Charles Apple

As I mentioned earlier, I’m embarking on a training and consulting trip to Cape Town, South Africa today.

I’ll be there two weeks. And, of course, I’ll blog as much as I can about the trip. Especially since I’ve blogged about various travel mishaps in the past as lost luggage, missed flights and airport chairs that literally crumbled out from under me.

Right after takeoff, about 6:20 a.m., as
the sun peeked over the Chesapeake Bay.
—

So when my flight to Dulles airport in Washington, D.C., passed very close to a towering lightning storm and I stared out my window directly into enormous bolts of electrical plasma, I could think of only one thing.

My life didn’t flash before my eyes. Nor did I think of my wife and daughter back home. No, I thought of Chris Anderson of Harrisburg, Pa., who has told me how much he enjoys reading of my famous travel misadventures.

Well, the lighting was very scary. It was the closest I’ve ever come to a storm that large, up in the air. But no, I did not die in a horrible air accident. When I do, you can be assured I’ll blog it here and then tweet the link.

As I was exiting the plane — after we landed, thank you very much — I stuck my head into the cockpit to thank the pilots (another of the odd little travel quirks I’ve picked up over the years). While I was at it, I asked them how close we had come to the storm. The co-pilot told me:

About 25 miles.

Which sucks. I was prepared to tell you we were only a mile or so away. I have no idea how to gauge distances in the air, where there are no trees or buildings or broken airport chairs you can use for visual reference.

The only other story from my 45-minute hop this morning: The guy beside me on the plane had a severe problem with gas.

Hmm. I thought all domestic flights these days were non-farting.

So here I sit in the international terminal at Dulles airport. I ate a nice breakfast of organic eggs and applewood bacon and now I’m killing time until lunch. Although it’s already well into Saturday afternoon at my destination, I feel awfully guilty ordering a beer at 8:30 in the morning.

My flight to Johannesburg doesn’t leave until 5:40 p.m., which is a little less than nine hours from now. That flight arrives at 5:20 p.m. Sunday afternoon after 17 hours, 40 minutes in transit.

I wondered why it takes so long to fly across “only” seven time zones. (There’s a six-hour time difference, but there are seven time zones between here and there. Because it’s Daylight Saving time here in the U.S. but not there. Get it? If you do, please call me and explain it. My own grasp on all this is a bit tenuous.)

And then I saw this, a little while ago. It’s the electronic sign at my (deserted, at the moment) departure gate:

I’ll admit my ignorance of African geography by telling you I was shocked we were making two stops I didn’t expect: Dakar and Senegal. Until I Googled it and discovered that Dakar is the stop. Dakar is a city in the country of Senegal, on the extreme west coast of Africa.

Here’s an updated outline of my trip:

The other funny travel near-mishap of the morning: I presented myself at the United Airlines counter in Norfolk with two bags to check — a huge suitcase and a tall, skinny box for an old friend I’ll be meeting in Cape Town. In addition to the box, there were also several books for that same friend, packed away inside of a green, Poynter Institute bag, deep inside my suitcase.

The lady at the counter weighed my bag and informed me it was 54 lbs. — four pounds over the limit for a domestic flight. United limits bags on domestic flights to 50 lbs. but allows 70 lbs. per bag for international flights.

But I was four pounds over. So she wanted to charge me an extra fee.

Of one hundred and fifty dollars.

I immediately popped open my bag, snatched out the books and looked at the scale. Now, the suitcase weighed only 47 lbs. So no overage fee, the woman said.

Not wanting to lug seven extra pounds of books around Dulles for 11 hours, I unzipped the Poynter bag, pulled out the largest book and plopped it back into my large suitcase. 50 lbs., 8 ounces. Close enough, she said. So I closed up my suitcase and squeezed the Poynter bag into my carry-on case: The nice suede bag I got when I was a judge for the Society for News Design, two years ago. (Hey! Yet another great reason to renew my SND membership!)

My nest here in Harry’s, in Terminal B at Dulles. For most
of the morning, I’ve been the only non-employee in the place.
You see my computer case and my suede SND bag, as well as
my new MacBook Pro. This is the first trip for my new Mac.
—

So here I sit. I walked through a mostly-deserted international terminal, found a deserted (but open) restaurant and ate. At some point, it’ll be time to eat again. I’m trying to decide whether to give up my perch here in search of some variety or stick it out with the friendly Egyptian chap who’s waiting on me here.

At some point, of course, I should go down and check in for my flight. I really don’t know how the process will work. I have my passport and my itinerary, but no boarding pass or visa (the latter of which I don’t need, I’ve been assured).

I’ll be served three — count ‘em, three — meals on board, I’m told: Dinner, breakfast and lunch. And then I’ll be served dinner aboard the flight from Johannesburg to Cape Town tomorrow night.

I’ll try to blog from Johannesburg, perhaps. Or maybe when I arrive in Cape Town. It’ll be late, though, and I’ll be tired. Plus, I’ll have an early day on Monday.

Or, perhaps I’ll blog again today, from here in Terminal B. I suspect I’ll be a lot more interesting after I’ve had a few beers.

—
UPDATE, 1:06 P.M. EDT

Chris Anderson, if you’re out there: This update is for you.

—
EXPEDITION TO SOUTH AFRICA

You’re reading the second chapter of my journey to Cape Town, South Africa. Find the start of this tale here.

This entry was posted on Saturday, August 22nd, 2009 at 10:48 am and is filed under Charles Apple, Travelogue, Trip to South Africa. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. Both comments and pings are currently closed.