Johannesburg Trip (with fun delays!)

I am still working on the Eras tour mega post but I am being an absolute perfectionist diva about everything in it so it's just taken me a long time, but I feel that shouldn't hold up other blog posts such as one about my trip to South Africa so I'm just saying fuck it, that post will be ready when it's ready but it can't be like that ship the Evergreen that blocked the suez canal for weeks and held up the worlds shipping lanes. It is really nearly ready I am sure of it. And it will be worth the wait.

So I'm travelling to South Africa to visit my family there. The thing that I most excited about is to see Rusty, Paula's dog. Rusty holds a special place in my heart for so many reasons but especially because during covid, the lockdowns and the various levels and social distancing, I was single and on my own that whole time, in fact I had just moved to Centurion for work just mere weeks before the lockdowns happened, so I was really isolated on a physical level.

Once the lockdown level had been reduced (South Africa really does love it's levels and stages and phases) and they allowed people to visit family I was still really careful because at that point we didn't know how contagious the virus was so all the advice was just to always distance physically with everyone that isn't in your direct household. It was even more for others around me, yes I was worried that I would get covid from someone else, but I was actually more worried that about transmitting it to someone else who could get severely ill. Why am I even explaining this? You all lived through the exact same thing, but perhaps for my few danish readers to know what it was like in South Africa. Oh and because it will explain Rusty!

I had spent probably more than a year and a half without touching or hugging any other living thing, except for Rusty that is! I enjoyed visiting Paula so much during those times but especially cherished sseeing the Rust Bucket and playing with him and when I reflected upon it I realised, wow, Rusty was the only living being that I had any actual physical contact with for all that time.

Of course I'm also excited to see the family and catch up on things, to give them presents that I've gathered over the two years that I've been here. And there are some foods that I've missed like biltong and edible tasting fruit. Okay I'm being a tad dramatic there, Danish fruit is not all that bad and their berries really are excellent (and cheaper than the ones in South Africa), and berries are probably one of the healthiest fruits too. But the other fruit is ... less than ideal. You have to be both selective and careful of any fruits that you buy and make sure that all of them are all good, even at the more expensive and supposedly higher quality stores like Meny.

So the past two (3?) days and this journey so far has turned out to be quite an exhausting experience.
The trip started off smoothly, on Thursday, the day before my flight I was so worried about the packing and forgetting someething important, and also feeling stressed about needing to clear out any leftovers in the fridge, and Rob sent through a whole packing list for me and when I was home from work he had already arrived at my place before me and took care of all the scary leftovers, and I was just so touched and relieved.
He then even helped me pack and go through checklists so that I didn't forget anything.

This trip will actually be the longest time that we have been apart from each other and so we have really been trying to enjoy every moment that we spent together leading up to it.

On Friday I went to work as normal but with a massive suitcase because I don't pack light and I had a lot of presents to bring with. After work I headed straight to the airport and security was very smooth and quick, and then the flight to London went smoothly. That was when the smoothness stopped.

Okay please bear with me for a minuate because I need to scream some frustration into the void right now
When I landed I got a message that my flight from London to Johannesburg was delayed, that was not a big deal, happens all the time but I was feeling pretty annoyed that the UK had made me arrange what is called a Direct Airside Transit Visa, even though I was not even entering the country properly.

Getting that involved having to pay 35 pounds for the visa (okay maybe fair enough but a bit steep for a transfer) and then submitting income statements and bank statements and literally having to explain my monthly budget and all kinds of documents that truly shouldn't be any business of a country that I'm merely transiting through. Then I literally had to sign a declaration that I have not committed genocide or war crimes

(yes seriously) then making to make an appointment, which cost 85 pounds, and then a further 185 pounds for a priority slot appointment.

Why do I need a priority slot appointment you ask? What's wrong with going at a normal slot, ha! Trick question, there is no regular slot - LITERALLY every slot is a priority slot.

it's just another way to force people with the radioactive green passport to spend more money for no good reason. Then I had to HAND IN my passport for THREE WEEKS whilst they decide if I'm worthy of entering just the international departures area of their airport for 3 hours.

Long story long, I was feeling rather stubborn and decided to take a stand and bring my Stanley full of ice (only ice no liquids) through security, even though my boss told me that London security would not allow that. When I got to security the agent asked about the flask and said any liquids in there, and I said no, its just ice. She said she isn't sure if that's allowed because it's a liquid and I said okay but ice is literally a solid so check as you like.

Turns out it is actually fine, victory!

I then went to wagamamas for a light dinner, the food was good, but I was not a fan of the communal long and also bar hight tables. I really detest a high table and these chairs had no back support either, but what I was even less fond of was the obnoxiously loud porno style instrumenal bongos they were blaring at me, so I headed to a quiet corner to just relax and decompress from the first flight and catch up with Rob.

I showed him the delay notice on the departures list on the Heathrow website and thought, huh, thats funny, it shows that my flight was delayed again, but instead of saying 22:25 like it used to it showed 11:25. "Hmm, why would they do a am/pm switcheroo like that", I thought to myself.

I fiddled on my phone for a bit and watched a lot of the shops and restaurants in the airport close up, feeling kind of suspicious why they hadn't announced which gate it would be at. I went to investigate and I asked at the desk and they said, sorry the flight is delayed until tomorrow morning.

Yes, tomorrow. Yes. Morning. Remembering some vague EU law from a tiktok I saw about delays I told them, wait but if that's the case then the airline owes me compensation and a hotel for the night etc and he said, yes yes, all that information will be ready for you at gate 21 please go there.

Internally I started freaking out a bit because I was already frazzled from a work day and a 2 hour flight and the awful music choices of wagamamas and now I was facing a fate of Tom Hanks in The Terminal.

I was truly thinking perhaps I should just take a flight back to Copenhagen, I know, it was very irrational, and family back home reading this, of course I love you all but I was truly reaching the end of my tether as the British like to say.

I called Rob and told him that my flight was delayed until the next day and that I was freaking out about becoming a fugitive and overstaying my visa or whatever, and he tried to calm me down and said that I should talk to the agent for all the details.

I arrived at that gate, in quite a state mind you, and the woman was really nice and patient with me, explaining that the flight was delayed until tomorrow at 11:25 (am) and gave me a printed piece of A4 paper with a hotel address. She said that I would just need to arrange for a taxi to that hotel, stay there overnight, and return to the airport in the morning, but that the hotel itself was paid for and that I just need to lay out the money for both taxis and I will get them paid back, "probably in 104 business days", I thought to myself.

I then told her that's all very well but what about the transit visa etc, I don't want to be breaking any immigration laws today, and she said it's totally fine, immigration knows the situation, since I have an outbound flight that was delayed outside of my control I would have no problem entering the UK.

I then said, okay but like how do you even leave this area of the airport, the only way that I know to leave this duty free area is to take a plane to another airport! She said to simply go down this secret escalator, so I did and then other agents herded me (and my fellow disappointed travellers) this way and that way down various mysterious corridors and I ended up in the baggage claim section of the airport.

I went through immigration, took the queue for 'other [smelly] passports' and then tried to explain to the immigration officer the situation and that I do have a transit visa and the flight was delayed and that I don't want to enter the UK unless it's totally allowed. He said he already knows all that, it's totally fine, stampy stamp and wanted to move me along but ironically I was trying to explain to HIM why they shouldn't let me in, whilst he was trying to explain to me that he is letting me in.

I just wanted to be careful because I know how countries can bee fussy with visas and rules and I didn't want to be breaking any rules that would be an issue next time I visit the UK proper, not just the lovely international transfers area with their charming wagamamas music.

I then waited in a really long line to get a London Black Cab taxi, and my travel agent called me to explain everything I needed to be aware of. She told me that I must keep every reciept and that she would do her best to ensure all the unexpected expenses, not just the taxi, but any toiletries needed etc would be paid back (but that it will take quite a long time) and that it's very important to keep all the receipts.

I was very touched by the call and the personal attention when I was feeling so lost and confused. Eventually got to the front of the line and was taken to the Mercure hotel, where there was a queue of perhaps twenty five billion people waiting to check in. Since it was such a full flight, and not just any plane but a fully packed Airbus A380, with a delay announced so last minute, the entire plane had basically been sent to this rando airport hotel.

I joined the line and my feet were absolutely killing me at this point. I got to talking to the two women in the line behind me, Grace and Janine, and we exchanged our whole life stories over the course of the check in line, it was moving at 1 person per 5 minutes, so we really got deep, went through all the topics from life in Europe vs South Africa, airline delays.

After just under two hours in that line, where I had eventually just given up and sat my butt directly on the floor, I was given a hotel room at just after 1:30 with multiple alarms set for 7. I then remembered that whilst I did have my sleep apnea machine with me I didn't have a UK adaptor, so I asked at reception. I had to explain at least 3 times that no the machine is not USB type C, nor type A, that it's not any kind of USB, it's a regular ass wall plug. They said that they couldn't help me.

I checked the back of the TV which sometimes has the same plug as my machine, but no luck there. I then noticed the plug in the bathroom for electric razors was the right shape. So I snaked the cord all the way from the bathroom to the bed and passed out.

The next morning (which was this morning, since I am writing this on the plane) was pretty smooth, I had breakfast with basically all the South African people on the flight, plus some thoroughly disappointed American tourists who's safari had been completely ruined, and went back to the airport.

I gave the taxi driver a 20% tip and I told him that the tip is on British Airways tab because they are the reason that I'm in this cab right now and not in Johannesburg already. We chatted and he told me he was sorry that I had now missed a full day of spending time with family, and I told him it was okay because I'll probably be able to get like 600 euros in compensation from the whole delay (it's an EU law, I checked), and he said well at least you are looking on the bright side. I don't really consider myself an optimist but I guess sometimes I can be so it took a London cabbie to point that out.

I decided not to chance my luck debating physics with airport security this morning and so emptied the stanley, made my way through security and then I had a second breakfast of avocado toast, again on british airways tab, and again with a fat tip for the waitress.

Then they announced my gate and I saw that it was all the way at C63, literally the furthest possible gate in the entire airport from the main area, as I thought "Lovely! I'm about to miss this flight too then! From what I worked out on the app, it said that the gate closes 40 minutes before departure and it was now 47 minutes before departure, and yet it felt like they had just announced the gate.

So I ran like a madman, had to take an actual train in the airport to get to another part of the airport, then up two of the largest escalators that I've ever been on and finally got to see the massive plane that had finally showed up for us. It turns out that boarding had only just started and wasn't about to close so that was panic for nothing. I found my way onto the plane, which had 3 different sky bridges to the various parts of it, took my place in a really comfortable seat and settled in for an 11 hour flight.

The last thing that I had to take care of though was letting my family know that I was delayed, but with the extra complication that since it was currently Yom Kippur, and my family was expecting me to arrive at around 10am, but were unable to contact me, or knowing what even happened to the plane or why I hadn't landed as planned, since it was both Shabbos and Yom Kippur, I had to get creative.

I messaged my former domestic worker, Tryfine, to get the phone number of my sister's domestic worker, Abby, to then send a message to my mom's domestic worker, or to my mom directly that I was delayed and that I would only be arriving after midnight.

I waited for the plane to take off, but it was delayed yet again, they gave us the reason being that there was a passenger who had to leave the plane, but their baggage was still on the plane, so they had to find it and remove it. They then announced another delay, saying that they had found the baggage, but it was in a crate with 40 other pieces of luggage so that's why there was a delay. Anyways eventually the plane took off, and I just watched some downloaded tv shows and then wrote this gigantic blog post because I can't really sleep on planes and I still have another 2 hours to go. Huh, that's a rather flat ending to this winding tale! Oh well, enjoy a picture of the screen I was looking at.