Air Trip!

On our Air Madagascar flight: JNB to TNR

A previous post refers.

And so I flew back to a warm, rainless Madagascar on Saturday night after a three-week break in South Africa. At the last minute the Air Madagascar ‘plane had been grounded for “technical reasons”, and a bigger, faster, Boeing 767 was despatched from Tana to fetch us – allowing us to leave a mere five hours after our advertised-departure time.  Fortunately this meant that we had to fly directly to the capital because the 767 was too big to land at any other regional airports.

... Unlike the family I met on the ‘plane that had flown from Mayotte (a tiny island close to our bigger island) to Johannesburg at the beginning of the Christmas holiday. Their “direct” flight resembled a taxi ride or bus trip – with them leaving their airport, going first to the Comores, then Nosy Be, Diego and Morondava (all tiny towns in Madagascar), before finally arriving in Tana...  That’s travel in Africa for you.

But the laughs for me started as soon as I stepped on board. I chose an empty window-seat (it was a case of everyone for him/herself) and strapped myself in, but immediately found myself staring at the wrong end of the safety belt, which had come loose from its fitting – not a good omen. And so I moved. After checking that the seat belt worked I settled in to watch the flight attendants mime the safety instructions. And that was when the arm rest fell off.  I moved again. While this was all happening we were still sitting out on the tarmac, eager to leave, but waiting for our luggage, which had been misplaced because of the long delay. There was an open power point next to my foot, loose wires and a precariously-hanging lifejacket under the thread-bare seat in front of me, it appeared as if fittings were cobbled together from other airplanes’ spare parts, and the side panel to my left had been jammed in place with a wad of toilet paper. But the food was excellent and the staff friendly and beyond-helpful.

This flying jalopy reminded me of the beautiful, old, rinky-tink French taxis which ply Tana’s streets daily, and so, in order to take my mind off all the cabin’s failings, and not dwell on the important facets of flying – like what kept the wings, and engines and wheels in place – I stuck my nose into the in-flight magazine...  The main article boasted about the company’s excellent safety record, and how thoroughly their aircraft were maintained. Ironic. Hilarious!

Everyone was tired, and grouchy, and tetchy after waiting around for so long, and so it would have been very easy to be negative and to take it out on the Air Madagascar staff... But I chose to chuckle. To drink some alcohol. And to pray.