The thing I remember most about the flight is flying over Egypt and being terribly excited to see the Nile. I prodded the Sage, who was asleep, and told him. He made a sleepily polite *pretending to be interested* sound and went back to sleep. He was awake when we arrive at Addis Ababa airport, however, and we all filed out on to the tarmac while the plane was refuelled. This is still the only time that I have stood on the African mainland. A small plane lay crumpled a little way away – apparently, it had overshot the runway some days previously, crash-landed and they’d not got around to moving it yet. I still appreciate that relaxed attitude.
We landed again, can’t remember where – presumably it was in Mozambique or South Africa, and a number of South Africans embarked. The landing at Mahé was interesting – the airport, which had only been opened the previous year (replacing a much smaller one) was built parallel to the shore so that you felt that you were approaching a narrow landing strip by the sea. Which you were, come to think of it, though I’m sure it has been widened since. We were sprayed with insecticide before landing – apparently, there were no poisonous creatures in the Seychelles and no malarial mosquitoes, and they wanted to keep it that way.
The Sage’s brother had visited the islands the previous year – he had a friend who had moved there and had gone to see him – and recommended it as the most wonderful honeymoon destination he could imagine. And indeed, it was gorgeous. From the moment you stepped off the plane into the warm tropical air, it was a delight.
Many jumbled memories here, and maybe I’ll write them down one day. But for now, there it is – the story of when the Sage and Z were first married.
Tomorrow, something for Valentine’s day, and then normal service (ie general wittering on) will be resumed.