Finally In Sana'a. The plane is about to land on an airstrip missing half its tarmac. Everyone on the plane crosses their fingers and begins their prayer to which ever God they may believe in. I begin to sweat profusely. The air strip seems to be roughly 600 meters long. Long enough to land a paper plane no doubt... but Im flying on one which is surely double the length of the runway. The adventure begins. Im flying Yemen air.....comforting then when rattling noises mean the wheels are out and ready to kiss the tarmac perhaps one last time. The seat belt lights flash on and off,perhaps the electrical wiring has seen better days, or maybe its an arab tradition to do and undo ur seat belt as landing approaches. The rattling noise increases, almost to a deafening level. We are now 100, 80, 60, 40, 20 meters to........TOUCHDOWN!!!!!!!! The plane lands as gently as an 800 kg ballerina attempting a backflip... I open my eyes and uncross my fingers. Either we made it or heaven is one hell of a let down. No, we made it Im reassured by a hostess as keen to get off the plane as I am. Im looking for the airport but all I can see is a tiny little building who's sign reads S N A A PO T.
Either its an anagram or its missing a few letters, I decide on the latter and as I descend down the rickety plane stairs I head for the building. Surely it cannot be the airport...its 10 x10 meters and there are people yelling and pushing each other into a claustrophobic cue where I am handed two leaflets in arab. I think Im supposed to fill them out so I can hand it to the guy standing in the cubicle chewing on some strange grass. Only problem is I cannot speak arab...so... where do I put my name and so on? I decide to fluke it, start filling out random info such as my favourite colour and which pop band I prefer and as I smile my way past the AK 47 guard also chewing on the strange grass, I hand the leaflet to the cubicle guy. He reads it, gives me a strange look, like.... YOU DO KNOW BULLETS HURT RIGHT?...but decides Im probably mentally ritarded and therefore not a major threat to Yemen, so after looking for the appropriate stamp for about ten minutes, he stamps my life goodbye, the guard puts the safety catch back on the AK and Im given the green light to proceed. I'll skip through how long it took me to retrieve my luggage and fast forward to having hugged my cousin and making my way to his house in the taxi he has waiting outside. The taxis in Yemen are recycled from post world war 1. Some are missing doors, some rear view mirrors, some have wobbly wheels just screaming to be set free, and all are rusty beyond the point of recognition. This does not however deter the drivers from Impersonating Michael Shumaker ( forgive the spelling) as they scream down pot holed roads at maniacal speeds. There are no road rules in Yemen,either than the bigger car wins the right of way, and the boldest driver takes home the loot.
We make it, somehow, to Lex's pad. Its early morning, I havent slept in three days and Im beginning to hallucinate. I must however remain awake just another 12 to make sure I get over the jet lag. My first day is a blur. All I remember is almost being run over on an average of 5 times a minute as we walk the streets to find some food. EVERYONE IS STARING AT ME. Could it be Im twice the height and width of your average Yemenese, or the deranged look on my face as I try to stay with it just a few more hours. We eat, I mumble something to Lex and all I recall after that is hitting the bed.......hard!!. Yemen will indeed be an interesting place.....
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