Monday, March 4, 2013

March 2 - Saturday - Farewell to Freetown

Photos: http://www.facebook.com/media/set/?set=a.10151359104996961.1073741826.562066960&type=1&l=edfbbe8017
We had to be out of the hotel by 11:00 a.m., so got up, had a continental breakfast in the hotsl, showered, arranged all our stuff, and went for a walk around Murray Town. It seemed there were more churches, and NGOs than anything else!! But, it is a hectic place with lots of yelling, and shouting, and horns blowing. We had lunch in the Oasis Juice Bar and Lorraine from the Hotobah was kind enough to have her driver take us down to the Government Wharf for the ferry around 1:30 p.m. Not surprisingly, everything we had been told about the ferry was wrong. There was no coach to pick us up, it was $40 not $30, then it was $45 not $40, it didn't leave at 3 as we were told, but left at 4 instead. A lot of bull shit goes on, and people try to force themselves on you as if they are the authority. Anyway, Ray had a battle, but eventually was able to go to the ticket office and purchase the tickets. Then our driver, who thankfully stayed with us, drove the car over to the ticket office and as soon as he opened the trunk about four guys pounced on our luggage. I litterally pounced on them, yelling in an angry voice that they were not to touch it!! You hear stories of luggage disappearing from under your nose!!! With the help of the driver I got it all into the terminal while Ray was negotiating the ticket. The next thing you have to watch is that your luggage actually makes it to the ferry! What a country!! Because we thought the ferry left at 3 we where there around 2:30, so had plenty of time to spare and enjoyed a quiet beer listening to some of the best West African music we have heard. I relaxed a little when I spoke to a lady who was also going on the ferry for a flight to America.You can just never be sure that things are as you are told!!

The ferry ride was about 45 minutes and then we got a coach on Lungi over to the airport. Well, that was another "swarm". When we got our stuff off the coach, the porters in uniform and a bunch of guys out of uniform darted out all over the luggage like ants carrying off food. Once again, eventually Ray was able to get a cart, pay the uniformed porter 20,000 leonies, and we made our way into the terminal. The final straw was a policmen staged at the door into the terminal who tried to extract some money from us.

 By the time our luggage was checked and we had our boarding passes, we heaved a sigh of relief, and waited calmly for the plane to arrive and lift us up high over Africa to Brussels. I am writing this on the flight from Brussels to Newark, and have no idea if our luggage will make it, and if it does if it will be intact or if the padlocks will have been broken and the bags ransacked. Small world, but the Norwegian chap we met and his son were on the same flight. He was successsful in getting the roof on the house before he left. We chatted with a Danish lady who divides her time between SL and Denmark, an English guy, and an English speaking women who was visiting on business. People are so friendly out here, and you just end up talking and sharing stories and experiences

 

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