Day 01

Departure for Brussels, we will return with E. – the journey has begun – light thoughts, in fact, very little sleep in Athens where N. joined us from Thessaloniki. Late at night. Here we go. Brussels. Transit then Freetown, Africa. Three suitcases for the two of us and one suitcase for D., who has already been in Sierra Leone for two months with a seven-month-old girl. With N. taking D.’s suitcase down. During the monsoons, it doesn’t rain all the time, but when it does, it really pours – D. informed us. Our third suitcase is mostly for the nanny Mariatu, with ‘stationery’ for the children. We’re also bringing powdered milk, diapers for Electra, an electric water heater, camper pots, cream biscuits, in short, supplies and equipment that we’ll consume during our stay – basically, this third suitcase isn’t coming back to Greece with us. In an hour, we’ll reach Brussels. This trip feels short to me – considering the 6 hours that will follow, perhaps. There was a time when Athens – Paris or Paris – Athens was my only flying experience. The trip felt long enough, in short, the right scale. So, in my mind, a shorter trip meant a domestic flight, therefore a less valued flight – a longer trip belonged to others, so it was indifferent. Extra legroom. It’s nice, I can stretch my legs.
Here is the flat country, the capital of Schengen, the Grand Place, the Manneken Pis – we are in transit at the terminal – I’m looking at the Belgian tourism office’s communication. The flat country is well organized – fallow land, cultivated fields – hamlets then villages, then very industrial areas, then woods, and then we land.
As soon as we reached the airport terminal, we had already changed continents. On the plane, the white passengers seem the most tired but friendly. We crossed the skies of France, then Spain, then the Mediterranean, and then nothing – the plane’s GPS seems to have stopped at Morocco… geopolitical coincidence or just a technical glitch – it still shows us the distance, we have 1700 km left to cover before we reach Africa.
Africa. Just as jokingly expected – not all the suitcases made it with us from Brussels. One is missing. Tension. Warm weather and low clouds. Arrival – lots of hands offering to sell SIM cards, local currency, transportation. We need to hurry to catch the shuttle. A 15-minute pause in a waiting room with us, a German couple with their two children. Four and eight years old, perhaps.A bus takes us to a pier – first impressions. Before boarding, near the beams, two little girls are begging. Shuttle. The crossing of the bay lasts 25 minutes – in the shuttle, the German couple’s children give us courage. It’s night, almost eight o’clock. Winds at force 5. At the dock, the same routine: SIM cards, transport offers – the hotel driver is waiting for us. The city streets are unlit. We drive along the ocean – Atlantic Hotel. The Chinese are already here. Room 209. A double bed and a child’s bed. 2 power outages, a glass of red wine with a chicken burger, then rest.