Baggage That Can Weigh You Down

I repeated a scene today at the Cape Town Airport from Barbara Kingsolver’s The Poisonwood Bible. In fact, I took it to the next level. Kingsolver’s character’s are smart enough to the check the luggage weight limit before they got to the airport, I on the other hand, assume I will not even be close. Guess, I picked up a couple souvenirs two many from the wine farm.

I arrived to the airport about 5 hours early, thanks to a great friend that offered me a ride from Wellington, so I did not have to take the train. And because I was not taking the train, I would not have to manage my luggage (car, cart, plane), hence the overabundance of food and drink items I felt free to bring that might otherwise have weighed me down.

I got up to Mango’s counter, after carefully repacking some more items (food) acquired along the way, and smartly double checked that I could take on 6 bottles of wine- as it was a domestic flight to Durban.

Three.

Three, really? Are you sure? I was told six.

Told, smold.

So I not so happily trotted outside to the bubble wrap department and paid to have 3 bottles bubbled and skipped right back into the counter.

So, I can carry on all three of these?

Got the head nod, thumbs up and expected to see the counter agent waving me in with the neon lukeskywalker saberish traffic control lights when I was told there would be an additional charge for the overage.

It seemed I was 8.5 kilos over…17.6 lbs and it would cost me 240R ….40USD for my oversight. In light that my ticket was only 320R, it seemed ridiculous to pay so much for a bag.

Um…really? Can’t you just pass it on by and give me a ‘Hey we’re glad you came to our country to volunteer’ type thing? (yes, I know…I volunteered on a wine warm. It was still volunteer work!)

She looked at me and suggested I try repacking.

Entered amped up Poisonwood Bible scene.

I first decided I must off load my books, the ones I was hoping to give to someone who wanted them or resell them back to the used bookstore in Joburg. I found a woman at the tourist counter, who after calling her supervisor to make sure it was okay to accept my contraband, thanked me for the 4 books. (-1ish kilos)

I then started my repacking by finishing my Stoney ginger beer, baguette with mouth watering salami and goat cheese on the assumption that they couldn’t weigh me. Next, I went to the ladies room and opened my Ceres white grape juice and drank as much as I could (I can just see the pride on my father’s face) and poured the rest in my water bottle hoping security will over look it. Then I started to take out items and stuff my pockets. I mean stoof! Wallet, glasses, ipod, camera, journal, pens, phone, chocolate bars (had to be counted), and headphones. Then I pulled out my fleece and tied in around my waist, and tied my jacket on top of that, stuffing those pockets as well. Place my hat on the head, and hung my sunglasses over the neck of my shirt, as they looked ridiculous on, inside and would most likely fall off if resting on my hat- causing me to have to bend over to retrieve them whilst other items would follow suit from my pockets and expose me to the authorities as a crook. Lastly, I put more things in my basket that previously just held my backpack, hoping they would only weigh my backpack and not look into my bag.

I was ready.

I returned to the counter, a new ticket agent was behind the counter, yet the same supervisor who naysayed my volunteer line was still on duty.

I smiled and handed over my ID. I slightly panicked and thought the jig was up when she asked for my credit card that would require unearthing from my over burgeoning pockets, yet managed to dig it out without incident.

22.5 kilos! I had managed to offload 5.5 kilos…most of which was secreted on my body. I held my breathe as I waited for her to comment on the 2.5 overage…yet she just kept asking about my travel experiences while beautifully multi-tasking my bags on through to the conveyer belt.

Hurray!

Next step security.