I am just a little intrigued and tickled by just how the recent 12 days have evolved.
I fear I could get bogged down in much detail as I journal this, but because time isn’t on my side to allow me to elaborate, and since it probably won’t excite too many of you much, I’ll try my best to précis it. So here goes.
22 February to 3 March: Oran, Algeria
Contrary to many colleagues and friends – and needles to say, my – gut feel, this little business excursion into the “frontline of politically turbulent North Africa” turned out to be a most peaceful and productive time amidst the turmoil in the Region. Access into and out of that country was, for me, maybe the easiest it’s ever been in my 3 previous visits there. There was not even a hint of any security instability, although I won’t deny that the hot topic on most people’s lips was the ongoing chaos and inhumane treatment of neighbouring Libya’s citizens and the knock-on effects in Tunisia due to fleeing immigrants. The TV news was plastered with blow-by-blow updates of Algeria’s unstable neighbours whilst she, herself, was quite unaffected (on the surface).
As a result the job that I and my colleagues had to perform whilst there was made significantly more productive and less hindered. We no longer abided by the tight curfew times we’d set ourselves. And, in fact, due to the work time pressures we operated at the other extreme, only leaving Site at 2.30am on the first night, 11.30pm on the second night, and thereafter, for the subsequent 4 nights, left no earlier than 9pm. So we worked ourselves to a standstill, quite literally. I picked up a hectic bout of flu on my second day there and spent the rest of the week nursing not only symptoms of body ache, running nose, aching joins, and stiffness, but also a deep sense of self-pity! So by the end of the week I’d decided to stop being selfish and ended up generously sharing my germs with my 2 travelling colleagues as well as our one driver. How selfless was that of me!
Anyway, we had a surprisingly productive and successful week in Algeria and I returned home via France, almost a year to the day, on 3rd March feeling quite relieved that all our hard work had paid off. The Team there have turned the place around – physically and morale – so that was a huge treat to see and participate in.
3 to 6 March: Kwa Zulu-Natal, South Africa
I landed back in Durban on afternoon of Thursday 3rd March, arriving back into sweltering and humid Durban summer heat after enjoying mild Algerian winter days and chilly evenings.
On Friday I found myself repacking bags and heading out to the Drakensberg for my 40th birthday weekend celebrations.
By late 2010 I had already run out of enthusiasm to celebrate with any hype for my birthday. There was NO chance I was going to make any effort to pull something together for myself (a little presumptuous to think people would want to celebrate, really!). And as things turned out, I ended up having to find time in a brewing crazy travel schedule to even try to be home for that weekend, let alone plan anything. So in hindsight I was hugely grateful that my good mate, Clive, took me by the shoulders asked what I wanted to do for my birthday, didn’t take no for an answer, and ended up booking us 2 chalets at my favourite “retreat” in the Drakensberg at Injesuthi. I abdicated from all planning and determined in myself that I was just going to arrive. And I pretty much did that. Well, almost …
The weekend ended up being only Clive, his 7-month pregnant wife, Gen, and their 16 month old son Luke, and my other good friends, Gert and Annelize. I couldn’t have handled too much more than that.
Friday saw me wake exhausted, after still taking some medication to ward off my flu, whilst also battling certain sleep deprivation. Enthusiasm for life had all but drained out of numerous holes that have recently developed in my “armour”, so the weekend was hoping to be temporary respite and recovery time. By 2pm on Friday afternoon I’d picked Gen and Luke up, having offered to give them a lift to the Berg since Clive was only able to get away from the office later that afternoon and so I had hoped to get Gen and Luke to the campsite way before sunset so Luke could be settled and in bed at a reasonable hour. Gert and Annelize were going to be following us out, followed by Clive. I had a good 90minute head start on them all and I was on track to get us to the Berg by 4.30pm, assuming Luke didn’t dictate different time lines and mandatory stops.
I should know now that it’s important to pay attention to red warning lights on one’s car dashboard, even if one doesn’t know completely what they mean. But I had a destination to reach come hell-or-high-water, AND I had a pregnant Mom and weary son as passengers that I just wanted to get to the campsite and have them settled and comfortable. Hmmm… noble intent, bad decision.
I’ve since learn that the little red glowing battery light means that one should act soon. I discovered that 14.7km from our destination, at a point where cell phone signal was at its limits, the road was about to deteriorate into pot-hole and corrugated disbandonment, and help was not fast in coming. So on a little rise in the road my car suddenly came to an abrupt powerless stop. She remained idling, but had no ability to move forward and could only roll backwards. Like a catastrophically damaged human body that tries to stay alive by keeping only vital organs and bodily function running by shutting down non-essential organs, my little Audi started systematically forcing me to disengage non-essential stuff; first the radio then the air con, then the fan, then the electric windows then the power steering and finally just forward momentum. And there we sat. 14.7km from Injesuthi, in VERY rural KZN, 90 minutes from sunset with no sign of other cars and not just a few passers by heading on their merry way ahead of Friday night parties or social gatherings. It was a little unnerving to day the least. I was irritated with myself and may car. And not just a little distraught. Gen remained her composure and continued to pacify Luke who, despite having started playing up and whining 80km earlier on, was now strangely calm and passive and maybe even a little entertained by the unfolding saga. I didn’t think that would last long and I was NOT keen for pregnant Gen and little Luke to now be stuck with me in far-flung rural KZN! Not on my watch!! But this was now too late to wish for.
And then something of an Angel came along called Bheki. And as it turned out Bheki worked for KZN Wildlife and was returning from Injesuthi to Monks Cowl (in another part of the Berg). Whilst I was on the phone to the AA trying to explain – with NO success – what my location was, I also managed to negotiate with Bheki to take pity on us and tow us with his KZN Wildlife Toyota Hilux 4x4 to Injesuthi. He graciously obliged, despite clearly being on a mission to head home fort eh weekend himself. I managed to dig my unused tow rope out of my heavily laden boot, hooked my car to Bheki’s 4x4, and off we went at a relative snail’s pace. Within 2km of my breakdown point I’d already driven over the tow rope twice and shredded it irreparably. By now I was stuck on a serious – and I mean SERIOUS – incline practically in the middle of the road. Bhekis 4x4 was clearly taking strain, but he willingly dashed off into the neighbouring area and returned with a REAL tow rope. He lashed my car to his and off we went again, at sub-snails pace just so we could summit the 1.5km (I estimate) hill. We made it to the top. And then that’s where the tar ran out. And then it was gravel and rocks. For the next 12km we charged along, as Bheki gained towing confidence whilst the tow rope got shorter after I rode over and snapped his newly acquired rope yet another 2 times!! I was a little concerned about the sulphurous odour that seemed to be in the air, but I thought nothing more of it. I just kept my hands firmly gripped to the heavy steering wheel trying to steer my powerless car whilst periodically having to stand on my powerless brakes to keep from slipping off the road or ramming into Bheki’s tow hitch. Gen, on the other hand, was remarkably calm and tried starting to sing “The wheels on the bus go round and round” and “Ba-ba black sheep” for the 37th time in as many minutes to keep Luke’s growing discontent from erupting into a full crying match (understandably so; this was no longer fun for any of us!! Adventurous, maybe; Fun, NOT!!) I then wondered why Bheki was running his windscreen wipers at a super-fast rate. That did seem quite unnecessary. It was probably 1,500m from the campsite, as the sun was sinking below the imposing mountains surrounding Injesuthi, that Bheki ground his 4x4 to an abrupt halt and all I could see was smoke pouring from his dashboard. By this time, Gert & Annelize who had set off from Durban maybe 1 hour after me, and Clive who had left 2 hours after us, had caught up to us and had pulled up right be hind me. As I launched out of my car I found Bheki tearing at his car radio frantically trying to pull it out of its casing whilst acrid sulphurous smoke continued to bleed out of the dashboard. As it turned out Bheki had sacrificed his – ok, KNZ Wildlife’s! – 4x4 to tow me to my destination and now he was without wheels. His car had developed some electrical fault of its own that had been sparked by the radio spontaneously combusting and this had clearly also set the windscreen wipers on a mission of their own every time he tried to accelerate!! At this point Clive – who had broken the sound barrier to come and save his wife & child from the dangers of rural KZN and my Audi’s ineptitude to reach a simple off-road destination – volunteered to tow me to the campsite whilst Bheki did a u-turn in his 4x4 and limped past us in an attempt to return to Monk’s Cowl. Since there was no cell phone signal in the area I was never able to follow up on where Bheki made it to that night, but hopefully the little bit of cash I gave him either saw him manage to disband his 4x4 and catch a taxi home, or enabled him to drink away his sorrows at having to save some white dude and a pregnant lady and baby from the wilds of rural KZN so they could be joined by the rest of their mates for a birthday weekend in relative comfort! THANK YOU BHEKI!!
We rolled into camp and found our chalets by 19h00 on Friday night. All I could do was laugh and hope that by the end of the weekend we could come up with a plan to disband my car legally in the KZN Conservation area, or get it repaired, or somehow drive it out of my favourite part of rural heaven. But I wasn’t going to let this ruin a perfectly good weekend. Hell, after all I’d just survived 8 days in Algeria. Why should by car’s turning on me and assaulting me in the company of my friends put me on the back foot?
Needless to say the rest of the weekend – or Saturday the 5th March – my official 40th birthday, was just idyllic. I slept in. I was treated to coffee & rusks in bed to the now-all-too-familiar tunes of “Ba-Ba Black sheep” (sick joke!). We had a massive slap-up breakfast together before embarking on a walk up van Heyningen’s Pass – always a winner. But NOT ideal when one’s recovering from chest phlegm build up and flu, is on antibiotics, is a little unfit AND is struggling with the altitude. But I maintained my composure and dignity; after all, being 40 had nothing to do with my current condition. Surely? Gert & Annelize – Duracell Machines of note!! – took the lead in our walk. Clive, with Luke strapped to his back and mediocre touches of sunscreen applied to his face made gallant strides to keep up. And I just concentrated on breathing – or rather minimising my heaving!! Gen, the only wise one amongst our party, elected to have a quiet morning “home”.
I must say that I did head out on our walk with renewed confidence that all might turn out well with the world. Gert – my technical hero and local MacGyver – had made acquaintance with Robert, the campsites maintenance man. It turned out Robert had a car battery charger in his shed. So after our breakfast and before our walk Clive had towed my to within spitting distance of Robert’s shed, Gert had effortlessly removed my battery, and this was now soaking up renewed energy from the local generator. I was strangely recharged myself. But it didn’t last long. The walk sucked me dry. But ego constrained me to push through and finally Gert (MacGyver), Annelize (Duracell Bunny) and I (sloth) made it to the summit which ALWAYS offers a view that’s a delight to behold. We’d lost Clive along the way – about 90mins into our walk – as he realised Luke’s contentedness levels weren’t going to hold out and Ba-Ba Black sheep and The Wheels on the Bus” just weren’t going to cut it out on the trail; not after their soothing capabilities had been stretched to the limit by Gen the evening before in the car!! So Clive gallantly returned home allowing MacGyver, Duracell Bunny & I to summit 30 minutes later. It was just GREAT. Check out Face Book for some of the photos.
Anyway, we 3 returned to camp by 3pm somewhat broken by the mountain but satisfied by the challenge.
Our evening was spent recovering, sharing stories, eating copious amounts of braai meat, pap and salad, and nursing a 2005 bottle of Rubicon Merlot that I’d been given as a gift last year. I won’t claim that we stopped when that bottle was over. But playing Uno and laughing a lot did make the rest of the evening merge into a satisfying and happy memory with special friends on a special occasion. Closing the night off with some philosophical life-discussions under a start-flooded sky with some cigars was just perfect!
And then the day of reckoning dawned. Sunday 6th March. They day of “rescue” or “abandon”. Was I going to get my little Audi out of them mountains or was I going to have to abandon her to the elements. I was believing for the former but preparing for the latter! After another slap-up breakfast we loaded our vehicles with all our baggage – appearing to have hardly made a dent in our weekend’s food reserves. I distributed my worldly goods between the other 2 cars attempting to leave my baby as light as possible and, if she broke down en route home, not having to worry too much about transferring the contents to the other 2 cars driving in convoy back to Durban with me. I started my car up at 10h20 on Sunday morning and gunned it out of there. As long as there was life in that battery I had to make mileage, cover ground, and do it with NO hesitation. I paid little attention to the sound of rocks ripping at my car’s undercarriage and the potholes that wanted to swallow us up. I made the fateful 14.7km journey back to where we’d broken down on the Friday night and then made it the 30km back to the main road. And then the further 30km back to the N3 at Estcourt. There had been a few moments when it felt like she was going to skip a beat. But I remained in denial. All power-draw equipment was off. I was driving with windows down, even cautious to use my indicators. I was going to save as much power as I could. I gunned it down the N3 towards Durban, passing Clive’s folks home at Curry’s Post where I was planning on making for and leaving my car in case she was flailing at that point. Since she was showing no signs of shutting down – aside from that tell-tale red glowing battery light on my dashboard – so I pressed on with resolute determination that we were going to make it home. Besides I (and Annelize, the Duracell Bunny) had a plane to catch from Durban later that afternoon, so the stakes for success in getting home were high!!
Well, long story short I pulled in to my drive way in Durban 45mins ahead of the other two cars (I’m SURE I didn’t break the speed limit!!!) without my battery having crippled me. That was 1pm on Sunday afternoon. By 3pm Gert and Annelize were at my front door to pick me up and take us to the airport. By 5pm Annelize and I were on a flight to Johannesburg with 6 other Unilever R&D colleagues, all of us bound for Istanbul, Turkey later that night.
By 7.30pm the 8 of us merry-makers were crammed into Business Class on our Turkish Airlines flight to Istanbul which took off at 8pm.
By 8.20pm we were circling Pretoria dumping fuel in preparation for returning to Johannesburg Airport because of a faulty landing gear on our plane!
2hours and 20 minutes later we were able to make our final approach for Johannesburg airport where we landed amidst a blaze of emergency vehicles. All passengers were instructed to deplane with our hand luggage, return to the terminal building, and await further instruction.
By 11pm the Unilever contingent had found our way to a Business lounge to scrounge some food – there’s NOT much happening at Johannesburg Airport at that hour on a Sunday night!! – and still remaining amazingly high-and fun-spirited.
By midnight we were instructed that the crew were no longer cleared to fly for safety and time-awake reasons so our flight was now delayed indefinitely.
By 2am the Business Class passengers were being checked into the Intercontinental Hotel adjacent to the airport – the Economy Class guys were ferried to another nearby hotel.
And by 2.30am I’d switched my light out.
And so began my 41st Year!!
7th March: Johannesburg to Istanbul
By Monday morning we were all back at the check-in counter at 09h30 to be informed that our flight was further delayed from a 11h00 departure to a 1pm departure.
By Monday 1pm we were winging our way out of Johannesburg and heading for Istanbul, Turkey, where I will be for the coming 2 weeks if all goes according to plan. But right now the plan doesn’t seem to smooth if the past 2 weeks are anything to go by. But hey, life with a bit of adventure isn’t too bad.
So as I write this we are 45mins from landing at Ataturk Airport in Istanbul. Apparently it’s 5°C and raining at our destination. We will be staying at a stunning hotel on the Bosphorus on the European side of the City for the coming 3 nights before I then join another team for 2 nights away elsewhere. I then have the weekend to recover – well, Sunday at least, seeing as our workshop ends on Saturday evening. And then I have a very full week planned for next week before I fly back to SA on either the 17th or the 19th.
Flight and Travel Stats:
· Destination: Istanbul, Turkey
· Airline: Turkish Air
· Flight: TK041
· Plane: Airbus A340-300
· Class: Business
· Seat: 5K (window)
· Runway: 21 (ex JNB)
· Flying time: Johannesburg to Istanbul = 09h15min
· Total travel duration: Depart Durban 15h00 GMT; Arrive Istanbul 20h30 GMT (+1 day) = total transit time 29.5hrs
Exchange rates:
100ZAR = 10.4 EUR
100ZAR = 14.5 US$
100ZAR = 23.3 New Turkish Lira
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