After a very emotional couple of weeks of parties and
partings, I finally left Sudan yesterday on a 6.30am flight. I was driven to
the airport by Griselda’s driver and was immediately pounced on by a porter who
helped me carry my large amount of luggage into the airport building. He asked where I was going and then delivered
me to the correct window. I checked in
my luggage, including my viola and then sat in the very drab waiting area. Various staff came at intervals to ensure I
got to the right departure gate. The departures
lounge is old and shabby with no duty free area although there is a small cafe.
What next? I don’t know. I need to plan my next phase and will spend the next few weeks looking at what I am going to do. ‘Inshallah’ it will be something similar to what I did in Sudan. This is the last post in this blog, as I move on to a new phase.
What Sudan lacks in modern efficiency and comfort they
certainly make up in individual care. As
I have found travelling elsewhere in Sudan, although all signs are in Arabic
and people speak little English, there is almost always plenty of help
available. I do think they are missing a
trick not having shops at the airport though, as it would be a great place to
catch travellers who want to buy Sudanese gifts for relatives at home while
waiting for their flights.
I had booked a window seat on the plane and was very glad I
did, as I kept bursting into tears each time I thought about my new Sudanese
friends, left behind in Sudan. I was
able to turn away and look out of the window so at least I was saved from
making a complete spectacle of myself.
I transferred planes at Amman. The airport is newly built and very modern. After Ed Damer and Atbara, and even after
Khartoum Airport, it seemed like a different world. However, the duty free prices were also in a
different world and all thoughts of buying small gifts for my grandchildren
were quickly dashed. The announcements were made in very good English as well
as Arabic, which felt very strange too.
Then I took my second plane onward to London. In spite of travelling at the most civilised
time of day (leaving Amman at midday and arriving in the mid-afternoon UK time)
it was the emptiest plane I have ever taken.
Most of the rear seats were vacant and even towards the front where I
was sitting, I had an empty seat next to me.
Once I arrived at Heathrow I went to reclaim my luggage,
only to find that my viola had been lost.
I went to report it. The member
of staff handed me a form to fill in, checked my luggage receipts for the
number, and told me that she would check with Khartoum and Amman
immediately. When found, it would be put
on the next flight to Heathrow and I could expect a phone call at 3pm tomorrow. She asked for an address so it could be
delivered to me. She was very apologetic for the inconvenience, which (as I pointed out to her) was not her fault at all. In the event, the phone
call came at 8.30am today to tell me that my viola had been found at
Amman. What efficiency! The word ‘inshallah’ (God willing) was not
mentioned once in the whole conversation!
A timeframe was given without me having to ask. What a contrast with Sudan where even the
English teachers struggle with telling the time and the chances of getting a
definite time for any event are very slim.
As I had no winter clothing with me, I had asked my
daughter-in-law Amelia to come to the airport to fetch me bringing winter clothes. I knew that she would be a couple of hours
late as she was on a course during the day, so I settled down with my mobile in
the warmly heated airport and called various friends to tell them that I was
back. It was fantastic to have my
Blackberry fully functioning after so many months in which it has refused to
provide any internet features at all.
Amelia arrived with a bag of my own winter clothes and warm
boots. Then we took my luggage on the Underground
to their new flat, which I hadn’t seen before.
It was raining slightly and the temperature was about 10oC,
which felt very cold indeed to me. Everything looked so grey and drab after the bright sun of Sudan. Even our fellow passengers' winter clothing was dark and dull. It all looked very bleak. Roll on the spring and summer which are so necessary here!
The
flat is above a shop in Hammersmith, close to a parish church which I used to attend
years ago. It will be nice to see people
there again after so long. It feels so strange to have limitless hot and cold water and
heating. I soaked in a hot bath, which
felt luxurious after my cold water showers in Sudan, and after the rather grim journey through London.
Griselda has very kindly offered me her flat in London as a
base, so I will be moving there in a few days and will be able to leave my son
and his wife in peace.What next? I don’t know. I need to plan my next phase and will spend the next few weeks looking at what I am going to do. ‘Inshallah’ it will be something similar to what I did in Sudan. This is the last post in this blog, as I move on to a new phase.