Arriving in Togo
Arrival to Togo
Arriving at the Charles De Gaulle airport was a breeze. I took a shuttle into the airport and met some lovely people that were on their next adventure too. Some were heading back to Seattle and others were heading to Africa, and one couple was going to go to Italy.
One of the most remarkable aspects of Europe is the diversity in culture. California has a specific diversity too, but for Europeans to survive they almost all know more than one language. If you come to American and don’t have a good sense of the language you are either screwed or will hang out in a neighborhood with people that only speak the language you speak and never really get to explore the amazingness of the US.
The airport was swarming. People were going all over the world. Many came up to me speaking French. My only response was Je ne palais Francais je palais English. They would smirk and walk away. Turns out that it wasn’t only Misha (videographer) on the ship but about a dozen of us were there. Misha did a good job of recruiting all the faces and found out who everyone on the team was and was doing. She’s a good journalist. We ended up sitting right near each other and chatted a good majority of the time.
The flight to Togo was long and we left almost two hours late. There was a miscount of passengers and potentially we might have had a stow away. So we waited for them to recount and recount and recount. Louise a native to Togo was sitting next to me and I could hear her gasps and exclamations as she began to get frustrated with the wait. In the meantime, Misha and I had a blast getting to know one another. She’s a cool cat. She gets thumbs up for sure!
There was quite a bit of air turbulence in West Africa. The rains are starting and with a vengeance. The plane went up and down. Nose down and nose up. It went side upside down, and then it did something I had never felt before. It was actually being pushed by the winds left and right. Several times the captain instructed us en francais to put on our safety belts.
We landed. Thank you God. I’m in Africa again. All is well with my soul.
We stripped out of our Paris snow clothes, and went to tanks and flip flops. The thick sweet aroma of Africa was ever so abruptly present at the opening of the airplane door. The a/c had come to a halt and sweet wet air engulfed us. Down the stairs, to the right, and over by the bus transit we gathered. One by one, two by two, we gathered around and welcomed one another. Misha, Inga, Karen, Lynda, Elizabeth, Joann, Kyle, oh I can’t remember all of the names.
Passports stamped. Luggage in tote (3 gals lost their bags), through the welcoming awaiting crowd in Togo, off to our SUV’s…
As soon as I touched Togo soil out of the airport. Gush. Soosh. Blast. Foosh. The rains. Ahhh the African rains… I whispered to Africa. ‘I missed you too’ and shoved my luggage through the crowd towards the suv’s (last station in parking lot). The rains drenched all of us, and cooled us off from the sauna of a baggage claim. I’m on Africa soil. I didn’t mind the rains. They’re comforting. Healing. Refreshing. Good.
Our driver helped us with our luggage and opened the doors and turned on our a/c, while they went back to gather the remaining group. Three gals in each SUV, next to one another, alone, in a locked vehicle, with a/c, laughing over the first Africa rain experience we all had together. I was with two gals from Holland (I’m and 1/8 dutch…they were shocked). And three gals in the SUV next to us. We took pictures of one another drenched, soaked, bathed, well you get the picture (or soon will).
I sat in the front passenger seat, and took my long sleeve shirt off to wipe the windows. Our steam and the rain didn’t make for a clear glass to see out from. The rains had filled pot holes, and it was very difficult to see the pedestrians on the side of the road from our fogged up windows. We flew on the roads, slid in the mud, wheels drowned in the pools of water, and chug chug chug to Mercy Ships. When all of a sudden there she was to the right of us. The Africa Mercy in all her glorious splendor. She’s big. She’s pretty too.
Arriving at the Charles De Gaulle airport was a breeze. I took a shuttle into the airport and met some lovely people that were on their next adventure too. Some were heading back to Seattle and others were heading to Africa, and one couple was going to go to Italy.
One of the most remarkable aspects of Europe is the diversity in culture. California has a specific diversity too, but for Europeans to survive they almost all know more than one language. If you come to American and don’t have a good sense of the language you are either screwed or will hang out in a neighborhood with people that only speak the language you speak and never really get to explore the amazingness of the US.
The airport was swarming. People were going all over the world. Many came up to me speaking French. My only response was Je ne palais Francais je palais English. They would smirk and walk away. Turns out that it wasn’t only Misha (videographer) on the ship but about a dozen of us were there. Misha did a good job of recruiting all the faces and found out who everyone on the team was and was doing. She’s a good journalist. We ended up sitting right near each other and chatted a good majority of the time.
The flight to Togo was long and we left almost two hours late. There was a miscount of passengers and potentially we might have had a stow away. So we waited for them to recount and recount and recount. Louise a native to Togo was sitting next to me and I could hear her gasps and exclamations as she began to get frustrated with the wait. In the meantime, Misha and I had a blast getting to know one another. She’s a cool cat. She gets thumbs up for sure!
There was quite a bit of air turbulence in West Africa. The rains are starting and with a vengeance. The plane went up and down. Nose down and nose up. It went side upside down, and then it did something I had never felt before. It was actually being pushed by the winds left and right. Several times the captain instructed us en francais to put on our safety belts.
We landed. Thank you God. I’m in Africa again. All is well with my soul.
We stripped out of our Paris snow clothes, and went to tanks and flip flops. The thick sweet aroma of Africa was ever so abruptly present at the opening of the airplane door. The a/c had come to a halt and sweet wet air engulfed us. Down the stairs, to the right, and over by the bus transit we gathered. One by one, two by two, we gathered around and welcomed one another. Misha, Inga, Karen, Lynda, Elizabeth, Joann, Kyle, oh I can’t remember all of the names.
Passports stamped. Luggage in tote (3 gals lost their bags), through the welcoming awaiting crowd in Togo, off to our SUV’s…
As soon as I touched Togo soil out of the airport. Gush. Soosh. Blast. Foosh. The rains. Ahhh the African rains… I whispered to Africa. ‘I missed you too’ and shoved my luggage through the crowd towards the suv’s (last station in parking lot). The rains drenched all of us, and cooled us off from the sauna of a baggage claim. I’m on Africa soil. I didn’t mind the rains. They’re comforting. Healing. Refreshing. Good.
Our driver helped us with our luggage and opened the doors and turned on our a/c, while they went back to gather the remaining group. Three gals in each SUV, next to one another, alone, in a locked vehicle, with a/c, laughing over the first Africa rain experience we all had together. I was with two gals from Holland (I’m and 1/8 dutch…they were shocked). And three gals in the SUV next to us. We took pictures of one another drenched, soaked, bathed, well you get the picture (or soon will).
I sat in the front passenger seat, and took my long sleeve shirt off to wipe the windows. Our steam and the rain didn’t make for a clear glass to see out from. The rains had filled pot holes, and it was very difficult to see the pedestrians on the side of the road from our fogged up windows. We flew on the roads, slid in the mud, wheels drowned in the pools of water, and chug chug chug to Mercy Ships. When all of a sudden there she was to the right of us. The Africa Mercy in all her glorious splendor. She’s big. She’s pretty too.
Comments