2. Flying out

Before my exchange I read a lot of blogs about other people who were on exchange, and one of the things I noticed was that they always skipped right over the part of how they got to their new country. “Yeah and then I got on the plane and it was nice, I had to race to get my connecting flight and when I got off my host family was there.” I think I read one or two blogs where the description of the air journey was as detailed as the rest of the blog. Well, I’m going to describe my flight in detail, because I feel that it is part of your whole journey. It’s not just a means to get there, it is your introduction into exchange. Because your flight is the first time you are in a strange place, with different languages being spoken all around you. It prepares you for the rest of the year.

So, let’s start in South Africa. We arrived at the airport and got my baggage wrapped, then I went to stand in line to get my technology certified (basically saying that you bought in in South Africa so that you have proof that you don’t need to pay tax for it when you come back) But then I was afraid that I would be late to check my baggage in, so I left my friend Carina to stand in the very long queue while I, my mother, father and RYE chairman Gavin Schachat went to check my baggage in at the emirates counter. But then… my baggage was overweight by 5 kg. And the fine would be R3687. So, now we had to unwrap one of my bags to take things out and leave them behind. The culprit was my vanity case. Everything we had bought two days before had to come out – shampoo, vitamins, cream, lotion, perfume, you name it. But that wasn’t enough. Then I still have to take out my slippers and one jacket, which I greatly regretted because it's winter in Spain and European winters aren’t the same as South African winters, even if they are Spanish!

But luckily after that everything was smoother sailing. No fine had to be payed, my luggage was booked in, the queue for the certification of technology was the wrong queue and the actual counter was empty, so we that got done in a jiffy. More friends arrived to see me off. We took photos, my Rotarians left and we all went to Mugg and Bean.

At 17:10 I had to go through The Gate. That’s where they do a final security check and you have to say the final goodbye to your people. No one cried, but I had a feeling we were close.

After my carry on luggage was cleared I waved a final goodbye from behind the glass. This would be the last time…. I turned around and disappeared behind the wall that led to the corridor that leads to the gates. If I had stayed any longer and seen the people I loved most in the world wave me goodbye like I was going off to war I wouldn’t have gotten on the plane.

Now I wasn’t sure what to do. I knew I had to go to a gate to get on a plane and do the same when I got to Dubai, but beyond that I didn’t have a clue what to expect.

As we boarded the plane I sent a last couple of WhatsApps and made a last Instagram post before we had to switch off our phones. Now I was truly alone.

The plane took off and I found myself smiling as Cape Town, my home, the place I had grown up in, became small beneath me. I took in every detail and stared out the window until I didn’t recognize the landscape anymore.

I had a window seat, on the wing of the Boeing 777. And fortunately the middle seat was unoccupied, so that meant half a seat extra space. The flight to Dubai was good. We flew into the night, so there wasn’t much to see outside. I tried sleeping, but only managed three hours. The rest was spent in trying to find a comfortable way to sit, but never truly finding it.

We landed 3:30 SA time, 5:30 UAE time. I didn’t worry. My next flight was only at 7:25. But I didn’t take into account that we had to get off the plane and then take a shuttle which took us on a joyride to see the rest of the airport except the terminal we had to climb off at (at least that’s what it felt like). And then I still had to go through security, again. My flight boarded at 6:40 and by now it was 6:25 and I still needed to go find my gate and go to the bathroom. And then, just to top it all off, I found out my gate was on the far side of the terminal the shuttle has stopped at. So I had to walk the length of the whole terminal. Putting it simply, it’s damn far.

But, I got to my gate in time, got on my flight(which I was was really looking forward to because I was in the front row next to

the window, so there would be no awkward climbing over). Except I wasn’t in the front row, I was third from the front. I sighed. Now I would have to climb over people instead of just getting up. But how bad could it be? At least I was next to the window.

And then the impossible happened. No one came to sit next to me. It was only when we were in the air that I realised I had a whole row to myself. And the captain flying us was South African, so I really couldn’t be happier.

This flight was much better than the previous one, I think mainly because it was the last leg of my journey to Spain and every moment brought me closer to meeting my family and starting my year in Spain.

This time the plane stopped next to a terminal, so we didn’t have to take a shuttle, which saved some time. But, after having gone through passport control we did have to take an underground train to get our baggage, which I found different. When I got to my carousel our bags weren’t being circulated yet, so I decided to find a trolley. But the only ones available were chained together. At first I thought they were in storage, but then I saw people using them. I tried unfastening the chain, until I saw you had to put a coin in the handle. A euro? No, you had to buy a token for one euro to use the trolley. Okay, fair enough.

The baggage took a little while longer and then, finally, I was home free. As the doors to the outside opened I saw the Francos family – Marcos, my host father, Maria, the eldest daughter and Christina, the second one. Queca, my host-mother was still at work. Carlos, my Rotary “handler” was also there. After greeting everyone (a kiss on both cheeks, starting on the other person’s right cheek) we walked to our car. And there, as we walked out of the airport into the carport, was the first time I felt that it was winter. Finally I could wear the hoodie, scarf, beanie and Rotary blazer at the same time and not start to sweat.

My next post will be about my first days here in Madrid, what I’ve learnt so far and all the places I’ve gone to thus far.