These stories are personal diary entries I wrote about true events from my travels abroad. This particular day starts at the end of a 9 day tour of Egypt. I was exhausted from being up for 24 hours straight, & had spent that time running around Cairo trying to fix my phone that I had broken in the Red Sea the day prior.
Ramez, my tour guide, was accompanying me in the taxi back to the hotel to get my suitcases. We arrived around 1:45am & my friend Shelby, who I had been traveling with from the US for the past month, was waiting impatiently for us. We were running a bit late, but quickly packed up our things & the tour company’s car took us to the airport. I was fading fast, so I took the 20 minute ride as an opportunity to recharge. My flight wasn’t until 6am, but Shelby’s was at 5am so I had to leave earlier.
We pulled up to Terminal 3 & our driver dropped us off to a completely desolate airport. At this point it was around 3am, & the only other people there were the two guards sitting at the entrance. We walked through the doors & immediately started looking for a kiosk to print our tickets. Shelby was flying to Thailand, & I was flying to Morocco en route to Ghana to volunteer. Unfortunately for me, I only had the memory of my flight information to go off of, because I didn’t have my phone. But it didn’t matter, there were no kiosks open to help us anyways. So naturally, we started to worry a little bit. Our flights weren’t even listed on the departure boards & to top it off, everything was in Arabic.
So, as any good traveler would, I asked for help from those two guards at the gate. But of course, they didn’t speak English. I was in the middle of trying to gesture our question to them when a taxi driver walked by & told us he could bring us to the other terminal. According to him, our airlines were located at Terminal 2.
Feeling relieved we hopped into the taxi and told him our flight information. He was sure Shelby’s flight was at Terminal 2 but had to call a friend to check if mine was also. It probably didn’t help that I remembered the airline being called “Moroccan Airlines” when it was actually called “Royal Air Maroc” but this is where the story starts to take a turn.
As I mentioned before I had spent the entire day in Cairo trying to fix my phone, which meant I had taken a lot of taxis & knew how much they cost & how they worked. However, this driver didn’t know that yet. I noticed we were starting to drive around the airport in circles after a few minutes and asked if we were close. He told me it was just a little further away & ended up dropping us off at some back entrance parking lot with not clear signage indicating it was Terminal 2…
We weren’t sure if it was right, but we were sure this guy was not going to be any more help to us. So, I asked how much it was going to cost & this man had the AUDACITY to tell us to pay him 50 American dollars for a 5 minute ride! To put this in perspective, a normal 20 minute taxi in the city cost me around 2 American dollars or 20 Egyptian pounds, earlier that day. I don’t know what happened, & looking back I do NOT recommend this approach, but this triggered something in me. Flabbergasted by his greed, I told him there was “NO WAY I was paying that much!” I explained that I knew what a taxi here actually cost, & pointed out that his own meter only read 16 pounds for the trip! He kept fighting me back & forth, making up some scam about airport transport usually costing 80 dollars, blah blah blah… My friend was starting to get scared at this point, as I should have been, & tried shoving the money in my hand to give him, but I wouldn’t budge. But then he did something I hadn’t anticipated…
He started BACKING UP THE CAR. To which I started yelling at him to “Let us out immediately!” I opened the door as he was moving, and Shelby forced me to pay him off. I stubbornly gave him 10 dollars & 100 Egyptian pound, which was less than he asked for, but MUCH more than he deserved. And you know what he said with a smile on his face as he unloaded my bags for me?! “Have a nice day ma’am!” Are you kidding me?! Have a nice day?! I was seething inside knowing how happy this con artist felt, but tried to calm myself down a bit as we got to the entrance of the alleged terminal. SURPRISE! It wasn’t even the entrance to Terminal 2. We walked a few minutes further, & eventually got inside, but you aren’t going to believe it…
Shelby’s flight wasn’t even listed on the board & mine was listed for the wrong time! Now the panic really started to set in. We needed to talk to someone for help desperately, but all of the people working for airlines were on the other side of the first security checkpoint. There are several of these in Egypt, & you needed a printed ticket to get through, which we still didn’t have. What kind of system is this? Shelby was in the middle of pleading to a security guard to let us through when I noticed a man in an Air France uniform walking through the checkpoint. I quickly ran up to him & he ended up being our savior. After explaining the situation, he informed us that Shelby’s plane did take off at Terminal 3 all along, & when he walked us outside to show us where it was, my heart sank. It was literally 100 feet away, we could have walked the entire time, & definitely did not need a taxi…
Feeling dejected but relieved she found her way, we hugged goodbye & I went back inside to wait for my flight. The airline counter still wasn’t open, so I opened up my laptop & killed some time until 4am when I should have been able to go through security towards my gate. To my discomfort, the departure board still had my flight time posted at 7:30 instead of 6. I couldn’t wait around anymore not knowing, so I convinced security to let me go through the checkpoint to talk to someone at the desk… & unsurprisingly at this point, no desks were open this early. I walked all the way up and down the different rows, & eventually noticed someone come up to the desk for their shift. Excited, I ran up to them & started explaining my situation. Luckily, I was able to find my flight information in my saved emails via my laptop, & he informed me that the flight was indeed delayed until 7:30. Well, at least it wasn’t cancelled I thought, but I was still exhausted. 24 hours had turned into 26 hours & my eyelids didn’t have much fight left in them. Because of the delay, that also meant we were delayed to go past security, which meant an hour stood between me & coffee, & I wasn’t sure if I could make it…
I spent the next hour pacing, rearranging, sitting (& then getting too comfortable & almost falling asleep so I would find a new seat), going to the bathroom (I did this 3 times even though I didn’t have to go just for something to do. I ended up actually falling asleep against the stall on the last attempt so had to give up, & woke up in a panic unsure if I had slept through check in or not). Luckily enough I only had 10 minutes left to go. Everyone started queuing up & I genuinely think I walked through that whole line with my eyes closed. But finally, I had my ticket!
I breezed through security & got my coffee right away. I got 3 shots of espresso in my chai latte & it only slightly helped. The next task was finding a way to get in touch with my parents so they didn’t think I had died in Egypt. I got to my gate, sat down, & tried to connect to the internet. YOU HAVE GOT TO BE KIDDING ME! You can only access wifi if you have an Egyptian number… who has an Egyptian number in the International Terminal I thought. None of the people I approached did, that’s for sure. As a last ditch effort, I approached this sweet Brazilian girl for help, & she suggested I ask the guy at the coffee stand for help, she even walked with me to ask. He was a little reluctant to input his number at first, but once he did, he quickly received a code so I could have wifi. All was good until… OH NO.
Mom & Dad were going to have to wait, because I had… Oh God this is embarrassing…
DIARRHEA
And it was not waiting for anyone! I quickly threw on my gigantic backpack & lugged my suitcase across the hall to the nearest restroom, but honestly, I was a little late. God I hope my future husband never reads this. Feeling disgusting & delirious I threw out my underwear, cleaned up as best as I could & walked back to my seat to call the family.
It was midnight at home, but they were very relieved to see my face. I immediately jumped into how my phone was dead for good, that the wifi connection was only temporary… they seriously only allowed 30 minutes per phone number, & that my flight was delayed to Morocco, blah blah blah. They were understandably worried, but I reassured them that I would be fine once I got off the plane in Ghana &… then the wifi cut out. Great. Knowing this was only going to cause more panic on their end, I ran up to the guy at the counter & asked if there was anyone else he knew I could get a wifi code from. At this point I think I was just a good break from his shift, so he called his girlfriend & got a code from her. I was so thankful I gave him my last 45 Egyptian pounds as compensation, as well as a requested selfie because he had never met an American before. Weird, but he had earned it.
Anyways, I sorted things out with my parents & the guy actually came back to take a video of me saying “I loved him.” I didn’t know what to do, so I awkwardly said it under my breath as I packed up my bag in a hurry. Red-faced from this encounter, I boarded the virtually empty plane in every row except, of course, the one I was assigned to. I made sure I had a window seat so I could hopefully sleep, but I was also sitting next to an old couple who BOTH had knee issues & couldn’t get up when I had to pee. They were so sweet & kind though as I literally climbed over them back & forth from the restroom… I don’t know who it was worse for honestly. But low and behold, 6 hours later, I arrived at Casablanca airport. Now it was time for my very exciting 12-hour layover because that is the price you pay to get cheap flights sometimes. You would think this is where my story ends, but I promise, it is just getting started.
Upon arrival I immediately found a Starbucks to get some work done on my computer. But of course, the airport wifi was down for the day. After an hour of searching, I finally found a sushi restaurant that had wifi & sat down. I spent the next 10 hours eating sashimi & chatting with the random Canadian man sitting next to me. He is probably the best part of the story, because he taught me about Vodafone portable wifi boxes, which were essential to my survival while volunteering in Ghana but I’m getting ahead of myself. Time flew by faster than expected & it was suddenly 2 hours before my next flight was to board. I packed up all of my things & headed out to find my terminal &…
You seriously aren’t going to believe this, because I barely could at the time, but my flight was AGAIN, not listed on the departure board. To my dismay however, it wasn’t just listed at a delayed time, there were no flights leaving Morocco to Accra(Ghana) tonight AT ALL. ‘This can’t be happening, this can’t be happening…’ I thought over and over again, there had to be a mistake. Holding onto some shred of hope, I asked a random security guard to look at my ticket & help me find my gate. “I had to have just been in the wrong terminal” I justified in my head. But the man looks at my ticket & simply says “Ma’am, this ticket is for tomorrow at 10pm.” Excuse me, WHAT?! I read it again, & cursed my tired brain for not noticing this sooner! What was I going to do? I didn’t know anything about Casablanca, & definitely didn’t have it in the budget to put myself up in a hotel for the night! Frazzled but determined I walked to the nearest Royal Air Maroc counter and showed the clerk my email proving I had booked the correct ticket for TONIGHT. She seemed confused, looked over her records, & informed me that the flight had to have been booked wrong & I would have to stay in Morocco for the night.
Tears quickly started pouring from the corners of my eyes as the extent of my sleep deprivation & helplessness set in. I maintained what resembled a smile as I thanked her & walked away towards the accommodation offices. All I wanted in that moment was to call my Mom & hear the comfort of her voice assuring me everything would be alright, but that wasn’t an option. I waited in line & thought of nothing else but wanting to go home & give up on this solo journey I had thrown myself into. I looked like Eeyore standing there with my head down, completely bent over by my 30-pound backpack. I have never felt so defeated in my life. Eventually, I got through the line & Royal Air Maroc confirmed my nightmare. I couldn’t stop myself from sobbing as the clerk handed me a sheet of paper to meet with the American representative in the airport.
That was when my day started to finally turn around. I met with a man in his office, showed him my passport, told him about my situation, & was hooked up with a night stay at a hotel nearby, along with breakfast, lunch, & dinner at the buffet. I was thankful to be an American citizen at this point, but I won’t lie & say that I was back in a good mood after this news.
I made it to my hotel room after an hour or so, & the door lock was torn off… I got a new room after talking to reception & contacted my volunteer agency to let them know I would not be arriving on time. I got into bed & passed out immediately. Hopefully, tomorrow would go A LOT smoother. I had officially made it through the longest day of my life, I could do anything now.
MADELINE COVID-19 SUPPORT EFFORTS
Madeline is making handmade sweatshirts and sweatpants & sets and giving 20% of her proceeds to families and businesses affected by COVID-19. She was recently mentioned on the “Pretty Basic” podcast with Alisha Marie & Remi Cruz. She started this small business because she lost her job in NYC & had to move home. You can order yours at madx1of1.com and keep up with their donations on their Instagram @madx1of1