Thursday 26 March – Bangkok, Addis Ababa, Johannesburg, Cape Town
0:55 am – Bangkok – Suvarnabhumi Airport international departures.
I spot the young South African of earlier in the departure hall – he got onto the flights for 26 March – Ek gaan huis toe ! (I’m going home!) he says when he sees me. We board. The flight to Addis Ababa is packed – not an open seat. I fall asleep upright in my seat before the security demonstrations start.
6:30 am – Addis Ababa International Airport
We try one more time – go to the Ethiopian Air desk to see if we can switch to the Cape Town flight. Surely humanitarian exceptions can be made to flight code rules. There is a queue of over 20 people that does not move. I said to Shiloh – the irony is there are probably people in that queue wanting to switch from the Cape Town flight to the Johannesburg flight. But a flight ticket is not a bus or train ticket you can just exchange.
Shiloh meets a young South African couple. Their Emirates flights from Phuket to Durban were also cancelled. The only tickets they could find to fly home was Ethiopian Air business class tickets to Johannesburg. They had to phone home and borrow R86 000 from a friend to pay for the flights. We meet a South African family – father, mother and two little girls. Their Emirates flights were cancelled – it has cost them in excess of R200 000 to get these flights home.
We’re not going to get on the Cape Town flight. I go to the guys preparing the boarding gate and explain my story. They give us two seats in row 11, right at the door of the plane.
7:35 am – Addis Ababa International Airport
We board 20 minutes early – I light up – maybe that would mean we land 20 minutes earlier which will give us a fighting chance to make the local flight. The flight is less than half full. We get served lunch at 11 – I pick a bottle of red wine – we’re mid-air, the flight can no longer be cancelled. I talk to the head stewardess – she will help us disembark first.
1:00 pm – Johannesburg, OR Tambo Airport
The air hostess had given us Covid-19 declaration forms to complete – listing the countries we’ve visited in the last 14 days, have we experienced any of 8 symptoms, have we been in contact with anyone with these symptoms, have we knowingly been in contact with anyone who has tested positive for Covid-19, have we tested positive for Covid-19. India and Thailand and no to the rest. Give our flight and seat numbers, nationality and sign.
The plane circles the airport. Up to this point in the 4-day drama Shiloh – normally the emotional side of our marriage – has remained very calm, positive and supportive. The plane circling instead of landing is the pushing the breaking point of his self-control. Surely there are hardly any other planes keeping up the landing. We finally land 1pm – most of the 20-minute head start lost. Our connecting flight is leaving in 55 minutes, boarding gate closes in 45 minutes. Within seconds of the seat belt sign switching off we are at the door with our hand luggage. As the door opens 4 masked officials step on to the plane. Everybody back in their seats. We need to take your temperatures at your seats. We turn around and sit down. We’re right in the front and our temperature is taken first. Two girls step forward they need to get to a funeral, their temperature is good, can they disembark. The official lets them go. Shiloh gets up – we need to catch a connecting flight – our temperatures are good, can we disembark. No sit down. And the emotional wall of calm breaks – we need to be on that flight, the country is in lock down, we need to get to Cape Town, this is our only chance, we need to disembark! I cringe – now they’ll keep us until midnight!
Are you South African – I bring out our two green passports – which countries did you visit – Thailand and India – give us the forms – OK go! And we run. The ramp splits up and down. We run down – door is locked, back to the split run up, door opens. The door opens on to seats of passengers waiting for their last plane out of South Africa. We’re in the transit area – not passport control. We’re not turning back, we ask where is passport control, some dazed looks, someone points that way, we run, where is passport control, we need to check into the country? That way, but it is for check out of the country. We run past the checkout controls. Where is passport control, we need to check into the country – that way but I think it is closed. My lungs start to ache from the thin Johannesburg air. We get to a control point that looks pretty closed – four guys packing up – please we need to check into the country – how did you get here – we got off a plane, we need to make the last flight to Cape Town before lockdown. The dramatic line seems to hit a cord. I’ll take you. Some door is unlocked. Go straight then slightly left – follow the passage. We go straight, slightly left. We’re in what looks like a lounge of sorts with drinks and food and people waiting, we follow the passage and an area opens with a snaking queue – emigration!
There is a lady taking temperatures. We’ve been running, Shiloh says in an out of breath voice. She looks at the temperature and laughs – don’t worry you’re good. There is a queue of about 50 people – Shiloh makes a Whatsapp call – we’re at emigration but I don’t think we can make the flight there is a queue. The guy in front of us hears his conversation – go to the front of the queue he says – it looks like everyone heard the conversation – they give way and we go to the front of the queue – welcome home, stamp stamp.
I check for terminal B – left – run, run – terminal B is huge and deserted of passengers. Where do we board flight 343 – SAA. Go up. We go up. Ask again where do we board flight SA 343. One official start running – follow me, you can make it. We run. We get to the check-in counter – do you have luggage? No only hand luggage. Where are your boarding passes? We checked in online I give her our green passports. Here – I’ve printed it for you – now run like you’ve never run before. Security – our bags go through the scanner. OK run the one official lady tells me – or you stay in Johannesburg for the lockdown. I laugh – I’ll stay with you. For a moment she pictures the scene. Its not very modern she says. It’s alright we’re old hippies Shiloh shouts over his shoulder as we run. We’re at gate D1 – our gate is D8. I glance up at the departure screen. There are only four flights listed – SA 343 to Cape Town – Boarding Closed. A barista from one of the coffee shops packing up see us running – the only passengers in the departure hall – where are you going – D8 we need to make the flight. He grabs our boarding passes and starts running. Come follow me. The three of us – a barista with our boarding passes, me with my new carry-on bag on wheels, laptop bag over the shoulder, and Shiloh with his backpack, running down the departure hall. Along the way cleaners and shops stewards chants run, run. I am not sure if they are mocking our desperation or supporting us, but I would like to believe we are running on the wings of Ubuntu, South Africans helping South Africans get home.
We get to gate D8 three ground stewards manning the gate. The barista has already handed them our boarding passes. Before I could thank him, he is gone. It is well after 2pm. They scan our passes and we walk down the corridor to board the plane that should have left by now. As we step on to the plane two broadly smiling stewards welcome us with a bottle of cold water each. Cheers to SAA ! Their smiles break into happy laughs. We make our way to our seats. The plane stays stationary – after five minutes an announcement – good news, our last crew member has arrived, and we will be departing shortly. We made the flight because one crew member was late.
4 pm – Cape Town International
We land in lovely Cape Town – one leg left – the drive to Onrus. At Bidvest Car hire a young intern helps us. Mevrou has a small suitcase for someone who has travelled for 3 weeks. (You don’t know half of it young man.) They are closing at 5 – its 4:55 when we get the car. The airport is closing at 5, our young intern tells me excitedly, we’re expecting the army trucks at any moment. We stop at Woolworths in Somerset mall and I buy 6 bottles of red wine before they close at 6pm – the last wine we can buy until the lockdown is lifted. Jo-ann who was looking after our cat for three weeks messaged me earlier – she has stocked us up with some groceries at home. Over the mountain, Onrus and home. We need to take the car back, its already dark. Quickly take out the luggage and bottles of wine, Shiloh in the rental car, me in my car, we drop the Bidvest rental car off in town. At home, for the last time before lock-down kicks in, we get two massive pizzas takeaway from Karmenaadtjie, the best pizzeria in town, could be the best in the world.
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We managed to get home, many other South Africans I am certain are still stuck in Thailand and other parts of the world. In my opinion, Emirates cancelling their flights while the borders were still open and the demand was high, was criminal. If not legally criminal, morally criminal. People stuck in a foreign country are at high risk – they hang around airports, sleep on benches, scramble for tickets disregarding their own and other’s safety, expose themselves to possible infection and get exploited financially when financial hardship is already a reality waiting for the world.
We got home before lockdown on the wings of the prayers and support of our friends and family back home and the kindness of complete strangers. When big brands failed us, service from Ethiopian Airways, SAA and Bidvest car hire were there. Africa brought us home.