Ten years.
That’s how long it’s been since we left South Africa to live in the Czech Republic — and somehow also ten years since we last went back for a visit. No pressure, then.
Leaving Prague
Leaving Prague came with mixed feelings. Excited, nervous, slightly unsure… but as D-Day crept closer, the excitement definitely won. You know that feeling where you’re not sure how you feel until you’re already halfway out the door? That.
Anyway, a wonderful “client” turned friend (check out her blog too) took us to Prague International Airport, and as most Europeans do, you make sure you never travel without food in your bag. Naturally, Bernice and I had to stock up.
And of course, that’s when the classic travel snack disaster struck. After some minor scavenging, I found the ideal treat and handed it to Bernice, saying, “You’re going to love these!”
She looked at it as if I’d handed her a live fish, which I couldn’t quite understand. When I looked inside, I was totally surprised — expecting sweet little cinnamon buns, but instead… salmon wraps. (Side note: Bernice + salmon wraps = nightmare fuel.)
Obviously, I had to fix this error. Can you even imagine trying to eat salmon wraps on a 10-hour flight, with toilets I usually don’t fit in? We laughed so hard just thinking about it.
With snacks safely (mostly) sorted and our excitement still buzzing, we boarded the quick flight to Frankfurt — just a short, one-hour trip.
Prague to Frankfurt: The One-Hour Squeeze
We were on a Condor Airbus A320, and as soon as I saw the seat, I knew I was in trouble.
Trying to squeeze my fat ass into that narrow little rectangle of misery was a full-body workout. I wiggled, twisted, and somehow managed to buckle the seatbelt while holding my breath and praying no one was watching.
By the time I sat down properly, I was a little traumatized… and still clutching the sweet treats we’d just bought. The only sensible solution? Hand them all over to Bernice. She looked at me like I’d just gifted her gold.
We eventually settled in, blissfully unaware of what awaited us in Frankfurt, when the announcement for descent came on. Go figure.
Arrival at Frankfurt Airport: The Fitness Test
I would just like to say, with love, that Frankfurt Airport is not an airport, it’s a fitness test. We walked for a full hour just to reach our next gate. An actual hour. Luckily our layover was three hours before connecting to JHB, otherwise we’d still be there now, circling Gate Z-Somewhere, questioning our life choices.
Next time we’re booking a shuttle, a golf cart, or possibly a small donkey to transport us across that place. We were done. (And yes, even with the walking escalators).
Eventually, we reached the next gate, ready to board for Johannesburg.
While checking our boarding details, we noticed the ticket said NO MEAL. Yikes. Clearly, we needed a backup plan for a long-haul flight.
Bernice, the expert shopper, took charge — heading off to take photos and WhatsApp me food options while I supervised from a distance (I love shopping). Limited choices near our gate landed us with simple ham and cheese rolls, because there was absolutely no way we were walking back to “Gate Z”.
Finally, we boarded, seat anxiety firmly in place.
Condor Flight to Johannesburg (Airbus A330-900NEO)
We boarded the aircraft and immediately noticed it was brand new — shiny bits everywhere.
First move? Check the seats.
Relief hit instantly.
Miracle of miracles, I fit comfortably. Seatbelt clipped in with room to spare. No extender required. I’m counting that as a personal victory.
We settled in. I was thirsty. I opened some cooldrink for a tiny sip and, yep — it erupted like a volcano, exploding all over me.
Instantly wet. Instantly sticky. And, of course, people were still boarding, so I couldn’t move. I just sat there, marinating in cooldrink until take-off, and then waited again for the seatbelt sign to go off so I could finally waddle my way to the bathroom and wash my shirt.
To add insult to injury, there were no air-con vents above the seats, so I spent the first part of the flight sitting in a cold, wet shirt — which, to be fair, actually kept me nicely cool. Bernice, meanwhile, was perfectly comfortable, watching me stumble through the whole situation and having a good chuckle at my expense.
And despite our earlier panic at Frankfurt, we did get food on the flight. Honestly, though? The rolls we bought ourselves were better. The inflight meal was gnocchi with ratatouille sauce and a side of pickled carrots. This did not go down well.
The plane itself was impressive. Every seat had its own screen — proper 4K — and you could connect your own headphones via Bluetooth, which meant no getting tangled in the cables in your sleep. There was Wi-Fi if you needed it, USB-C and USB-A charging ports, and enough personal space to actually stretch without poking the person next to you. Small victories, people, small victories.
The seats were a little firm, but manageable. They had this clever two-tray setup: the top tray for electronics — with little grooves to hold your phone upright — and the bottom tray for food. Only problem? The food tray didn’t play nice. It slid out too far, which for anyone with a larger stomach meant it didn’t fully open. So I ended up holding half of my meal on my lap like I was in some low-budget balancing act. Not graceful, but it worked.
Finally, we were greeted by a friendly face and whisked off to get settled, which for now meant Pretoria.
Next up: SA #2: Pretoria Heat, Greek Feasts & Checking Under Pillows (Eek!).
Stay tuned.
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