From one airport of chaos to the next

Waking up late on my morning of departure from Stavanger, left me running for the gate at the airport. Unfortunately reaching the plane before it left was a short-lived relief: with less than 24 hours between returning home and leaving for Georgia, I was in a constant hurry. With the help of Mum all my clothes were cleaned and dried in time for the next round of packing.

By midday I was back on the road. After five hours of train travel I was back in Copenhagen Airport again. Because of the surprising number of scouts at the airport it was hard to work out who my fellow travellers were going to be. Many scouts were coming home from the camp I had just left and others were leaving for exotic destinations like myself.

The six of us were an unlikely bunch: a young ex-soldier and a university student were to guide myself, a supermarket employee and an odd couple of friends (consisting of an, at times, cynical 35 year old and an aging man in his late 50’s early 60’s).

Brief introductions aside we began our trip to Georgia. Once seated on the plane we waited 30 minutes before it took off, making us late for our connection in Warsaw. This however turned out not to be a problem as the Poles were also running late.

We arrived in the Georgian capital Tbilisi at 4 in the morning, dead-tired and ready to drop. Watching the baggage carrousel spiral into eternity without the appearance of my rucksack was therefore not what I was hoping for.

Admitting defeat I headed for the helpdesk where a large, grumpy woman with very little English jotted down my details. This was to be the beginning of a long and painful ordeal to get my luggage before we moved on. Once rested we met up with some Georgian scouts who helped me call the airport to find out more about my luggage. There was no news. The next morning the Georgian scouts rang the airport again giving them the address of a friend I have who lives in Tbilisi. I was told that my rucksack, at this time still in Copenhagen, would arrive that evening, by which time we would have moved on. The leader of the trip therefore took me clothes shopping.

Just as we got hold of the last item on our list we got a phone call saying that my rucksack had arrived at the hostel. So all’s well, that ends well.