January 12, 2008 – 6:00am (GMT +1) – Lagos, Nigeria
My Father dropped me off at the Chicago Airport on January 10 around 6:00 pm CST. Now, I am half way around the world in the bedroom of what I was told was a five star hotel, in their most expensive room, because it was the only one left. It looks more like a cheap college apartment, the type of place you rent with your buddies when you are barely out of high school and all you care about is the fact that mom and dad can’t impose a curfew on you anymore. Much to my amusement it conforms even more perfectly to the afore mentioned stereotype because the only thing of real value in the rooms (at least the only thing I would consider of value) is the massively huge flat panel TV hanging in what I guess you would call a sitting room. That being said I wouldn’t mind being here except for the simple fact that I am have lost my Dave. I have no idea where Dave Koenig is. I also have no idea where I am, other than being inside the hotel room that is.
The plane flights were completely uneventful, in fact they were rather dull, other than seeing both a sun rise and later a sun set from 30,000 feet in the air, which is I tell you a sight to see. I arrived in London without a problem, wandered around the Heathrow airport, ran into Dave, boarded the plane for Nigeria, watched a movie, fell asleep, and walked off the plane into the Lagos international airport. Here is where the problems began.
After getting off the plane into the airport, a naturally stopped before heading off to customs, to wait for Dave. I knew he had been sitting a number of rows behind me, and since I had disembarked almost immediately, I assumed he was still on the plane. I waited and waited and waited, but no Dave. Finally I thought, “Maybe he beat me off, I’ll go stand in line at the immigration desk. If he is not there he will probably be at the baggage claim.” I followed the signs in the airport towards the baggage claim. Eventually finding myself in the back of a long line to get through immigration. Despite the fact that it was a long line, I could see that Dave was not anywhere ahead of me in that line. I kept looking back expecting him to join the line behind, still no Dave. It took probably a good 30-40 minutes to get through that line. Still no Dave. I went to the baggage claim, no Dave there either. I figured for some reason Dave had gotten his luggage already and gone through, surely he was waiting for me outside, but the signs clearly said that before I could go outside I had to pick up my luggage. So I sat down and waited.
Actually I didn’t sit at all. There were two large conveyor belts unto which baggage was spilling out. One on either side of the room. The problem was that neither one had any type of indication as to which airlines where emptying luggage unto them. At the front end of the room, the end which I had entered the floor was higher, their where five or six stone step leading down to the main floor. I waited at the top of the stairs so that I could have a better look at the room and hopefully spot Dave, also I could see both conveyors and watch them for my luggage. I waited and waited and waited. I got up and walked around the room. I went back. I waited longer. All in all I would say I was there a good hour and a half, very possibly longer. Everyone was emptying out, no Dave, no luggage. Finally I asked someone where the luggage from British Airways flight 75 was. Here is where I found out my mistake . I was supposed to be in Arrival’s D area, instead I was in Arrival’s C area. How I had ended up in the wrong place I don’t know. I don’t remember seeing any other signs than the ones I followed. But here I was. No problem a helpful young man showed me where I was supposed to be. And there sure enough was my luggage. But still no Dave. The room was empty and deserted. But there was no Dave. Outside also no Dave. I looked up and down the street. At this point it was 11:00pm, we had landed sometime around 9:00 or 9:30 Nigerian time. There weren’t many people about very possibly less than 15 people up and down the whole street in front of the airport, and it was very obvious that there was no Dave. As it was a few people were “kindly” trying to help me out. One man came up to me. He was dressed in a suit and was wearing a gold cross. I was wondering if maybe he was one of our African brothers, sent to take me to Dave. He said I should follow him. I asked if he knew Dave Koenig. I asked his name. He just kept indicating that I should follow him. So I followed before I really had to time to digest anything, my bags were in the back of his car, I was in the back seat and he started driving. Then he asked me, “Where to?” Which meant obviously he wasn’t taking me to Dave.
At that point I probably should have made him stop, and let me out of the car, however we were already leaving the airport, and what I thought instead was, I need a phone. So I told him to take me to a good hotel. Thinking that at a hotel they would have phones from which I could get in touch with Dave. The driver told me that he would take me to a five-star hotel. Well that sounded expensive, I said no not anything that expensive take me to a cheaper hotel. Well okay.
So he started driving me through the streets of Lagos. I have been in the down town streets of Los Angelos. When I went there I had heard about inner cities, I had seen movies, I had seen downtown Chicago, and downtown Milwaukee, still I was surprised at the wealth of poverty and the vast amounts of people living on the streets. The part of downtown LA I am thinking about here is just one vast open market place, as if every type of warehouse, from Wal-Mart to Best Buy to J C Penny, had been shipped to and dumped in piles on the tables and inside tiny shops, block after block of piles of stuff. Once the shops were closed at night every spare inch of sidewalk is covered with tents and people sleeping on the ground. LA has nothing on Lagos, the whole city seems to be built of nothing but tin. Especially that first night, driving down streets that barely deserve the name, people everywhere, fires burning on what would be sidewalks in the US, police with what I assume where semi-automatic rifles, I am by no means an expert on guns, and every square inch of ground that wasn’t used for traffic covered in shacks. That was a sight I don’t think I will forget soon.
At one point the police stopped my driver and stared talking to him. They wanted us to get out of the car and take a look in our trunk, I have no idea why. The police officer who was talking to my driver was going to make us get out, but another one came up and told him to let us go. We drove on. Finally the driver drove up to a gate and started honking. This was the non five star hotel. A man came and open the gate, I looked at the hotel, and told the driver okay you take me to the five star hotel. So the driver turned around we back past the police that had talked to us before. To another gate this time the hotel was full no room. Back in the car, back past the police with the big guns again. This time he took me to the Ibis Royale. There they had one room which the called the Presidential Suite. Well okay how much for that, 12,500 Nira, about $120. That sounded cheap for a “Presidential Suite” but a little more than I would normally like to spend on a hotel room, however, I was especially keen on trying to find another hotel room, and hoepfully it was only for one night.
Now to find a phone, let Dave know I was okay and where to find me. No public phone in the hotel. I asked if I could make a call from the phone in my room. Nope but they would sell me minutes on a cell phone they had. So I paid twenty US dollars for 10 minutes of call time. I took the phone to my room, tried a bunch of numbers, none of which I got through to anywhere on. Eventually I gave up, hoped that Dave wouldn’t waste too much time worrying about me, and went to sleep.
So here I sit 7:00am in the morning, I wanted to wait till sunrise before venturing out, and it is just beginning to dawn so I took advantage of the time to write out what had happened so far. Currently I have no clue where Dave is or how to proceed other than going back to the airport and trying to find him. Well I always enjoy a good adventure. I’ll be sure to let you know what happened.
– Matt