Flying Stress and The Exclusion Generation
I am not writing about the fear of flying here. Instead, the stress brought about with flying during the digital age, further made worse with Covid-19. It was bad enough before Covid-19 to ensure you had the correct visas and documentation to allow you to fly to your given destination. I am writing this on the first leg to Vilanculos, on our flight to London. Yes, we fly to London then back over Portugal to Johannesburg. Our daughter Storm flew in to join us yesterday in Lisbon as it was some £800 cheaper starting in Lisbon rather than from London. Although the flights are to Johannesburg, our flights take us back to London as we are using British Airways (BA). This saving includes Storm's flight from London to Lisbon. Who can understand airlines’ charging methods? Certainly will defeat any logical arguments in saving both cost and carbon footprints.
The real challenge, of course, is having all documents for Covid-19 in place. That is, a digital PCR test, EU vaccination certificate and a passenger travel log for each transit destination. The EU vaccination passport and PCR are not such a problem with us being able to print them before departure at the hotel. We had the PCR done the day before departure in Coimbra, the result e-mailed to us. Of course, that is only easy if you have a digital device to do this. Many older, less fortunate and those internet deprived by location do not always have these devices. My concern is for the older and the digitally illiterate; I fit both categories, including perhaps being even a bit dim. I can manage emails, so PCR is not a problem. In addition, you need to be able to access a printer. As we all know from experience, Africa likes paper, that is, hard copies. It is advisable to have at least three hard copies of all documents when travelling to Africa; any paper offered is taken, often not to be returned barring your passport. The next thing is to complete the passenger locator form. Every country requires this. The British version requires your seat number, which cannot be obtained until your medical documentation is reviewed as you check-in. If left blank, you will be required to fill in a new form once you have checked in. Again, how does the digitally challenged manage this? Anyway, for us, we have the reliable Rozanne, who is our ‘digital wizard’.
“Many of the new digital au fait generation limit our inclusion due to our lack of newly required skills and tech knowledge.” - Peter McSporran
Once at the check-in desk, we informed the clerk we were flying to Vilanculos, you could see her eyes taking on a look of despair despite this destination clearly apparent on our ticket. I am sure a grimace accompanied this; of course, the masks hide this facial expression. False smiles cannot now be disguised as everyone looks at the eyes of each other rather than the mouth, which remains hidden behind a mask. Anyway, once discovering that Vilanculos is in Mozambique, the female clerk then said that we required a letter of invitation from Mozambican Immigration. What the f@4&? Seemingly this was flagged on her screen, our new rulers in this modern world? So now an argument. Rozanne and I are travelling on our British passports, before travelling on a Zimbabwean passport would have been no problem. We argued to at least let us fly to Johannesburg, where there would be no such issue.
After consultation on the internet, we pointed out that on the Mozambique Government website, visas can be issued upon arrival, the clerk then agreed to issue our tickets. Yes, for a while, during the height of Covid-19, Mozambique required visas before departure. Obviously, BA is not keeping its records up to date. Who has the stress, the passenger? Or the female clerk who became more distressed the closer and louder I spoke to her? Without us arguing it would have been a definite no on us boarding.
Yet another anomaly arose, Rozanne and my luggage booked as far as Johannesburg, while Storm’s was booked right through to Vilanculos. Why? Once again, something to do with the digital tickets despite all being bought and issued through the same travel agent. Rozanne and I will need to exit through customs in Johannesburg, collect our luggage and recheck in for our forward flight there, while Storm will pass through transit only. Luckily South Africa has a handwritten passenger locator form. Something you can do once onboard the plane. It is easier and can work just as well, if not better, in many parts of the world.
All this digital stuff is confusing even for someone like Rozanne. Equally, we still have to carry a hoard of documents in hard copy for Africa. Due to BREXIT, we now have to carry our digital residence certificate for Portugal to avoid getting a stamp on entry and exit from Portugal. A stamp means we would be limited to 90 days on our return, despite being a resident. Once in the system, a nightmare to reverse, we are reliably informed by friends who allowed the stamp in error. Yet another thing to be wary of. I already had an issue with digital documentation last month in obtaining my new driving licence. The semi-retired doctor filled in my digital medical report declaring that I needed glasses for driving despite having an optician’s report stating otherwise. This change precluded my license to be issued through digital means. A small change in any box can bring confusion so easily, resulting in frozen screens. Luckily a local driving school with the knowledge to correct this resolved it for me.
So how do the elderly and dim-witted deal with all this I say? Maybe like me, rely on others? There are always people held up at flight gates nowadays due to not having some elusive form or test with the correct QR (Quick Response) code. Yes, proof of the document being bona fide is generally the presentation of the QR code on the required document. For those not in the know, the QR code is a three-dimensional bar code originally created to track parts and vehicles in the Japanese motor industry. Now it is used to track us, and I am sure all of our details. If I can read the menu at our local restaurant through the QR code on the table on my cell phone, I am sure others can read our details through our now multiple documents containing personal information through the QR code. Yes or no?
This narrative, now being written in-flight from the extremely quiet Oliver Tambo airport in Johannesburg. Where have all the South African Airways planes gone? I know they are bankrupt. Does that mean someone has already grabbed the planes as none were seen?
In South Africa, they checked our Covid-19 documents on arrival and departure. In transit through London, nothing was checked, including our passenger locator form. Next stop, Vilanculos.
Writing this paragraph after arrival at Vilanculos. The digital visa machine was not working, the visa application was delayed. The immigration officers had been instructed they can only issue visas digitally, not by hand. Another one and a half hours delay.
The Farming Year
Following the Salisbury Show in August 1972, I returned to the farm for my first full farming year. It may have been before the show, Hamish at that time used to have an annual weaner sale of all his youngstock from the home farms and Portlet Estate. I cannot remember the exact figures, but I think it was about a thousand head—an exciting day with much group selection and sale organisation. The sale was conducted by Scotty McDonald, the auctioneer, a well-known character in the Rhodesian farming world, under the watchful eye of Robbie Isaacson, the patriarch of H. Shapiro and Company. We did not finish cattle for slaughter on Umzururu at that time. In fact, we sold the maize crop not required for the dairy and rations to the Grain Marketing Board (GMB), loading the maize at Nyabira rail siding. Even tobacco and milk could be delivered by rail then, as were cattle to the Cold Storage Commission (CSC). Nowadays it would be stolen before the train arrived, it certainly would not arrive intact. The system does not work anyway, as it once did. I met two of my neighbours from the north of the railway line who became friends in loading maize. Robin Gilmore and Peter Horsman, the latter a great friend. Both started as ranchers in Matebeleland, more recently having become crop and cattle ranchers in Mashonaland. Unfortunately, they are now late, Peter died of cancer in Portugal six years ago.
The other event was a cattle field day. The main purpose seemed to me, was to demonstrate how good bulls and management can improve poor-quality cattle. Hamish’s non-pedigree cattle had all been bred from local indigenous cattle. By the time I arrived, it had been many years before his commercial beef herd consisted of good Hereford cross-type cattle achieving excellent weaning weights and high fertility standards. I was to learn later that the local breeds had very good fertility traits, they just needed some beefing up to produce the ideal carcass for export.
After these events and the show, we started preparing for the next season. All of the arable land had to be prepared before the rains which I was told could come any time after the 20th of October. Farmers are always wishful thinkers. Therefore, the land would have to be prepared by that day with most of the maize dry planted before the rains. The ridging and fertilising were done by tractor while the planting was all done by hand. I learned poorly covered maize seed was quickly eaten by the francolin and guinea fowl, a sure way to raise the boss’s ire. Wild pigs and rodents would also have a field day if the rains were delayed.
“Farming is all about timing and attention to detail. Yes, a cliche for many tasks, but a must to be a successful farmer.” - Peter McSporran
Seed maize land preparation was the same, except planting of the seed took place after the first good rains, commonly known as planting rains. On the red soils at Umzururu, this required a couple of inches, except the seed maize we planted in the lighter sands across the Umzururu river where an inch of rain would suffice for germination. Planting seed maize was a pressured process as sometimes the males were planted after the females so you needed a few days of moisture to ensure germination. Weather forecasting was not too accurate in those days. Without irrigation, the rain was always in our minds. Generally waiting for it, but at times, although rare, praying for it to stop. That year there was a request from the Seed Co-op to plant extra seed maize well after the start of the rains. The fields were waterlogged. We did it all by hand, marking out the planting holes with hoes and chains, hand fertilising and planting in the rain on Christmas Day. That is why I remember it so well. Mahri, the foreman, told me while carrying out this task that we would be disappointed as it was too late to plant maize at that time of year in Nyabira. He was correct. I am sure Hamish knew this too, only planting to help the Co-op out. We also grew foundation maize which required roguing. During this job and detasseling the hybrid seed, I got to know Mike Caulfield well. He was my first inspector, having met him the previous year only briefly. I lived in fear of Mike’s visits, although appreciating his thoroughness and knowledge. I followed him for miles looking for that elusive missed female tassel he was always sure existed. Once found he was much calmer, even chatty. He was to become a very successful maize breeder in later years. We had an excellent seed crop that year except for the crop we late-planted. Our SR52 was reputed to be the best in the country that year. I do not know how, as I was never able to replicate a similar yield with SR52 seed in the future.
A Bent Aeroplane
Midday after spending some time going around the Iringa area with Rick Gauli we set off for Ngwazi airstrip with trepidation as we had received a report from the guards there that our plane had been moved in the night. How could this happen as the pilot had the keys? On arriving on the strip, sure enough, the plane was now at ninety degrees from how we left it the day before with the chocks now some distance from the aeroplane. Even more worrying, excuse me for the lack of proper technical terms, the left tail wing (I am told horizontal stabiliser) was bent up about 45 degrees. On querying the guards more scrupulously, we discovered some drunken rabbit hunters had run into the plane with their vehicle overnight. They were long gone. What to do? The correct decision would have been to leave that plane and request a replacement allowing engineers to check our aircraft. This would have delayed our whole trip by some days, not only in travel time but getting flight clearance. So what did we do? We bent the tail back down into place and broke all the rules of flying. The pilot then took off and did some fancy aerodynamic moves, announcing on returning to land, we could continue. Peter Shepherd did mention that if the stabiliser bent upwards again or even fell off in flight, we would surely crash.
“Make sure the professional you seek advice from is sane and sober. Too many are not.” - Peter McSporran
Fortunately, the plane did not fall out of the sky and was therefore deemed safe by the pilot for us to continue the journey. On boarding, we took off to be immediately enveloped in inclement weather. It was to get worse and once over Iringa, we had huge cumulonimbus clouds surrounding us with no obvious safe passage around them. We were now flying over 12,500 feet in an attempt to avoid the clouds. To no avail. In fact, we had stayed at this altitude and above, beyond normal safety regulations without oxygen. Something we also repeated on the next legs. Our fearless pilot decided we should fly right through the massive formation between us and our destination in Dar-es-Salaam. Well, a real rollercoaster ride ensued, not knowing what was up or down. All the time battered by rain supported with lightning flashes and peels of thunder. Incredibly as we left the Tanzanian Southern Highland mountain range, we suddenly flew into clear air. The pilot immediately asked Peter to take the controls while he gathered himself for the landing. I was desperate for a pee, so filled an empty plastic water bottle before we landed. What an experience, we were not even halfway into our trip.
About five years later I was on a Queen Air flight, flying back from Mbeya on the same course to Dar es Salaam when we saw similar weather ahead. The more prudent pilot circled rather than entering the storm until the fuel alarms had stopped sounding and the automatic voice warning came on declaring, “Land immediately, low fuel!” rather than fly through what looked like much smaller storm clouds than we experienced that day in December 2008. Of course, luckily I had not read about the dangers of light aircraft into cumulonimbus clouds until after the event. Peter had. On landing, he said we should not need to worry about our horizontal stabiliser after that. We only learned when we got back to Lusaka that the strut supporting it was broken. Maybe a combination of the vehicle collision and the storm? Unfortunately, we were to duck and dodge many storms on our onward journey blissfully unaware of the fact that the stabiliser could have fallen off at any time. The three final legs of the journey next time.
Hope I can get this posted, the internet is very poor here in Inhassoro.
Disclaimer: Copyright Peter McSporran. The content in this blog represents my personal views and does not reflect corporate entities.
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