First post: A business-as-usual flight.

Originally written down October 19, 08:00

Yesterday I woke up in my apartment, packed my flight luggage and got a call from JT that he was on his way to do a pickup and drop me off at the airport. I arrived somewhere around 10:45 and having already checked in through the website, it was a simple procedure of dropping off my suitcase and run off to the boarding terminal.

I happened to pass the El Al checkin desks, which were pretty much cordoned off with not just the usual security guards, but soldiers toting MP5s (thanks Half-Life, I recognize a gun because of you). Probably due to the incident with the nutball who tried to stab two police officers to death, but then again, charming policies as they are, it probably wasn't too far off from the usual security measures.

I tried to grab a no-nonsense digital camera, which turned out to be impossible because none of the models either fit my idea of a portable camera or just looked like the bastard lovechild of an acer notebook and an ipod dock. I guess I'll have to find one in Surinam. Also cute: they don't sell gum anywhere in the boarding terminal. I never noticed this oh-so practical ban :)

Boarding was pretty painless, by no small amount due to the fact I got seated in business class. It was a definite departure from the cooped-up sensation I'm pretty much comfortable with, and there's certainly something surreal about getting a wine list upon departure. I'm probably not the kind of person they aim this at, because I find it remotely ridiculous to be served wild hen in truffles while I'm traveling. You won't hear me argue about the seats though. Finally, room to stretch. They had a pretty crap selection of movies and the harpy in a stewardess' uniform promised equally unimpressive titles that were actually intended for the return flight (but us oh-so-elite business class people naturally wouldn't have to be subjected to such cruelty). Instead, I took some short naps, watched a movie on my laptop and pretty much idled away the 8 hours. I did obtain a couple of gin and tonics from the immensely nice drink trolley lady, who was a bit clumsy with the ice cubes, which tended to bounce around my seat a bit.

Arriving at de Zanderij, the warmth enveloped me like a sweaty handshake. The airport was partially under reconstruction, but looked more derelict than under construction. The sign that told us about the modernization looked worn, peeled and definitely had been around for a while. I guess it's one of those "someday" projects.

I got out of the airport and ran into a huge crowd, barely contained by officials, and immediately I noticed the lack of any sign that people from Spang Makandra were here to pick me up. After some confused wanderings about, people started to address me, either offering taxis or trying to help me. This was somewhat tricky as I had no money, no telephone numbers and calling the office in Amsterdam would have been fruitless (it being midnight there). I just stuck to my spot and kept gazing around the crowd for the next half hour.

Turned out Vincent was doing the exact same thing, a bit off my left. Joel was kind enough to pass him a photo of me passed out in the toilets at Breakpoint 2007 -one where I had long hair, so it wasn't really what you might call a representative picture of me. Once that was out of the way, we sped off to Paramaribo to meet up with Wouter.

Once we arrived I had some time to freshen up and we compared notes a little. He's been documenting the bejesus out of things, so I got phone numbers, profiles, progress reports and whatnot to rely on. Vincent picked us up for some supper, had some idle chat about the next day and went to sleep at what felt like 4:30 in the morning (which was definitely the case for Amsterdam).