Back on the Road

Jake and I have dubbed the next 24 hours as "the last hardest day." Consequently, it is also our last full day in Africa, ever. We are feeling much recovered from yesterday's pitiful state, thanks in large part to some healthy doses of expired Cipro, poached from old Peace Corps medical kits.

What Should Happen

The plan is to check out at 10am from the hotel, wander around until 2:30, catch the ferry back to the mainland, catch a local bus we've heard runs to the airport around the clock, sit at the airport until our flight at 3:45am (Turkish airways will be receiving my customer feedback on this ungodly departure time), we will arrive in Istanbul around 11am, change planes, arrive in Athens, figure out the Metro system, walk two blocks and check into our hotel! Not so bad. Ha!

What Did Happen

Checked out of our hotel, and walked around Zanzibar for basically our first and last time. We bought lots of spices in the local market from one nice vendor as another, not so nice vendor, stood their warning us that tourists who bought from the nice spice man were typically stabbed mid-transaction. Hard to be intimidated by a guy who's main source of income is selling cinnamon sticks. Don't worry, we weren't shanked.  I bought a few more little things from a guy who claimed his name was Mr. Discount, who every time I requested a discount he would throw his hands in the air and squeal " you're killing me!!!" He didn't die, and I got what I wanted. We have decided that Tanzanians are a bit more dramatic than Malawians. Next, we headed for the docks to buy our ferry ticket. I'm afraid I could never describe how awful it is to buy ferry tickets in Zanzibar; I sort of imagine it's what those poor dolphins felt like; you just want to be left alone, but there are people coming at you from all sides yelling and failing their arms dangerously close to your face. Anyway, escaped relatively unharmed and with tickets, got some lunch, got our stuff (did I mention that it was about 100 degrees and 90% humidity), got in a cab, got on the ferry, got seasick, and finally made it back to Dar es Salaam.  

Thank goodness for the truly helpful people out there, and thanks to one of them we managed to find the right bus, and jump into it, we quite literally had to jump on this moving bus as it only slowed down a little so we got up a bit of speed running next to it and sort of vaulted in, each carrying two backpacks a piece. The local Tanzanians were not as friendly as Malawians, and the little chatter we could understand did not sound pleased that we were taking up valuable pubic transport space.  Never the less, we made it, and in a no less dramatic dismount from the bus, we managed to squeeze, strain, and pull our way through the jammed bus, and out onto the pavement.  I'm fairly certain I took down some of the frailer bus passengers on the way out. I suppose it's only fitting that our last transport experience in Africa be just as horrendous as the thousands of previous minibus nightmares. 

Once we arrived at the airport we were informed that we would not be allowed to enter the air conditioned oasis to check in until 1am (we arrived at about 6pm), we spent half our time in a sad little cafeteria until they kicked us out at 10pm and then we were forced onto the benches outside where the Mosquitos were more than happy to keep us entertained, and the heat made doubly sure we didn't sleep. Finally, made it on the airplane, took off, slept about 2 hours before the Captain requested that any doctor on the plane please make themselves known.  No response.  Feeling guilty, I thought it would be a good idea just to mention I was a nurse and pray that they wouldn't want me,   Wrong. I was dragged from my seat and found myself padding down the aisle still in my nice new white socks I had been saving for the plane ride. The guy was ok, a little panic attack brought on by fever and a horrible sore throat.  He spoke...not Englsh, so we had to communicate through the flight attendants, but I managed to elicit that he had never been to a doctor or taken any medicine, ever, and he assumed that the sore throat was his airway closing up and he was going to suffocate, all this made much more real by a high fever. All it took was a few comforting words, a Tylenol for the fever, and he practically skipped off the plane and was all smiles as we shook hands and said goodbye. Glad he was such a good patient because the flight attendants were terribly misbehaved and kept handing me the defibrillator and large, empty syringes and suggesting we make an emergency landing in the middle of Sudan.  

The rest of the trip was gloriously uneventful. Jake and I really do crave normalcy these days. Navigating the Athenian transportation system and streets was a dream. We arrived, almost exactly 24  hours from when we left Zanzibar, to our delightful hotel in Athens. We've already extended an extra night.