flee the empty nest

The flight on Olympic air to Greece was full of quite funny incidents, not thought so at that point in time, but on retrospect. I was hungry and very thirsty, as I had only one cuppa that whole day, and when the hostess asked whether I would like something to drink, I decided on red wine, so as to relax my tensed-up nerves as well as quenching my thirst. When the food eventually came, my whole body felt like an overcooked piece of spaghetti, and after struggling for ages to get a piece of meat on the tiny fork, and managed to get it to my mouth, my lips wouldn't comply, and the meat fell straight back onto the tiny plate. On noticing the disgusted looks of my neigbour, I decided to leave the food and save the roll and cheese for when I sobered up. After about an hour I felt much better, and after devouring the roll and cheese, I tried to make a bit of conversation with said neigbour, but he just grunted and looked me over with loathing, I suppose thinking me a drunk, so I wished him to Jericho, and tried to sleep. I had an isle seat, and when he later shook my arm to get out for a wee, I faked deep sleep until the hostess came to his salvation, and this time it was me that grunted, but with glee, when he hurried purposefully down the isle. After that we ignored each other even more.

At the airport I was upset when the immigration officer told me that I could not go through, but instead had to sit on a chair along the wall. Everyone on the flight was so sympathetic, but on glancing at my travelling neigbour, the look on his face said clearly that he was right in thinking me a criminal all the time. After a few minutes a man fetched me, and he was at least smiling, calming my nerves a bit, and made me sit very comfortably in the transition hall, where I spent half an hour watching the world go by, until a very beautiful young man approached me, asking: 'You Christina du Preez', and I nodded, and he said: 'I take you', and he was so handsome, and smiled so gently that my bally libido went sky-high, I threw caution to the wind, and breathed: 'Yes!'. Must say, the libido fell drastically when he could hardly lift the heavy bags with which I ran the streets of Cape Town for two days before leaving them at the train station for safe keeping.

He was taking me all over Athens, and I was a wreck after only minutes. The Greek drivers are hellish! First we went to Faliro to pick up the Captain, then we went to Pireas where we had to fill in about twenty forms in triplicate, then we had to have photos taken. I must say, I have a lot of respect for the Greek photographers, as this one first studied my face intently before he adjusted the lightning, and voila, id photos that actually looked like me, not like the one on my passport where I look like a very sad and hungry horse! Then we had to go to the Department of internal affairs, where another lot of forms had to be faced, then to Faliro for all to be stamped, then back to Pireas where I got my permission at last to work in Greece as a seawoman! By five o,clock we were finished, and on our way back to Faliro where the family were waiting on their yacht. I was tired, my eyes feeling as if a bag of sand was emptied into them, and at this stage I only wished for a bed!