The Journey Here

Well, I’m here!

I’ve finally arrived in Lilongwe. And thank God I say, because I wasn’t always convinced during the course of the journey here, that I would complete it. This is a very long spiel, but bear with me because I think it’s really worth it.

To begin with, the delightful folks at Aer Fungus (sorry, Lingus) wouldn’t allow me on the plane because of visa complications. Oh joy! Cue much panicking on my part – I had to ring Trocaire, who in turn rang the travel agents, who in turn altered my flight itinerary to coincide with what Aer Lingus were telling me. I was assisted in all of this by the most lovely woman imaginable, whom I’d get chatting to in the queue for check-in. She took it upon herself to help me carry my (HEAVY) bags across the airport to somewhere I could sit down and charge my phone, bought me a drink of water – though I could probably have done with something stiffer at that point – calmed me down, and then helped me drag my bags all the way back across the airport to check in again.

Isn’t the random kindness of strangers amazing? Doesn’t it just make your day, month, year? This woman was an angel! And thanks in part to her help, I eventually got checked in and everything was sorted. The drama - the suspense, the action! - of my journey was not over yet though. Oh no.

I had been a bit concerned, on seeing my itinerary for the first time, about the fact that they had only allowed me an hour between my 1st flight arriving into Amsterdam, and my 2nd flight leaving it. Excluding the 20 minutes early I would have to be in order to get there before the boarding gate closed, I would have 40 minutes left to find the gate I was at, get my stuff together, and get on my 2nd plane. My luggage for the entire journey was going straight from plane to plane, rather than me checking it in and out every time, so I really needed to get the flights I was scheduled to take.

But guess what. My Aer Fungus flight was delayed. Guess how much by?
An hour. MY hour. My bloody precious hour which was all I had to catch the 2nd plane. I thought I was going to cry. I could feel it coming. I looked at my phone as the plane waited to taxi in to Amsterdam, only to see that the time for the boarding gate to Nairobi to close had already passed... I got that sinking feeling you get, when you know that something you really need is totally out of reach. There was no way I’d get that plane. The only way I’d get on would be if it just so happened to also be delayed, by at least half an hour/40 minutes. I resolved to find the gate, just on the off-chance.

I’d forgotten, in the 4 years since I’d been there last, just how bloody BIG Amsterdam airport is. My boarding gate was literally about as far as possible from the one I entered through, and Sonia O’ Sullivan would have been proud of the gut-wrenching sprint I performed across the airport, shoving my way through hordes of daft tourists taking photographs of themselves on the escalators. Who the hell takes a photo of themselves on an escalator?? I ask you.

Anyway. I got to the gate and nearly cried again. This time, though, it was from joy. The flight had indeed been miraculously delayed by 45 minutes, and the queue to board was just forming as I got there. *Sniff* I looked up at the ceiling. “Seriously, God... Nice one” I would have said it aloud had I still been able to breathe.

It got better yet. There was free wine with the plane meal!!! Some of you reading this may not drink a lot, or at all. Nor do I, usually. But after the evening’s events, I felt a glass of Famille de Castillo 2007 reserve Merlot, was quite in order. As usual, 1 glass was quite sufficient to send old Two-Drink Tess here into a stupor, and the rest of the 9-10 hour flight passed by on a breeze.
Now, had that been the entirety of the good fortune I enjoyed on my journey, I would have been perfectly content with it. I’d been pretty darn blessed so far, and I was well on my way to Lilongwe.

I had one more flight to catch, and that was Nairobi – Lilongwe. I eventually navigated my way to it through Nairobi airport, which by the by, is an experience in and of itself. It’s more bloody confusing than trying to solve a Rubix cube when you’re colourblind. In fact, you’d probably have more chance with the Rubix cube.

I had been nervous before I went away, about missing the church I go to at home, and the fact that I probably wouldn’t be able to go to one while I was over. I wouldn’t know where to start looking for one, and I usually prefer to choose anything important based on personal recommendation than anything else. I’d more or less consigned myself to just bringing over some Christian music and books, and trying to feed myself spiritually as much as possible.

On the final flight, however, I was sitting next a very pleasant man from England, who was also heading to Lilongwe. He got chatting to me first, and asked me what I was doing in Lilongwe, how long I was staying, etc. You get the idea, small talk. He seemed very nice, and eventually out of curiosity I asked him what he was heading to Lilongwe for. I actually felt like bursting out laughing when he told me.

He was a travelling pastor. He spent a lot of time between England, and the cities of Lilongwe and Blantyre, also in Malawi. He came over as a guest speaker to churches he had contacts with in both cities, and when I said that I went to a similar type church at home, he duly supplied me with the email of the main pastor for his contact church in Lilongwe. I am so, so delighted about this, I can’t tell you enough how bowled over by God’s grace I was. I mean seriously, how many pastors can there have been on that plane? Not only that, but normally I would never chat to the people sitting next to me on planes – not that I don’t like to, but I usually prefer to read or sleep. It was an amazing, miraculous answer to so many prayers. I actually would not have dared to hope for something like this, I’m actually blown away...

This man was such a gent. When we got off the plane, he helped me out with the immigration forms and waited until I got all my bags before he headed off. I was so grateful to him, I was really nervous at this stage and he was so helpful. I eventually got everything together in my final destination, and it all came together when I was met in the arrivals hall of Lilongwe airport by the Trocaire driver. A lovely local guy, shall I tell you his name? You’ll understand how hilarious it was to me, when I do.

His name was Blessings.