote.  We knew that.  We planned.  My husband and I both had inflatable neck pillows and back pillows.  I had made a special trip to Barnes & Noble to buy books.  We had ear plugs and ear phones.  There was a Ziploc bag full of snacks.  My husband had bought me compression socks.  What else could we possibly need?

The flight from Boise to Salt Lake City went smoothly.  It went downhill from there.  First, we learned our flight would be delayed.  We finally boarded and pulled away from the gate.  Yay!  While we were out on the tarmac we learned there was a maintenance problem.  So we waited.  And waited.  The crew brought us water and snacks.  After 3 hours of sitting on the plane, we returned to the gate and deplaned.  We were issued new boarding passes and a meal voucher.  The departure time was pushed back again.  And again.  Then suddenly the flight was cancelled.  We were rescheduled and would have arrived 2 days later.  That wouldn’t work so we all scrambled to rebook.  We had to find our own hotel rooms; someone in our group did this for all of us.

After a good night’s sleep we returned to the airport and boarded a plane to Seattle.  We boarded our next flight a bit late but we were relieved to finally be on our way to Amsterdam—one day late.

We were in a wide body jet so there were three seats abreast on each side of the plane and four seats in the middle.  As usual, we got an “Enjoy your flight” from the flight crew.  Really?  I wonder why they say this.  It’s more like “endure your flight.”  For this international flight we got a bit more room, but not much.  We were packed in like sardines, elbow to elbow (which made using the little plastic knife to cut up our food rather interesting).  And for all the friends who told me I should walk up and down the aisles—clearly you haven’t been on a plane recently.  I tried this.  The restrooms usually have lines so you have to squeeze around these people and at one point I found myself in a galley.  The aisles are so narrow that you have to almost walk sideways at times, dodging knees, feet, and stray pillows.  It just doesn’t work. 

After 10-11 hours we arrived in Amsterdam.  We had time to find our next gate, use the restroom, and stand a bit.  And that’s about it.  The next flight was with KLM (Dutch airline) so we joined the long line for boarding.  Soon we were on our way to Johannesburg—another 11 hour flight.  This one was harder for me.  I couldn’t get comfortable.  I read a little.  I watched a movie which is what most people did.  I tried to sleep.  I ate what they put in front of me.  (The food was fairly good, actually).  We landed around 9:30 p.m. local time but my body had no sense of what time it was.  The airport was nearly deserted.  I was tired and ready for bed.  We waited for our baggage.  And waited.  It didn’t come.  It turns out our bags (mine and my husband’s) were still in Amsterdam along with the bag I checked with shoes for kids plus two bags of shoes another couple was carrying.  They couldn’t get them to Johannesburg until the next evening.  Great.  Our plane to Mozambique was leaving in the morning.  We were met by a local guide who got us to our hotel.  We were tired and grubby with no clean clothes.  We got to our room and the bed had a feather comforter and feather pillows, even though we had requested a feather free room.  (I’m allergic to feathers.)  We called the front desk.  And waited.  We called again.  Housekeeping had gone home and they were looking.  A young man showed up at our door with one pillow, all they could find.  Sigh.  I asked for a blanket to replace the feather comforter then waited again.  Finally we got the blanket and we could sleep.  It was after midnight.

We headed to the airport mid-morning after a breakfast buffet.  Our local guide took us to Woolworth’s so Bob and I could buy underwear, socks, and a couple shirts.  The women’s shirts were all long-sleeved.  It’s winter in Africa (although not really cold).  We were all directed to check in and security and before long we were on a small plane to Beira, Mozambique.  Following an hour flight we made our way through a tiny airport, passports/visas in hand, and met the pilots for our next flight.  Our group of 19 climbed on board two bush planes for the last leg of our trip to Gorongosa National Park.  My husband, a former private pilot, sat in the right seat next to the pilot.  After about a 30 minute flight we landed on a small strip in the park.  We were so glad to finally be there and receive the warm welcome from the staff.  We had left home on Thursday morning and arrived on Sunday afternoon.

Our bags?  They didn’t arrive until Tuesday afternoon.  We were so relieved to see them!  However, our two bags were the only ones that arrived.  The whereabouts of the three bags of shoes was unknown at that time.