I'm one quarter of the way through my midnight run. I'm in Hong Kong now and have 3 hours to kill. I've just eaten a simple but delicious meal at a Taiwanese restaurant (spring rolls and honey lemon tea - $8).
At Incheon The Worst Case scenario happened. I whittled down the weight from my enormous bike bag by filling up the last two boxes (of a total of 7), and that weight came to 15kg.
Then I bought dense and heavy stuff into an Oakley bag, and covered the big monitor in a blue pillow case (so it looked like a soft fluffy pillow).
But a vicious looking vampire dressed in red, standing right beside us, insisted we load my 'hand luggage' on as well, and that bumped my weight up by a ghastly 20kg.
Sam Kinisen would have a field day describing this 'helpful lady' as a...well, I know what he would say ;-)
So my total weight was like 60kg (at least double what it should have been (even after all my efforts to throw out almost every items of clothing and every other personal possession). If you have a bike and you fly Cathay Pacific, that's all you'll be allowed to take. And some gum. A candy bar? Pay up, it's 65g!
So having had to weigh my luggage (which was filled with books, gold ingots and a chest made out of lead, filled with big green chunks of kryptonite)my worst nightmare came true, and I said no to a fee of...was it W600 000?
Just the wheel (with my mouse and keyboard) would mean a charge of W100 000...and knowing the postoffice wouldn't allow me to send my other wheel (it's still there, abandoned and tyreless, at the post office), and knowing the wheel is heavy underutilised, and knowing it would be a burden to leave it for someone else to bring, I thought, "C'mon Mr Cheapskate, pay the piper."
I walked around to the excessive baggage counter, my cargo pants jingling like a treasure chest (I was carryiong a big bag of coins from Thailand, Malaysia, Singapore, Japan and Kore and wanted to dispose of the load in a UNICEF dispenser (usually found beside the till in the average airport shop).
And who was sitting in a red Cathay Pacific uniform but Mrs Choi, a very sweet, and very kind lady who used to be my student with a great bunch of adults. I still did 7 Habits with them, and the class had great energy.
With a sense of defeat, I asked her, "Do you think I can get a discount?" She hurried off to the terminal counter and 5 minutes later she was back, telling me, "It's free."
We spoke a bit and then I packed some of the kryptonite and one or two menhirs into a special cardboard box, instead of having to haul all this stuff Obelix style (on my back but scraping the roof and cracking the floors).
I still had my huge flatscreen, but they grudgingly let me take that through, but they warned me, "They may not let you take it through."
Pete was with me, he drove me to the airport and helped me pack my mountain into his car...he was able to explain what an extraordinary human being I am (extraordinarily dumb)...and well, managed to get me an extra 5kg grace. But the desktop trump tower was just too much of a skscraper for the airplane to long haul.
I invited Mrs Choi to breakfast but she was still working, so after filling out a departure card for nothing, I quickly crumpled it up (as from 11/01 us foreingers no longer have to fill in those little yellow cards) and Pete and I headed to Bravados (or something like that)...no, Davidoff's...where we ate some well needed grub. Meanwhile, my ghost was about to start teaching, and in my mind's eye, the director was starting to reach for a telephone and call Immigration...
I suggested to Pete that we quickly gobble up the rest and then quickly headed through customs. They gave me a bit of a hard time. First they checked under my cap to mkae sure I was bald, then they found my nosestrips (cleans the pores on your nose) because there's a flashy metal logo on the box and made their thingy bleep...and then they pulled out a weapon that So Young must have planted in my luggage, unless I did it without thinking. I very very dangerous allan key. So they tossed that into the bin, tried to bash the front of the monitor open...no, wait,l that was here at Hong Kong airport...
Then I stood behind two Russians while the customs guy seemed increasingly convinced one of them was Al Qaeda...meanwhile my ghost disappeared in thin air and 15 minutes had gone by...The phone right beside this guy started rining?
"Noogoo? Wehgooksarrum? Nick teacher? Pal pagi? Arrahsoh."
But the phone didn't ring.
The single entry visa that I knew I wasn't going to use definitely persuaded him, because he was looking around a bit, asking for my alien card and seeming somewhat perplexed.
And then I stepped through.
On the plane I had to unscrew the top of the airplane so I could wedge my silver screen into the hull.
Now I am in Hong Kong and been standing and typing, which is why this post is slightly dementeded. I bought a black bag here, $24, to protect the flatscreen. It fits perfectly over it and has a little padding for protecting. So I don't look a long lost New Orleans looter.
I only had about 2 hours sleep last night. Very early this morning when I should have been sleeping I watched a documentary on H5N1 (here at the airport in Hong Kong there are announcements advising people to wash hands after eaching or touching birds, especially chickens), and then I watched an episode of Smallville...and then I tried again and again to call my girlfriend. Something wrong with the World Express Exchange last night. Just got an engaged tone for hours.
The flight was so so. The airline hostess assigned to my aisle had a great sense of humor. She helped me from the start, offering me a blanket to protect the flatscreen, and being otherwise friendly and helpful.
I slept most of the way...not solidly...just off and on.
Spoke a little to an engineer working on his laptop on my right (not especially friendly though: "What field of engineering?" "Manufacturing." "Oh.")
The guy behind me wanted to know about the flatscreen when we disembarked. He turned to be a Hong Kong resident working for Standard Chartered, and was in Korea on "banking business". Seemed like a nice, interesting fellow.
Once off the plane I peeled off my stinky t-shirt and put on the shirt Mrs Choi bought me...oh I forgot...the lady who neutralised the excess baggage fee, found me at my departure gate and sat down and chatted with me, and then wanted to take me somewhere to buy me something. I insisted that, "I should buy YOU something, Mrs Choi."
But she dragged me to a shop and made me pick out a nice minty red t-shirt.
I'm wearing it now, so I smell like a salad with stinky feet.
3 hours before the my Midnight Run begins in earnest...over the Indian Ocean and into darkest Africa.
I arrive early tomorrow in Johannesburg, where it's sunny and wild. It's going to be a brand new day, and I arrive on the threshold of a whole new summer. It's barefoot fun and sunny swimming pools and parties for me. Not going to think about work for at least a week, longer if I can manage it.
So if you find less news and pictures here from now on (although I'll do my best to bring updates when I can) you'll know why.
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