Sunday, 6 July 2014

Here it comes, up in smoke and gone

Clearly I've been putting this off. Probably under the misguided notion that I would end up coming back. Foreign roads beckon. Time for one last parable.***

The immigration official riffles quickly through my passport, barely registering the dozens of stamps. He looks up suspiciously, checks his computer screen, smiles, and lifts his stamp.

"Where is your destination?"

"Colombo. Sri Lanka"

He pauses, flicks through my passport, stopping to examine each little oval entry stamp

"You are a Rwandan?"

"Er... No".

He consults his screen and looks again through the stamps.

Pearl Lounge, Kigali International Airport.

Is it worth the $25?

It's exactly how you'd expect it to be: selection of tea and coffee, Inyange water (what else?). Small versions of the cheese sandwiches you can get from the bakery at the Umubano. Electric sockets in the floor promise the opportunity to charge your various electronica, but fail to deliver on that promise. There is a vague smell of jet-fuel and burnt rubber. Or is that just me?


He finds a space and applies his stamp with a thud.

"You have been visiting in Rwanda many times. Why don't you come to live here?"

Later I count my exit stamps. I've visited 36 times.

"I think this will be the last time"

Thanks to:

The Don
The Surfer
The Dude
The Young Ambassador
Everyone at the Chez Lando Hotel
The Cheap Wine Lady
The Philosopher
The Coach
Le Sappeur

The Director

Thanks for having me.

True places never are.


Patricia said...

I actually came here in the hopes of finding a review for that new Italian Restaurant. I did not find that but I did find more.

36 times!.. thats a heck of a lot of visits, you should come back sometime or I will never know what happened to that Italian Restaurant.



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