Paranoia at the Maasia Mara International Airport

August 2, 2011 in Boomers, Places, Travel

Sally Franz

As I was ending my Safari resort vacation, I was very thankful that we had successfully secured a van ride to the airport. But as my friend Jane and I headed across the dirt road that was marked with open sores of mud three feet deep, I began to wonder how I would really know where our amiable driver is actually taking us. How would I know if we were going to the airport or an isolated ambush. My New York City paranoia began to kick in. What was I thinking? I had no cell reception. This guy likely did not have a license. If something happened, I might have to defend myself against someone with a gun or a knife and running away was not an option. All I could see was the open savannah of the Maasai Mara plains in front of us. Even if we had to run for protection, Jane could do 8 minute miles and lots of them! Me, I would be lucky to do one 12 minute mile and probably not all of it! This paranoid fear I was experiencing might explain why some people have that annoying habit of running 5 miles every morning. Were they secretly preparing for an unexpected run across the desert? I wonder, hmmmm?

At last the van stopped. I looked out and saw nothing that looked like an airport. The driver jumped from his seat and quickly unloaded our bags. Assuring us the plane would be arriving any minute he said a cheery farewell and drove off. The ‘airport’ was a wind sock on a flimsy stick and a three sided bus station sort of hut made of parched wooden planks. The runway was mostly dirt with a disintegrating patch of asphalt at one end about the size of a hopscotch board.

Masai Mara Airporr

We were surrounded by open land, a beige the color of bottled turkey gravy. From the hills in the background I was sure this was the same area where days before we had taken a hot air balloon ride and upon landing were surrounded by staff with large rifles to shoot any hungry lions. I tried positive thinking. I was Meryl Streep in “Out of Africa”. I would be fine, after all I was waiting for Robert Redford to land. But as I watched the clouds of dust behind the disappearing rumbling van I wondered if that sound alone made the saliva glands water for the nearby wildlife. We gathered our things and stood in the shady corner of the “boarding area”. I was afraid to speak and hoping the wind was not blowing our scent toward prey. It was at least 98 degrees F in the shade so the likelihood of a scent was 100% and the sun wasn’t even fully up. We drank all our water and waited.

An hour later we heard a screeching sound in the air. It was either our plane or a bird of prey. I was so hot I really didn’t care which it was. I did recall thinking I would hate to be eaten after I shaved my legs! But when if it comes to things like that, I guess I just go with my Mother’s training, take care of yourself and assume you’ll have somewhere nice to go, perhaps out to dinner. Yeah, vs. say being someone’s dinner, Mom?

Mt. Kenya

I knew enough about small planes to guess there was not enough paved runway to make a landing anyway and the scenes in my head went from “Out of Africa” to “The English Patient” in the desert. Much sputtering later a plane hit the tarmac and slid sideways over the runway made of packed dust. Stones flew at us like scattered shot. There were streaks of oil along the fuselage. Not comforting. But at least we might get something to drink on board, say before a crash. I boarded the plane which was approximately the size of the ones you see being controlled by a remote switch at a father and son picnic.

Our take-off started on the dirt and as we pick up speed we hit the last few crumbs of hardtop and we had lift off. Soon majestic sightings of Mt.Kenya were in view. The snow capped peak all but made me forget about the smoke that was coming from under the wing!

Sally Franz

Sally Franz is a motivational speaker, corporate trainer and author. Her newest book, about contracting an auto-immune disease (Transverse Myelitis-TM), which threatened to leave her paralyzed is an Amazon Best Seller: “Scrambled Leggs…a snarky tale of hospital hooey”. She is an avid gardener, artist and world traveler. And now she is about to venture out on her 26th move since the age of 20. Next stop? Portland, Oregon.