Stilgherrian (@stilgherrian)

Wentworth Falls NSW AU

The below is an off-site archive of all tweets posted by @stilgherrian ever

June 28th, 2009

Precision Air is completely misnamed. Just be warned.

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Replacement replacement tickets arrive. They’ve been double checked as correct for the 2050 flight. 3 hours to relax.

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Replacement tickets are issued. 2 out of 3 are for the wrong flight. Try again.

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Actually, “stuck” in Zanzibar is a fail full of win.

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The 1700 flight has gone we were not on it. Boarding pass confusion. Stuck in Zanzibar. Comprehensive fail.

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Loud argument in Swahili ensues.

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Zanzibar airport. Alive.

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Still alive. Bonus. That, though, is what I’d call overtaking on a blind crest, with ox-cart.

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Chickensgoatsbananatreesscootersfarmersmosquechickensgoatsmanwithmattressonbicyclechickemsgoatsit’sablur.

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OH: “You know, he is going to get us killed.” That was the guy next to me.

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That mudbrick hut has a 2m satelite dish.

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Fark! Um, that village speed hump seems to have served its purpose. No-one hurt. Did I mention: this minibus has no seatbelts.

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Eating fresh charred corn while not-speeding to the airport. I’ll explian the drunk village policeman later. Maybe.

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I agree, the crows at this fishing village are the fattest, happiest crows ever.

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Erm, we’re going to look at the fish markets? WTF?

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We have an hour to get to the airport, 5pm flight to Dar es Salaam. We are not, I repeat not, driving too fast on a rural road.

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The entire school sang a welcome. Then we met the village chief, proud of the new school.

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Avoiding the ox cart, turning off to visit a nursery school.

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Passing farmers with produce on their bicycles. No faster than the speed limit, no Sir.

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Driving north again, very fast. Because we detoured to a clove farm and ate fruit. I am sure we are not speeding.

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I have a magic Zanzibar clove ball which will “improve relations”.

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Mud huts, thatched rooves. Cows rest betweem banana trees beneath coconut palms. We have arrived.

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Police checkpoint. Waved thru. Brown and white cow cow pulling a cart.

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Our driving speed seems no slower than before.

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Um… pulled over for speeding. Watchmen chat with sergeant. Tells us to drive safely, waves us on.

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Black cows graze on an empty soccer pitch carved out of the bush.

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North out of town, market stalls, donkey carts, chickens, abandoned half-finished homes.

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Winding thru streets of Zanzibar Town, avoiding old men on motor scooters, children, bicycles.

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In a minibus, passing vegetable farms, battered concrete flats, an immaculate white mosque, tethered cows grazing on roadside.

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Breakfast done. Zanzibar’s masala tea is a delight.

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Zanzibar tip: coff

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Meanwhile I’ll sit on this balcony and write up my notes, until the sun rises over the Indian Ocean. Without internets.

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We spend Sunday touring Zanzibar projects, meeting those on the ground and who they work with.

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0415 Can’t sleep now. Being phone-interviewed by Sydney Morning Herald 0600. Can’t get any photos to them yet.

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Erm, that was twin-prop. And as soon as I have real internets I’ll post some longer bits and photos, as respond.

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Then Cessna Titan tion-prop to Zanzibar to be briefed by the ActionAid team here. PowerPoint is a universal curse.

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Met at airport by Reza, an ActionAid Tanzania “logistic assistants”, or “watchmen”: driver / translator / protector….

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Yesterday was a blur of travel. Sydney to Bangkok to Nairobi to Dar es Salaam by commercial jetliner, then…

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It’s my second day in Tanzania, but I still has no internets… at least not on this balcony at the, um, beach resort.

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Emerges. Not quite 4am local time in Zanzibar. Half-awake from jet lag anyway, I’m fulley wopken by a sudden rainstorm.

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Starting to unwind, finally. Tomorrow: my turn to fill their heads with too much weird shit. [exit]

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I’m really wondering what this mad bunch of tweets looks like from the outside. With no feedback it feels weird.

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Tomorrow (today) it’s ActionAid office. I’ll worry about internets then. Our driver Tom collects us at 0900.

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No internets for more than 2 days. It’s nearby, but no time to organise it.

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Whoever imagined there’d to time to reflect, let alone write (including me!) had no idea how packed the program would be.

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Midnight. Brain exploding. Seen enough in one day for a month of writing. Weird, just this one-way thoughtstream.

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11.45pm. How tragic, another apartment overlooking the Indian Ocean. I’ll wake to the sound of waves at dawn.

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Roadside video odverts for painkillers.

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“Everybndy Everybody” by… Rozalla, was it? This is on Choice FM, Dar es Salaam.

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Our driver takes us into Dar es Salaam for the first time. The Bee Gees “Staying Alive” pumps.

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Touchdown Dar es Salaam.

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Hurrah! A twin-engine turbo-prop, high wing. 5H-PAR. We’ve boarded. Transmitters off!

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Who needs Twitter? A man imagines he sees something in the dark. “it’s landing now!” Words ripple around the room.

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The Man in the Green Shirt says we’ll have an aircraft in 20 mins. Precision Air, huh? Everyone looks very tired.

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The boarding passes are OK. I guess. How can tell? Also, ddpart time is in 6 mins, but no sign of an aircraft. Am I fussy?

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Reading boarding passes carefully.

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Ah, I remember this airport. And these security people remenber me. We’re old friends now.

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I can thoroughly recommend the local blend of sugar cane juice and ginger.

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We are all now ignoring Albert’s “plans” and following Lena’s orders and full of octopus.

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This fail is full of fresh seafood from street stalls at dusk. Also, some tourists.

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Do I need to explain again why I’m only communicating one way via SMS? I’m in Zanzibar with no Internets.

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The summoned watchman has arrived. Headed to Stone Town for sunset and dinner.

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