Adventures in Africa: Comoros

I ended my evening last night with dinner at my guesthouse, which must have one of the very few fine dining establishments in all of Comoros. It is called Cafe Dhow. 

I ate a seafood appetizer . . . 

. . . and a fish entree. 

After dinner I turned in, but unfortunately during the night I was woken up suffering from food poisoning. Figures it would hit me in Comoros, the poorest country I am visiting on this trip, and among the dirtiest places I have ever been to. Whether it was the dinner last night or something else, I do not know--for all I know it may have been something I ate in Ethiopia, but anyway here I was.

Still, although I was really not feeling well, this morning I still wanted to see the Moroni market before heading to the airport and I figured I should probably try to eat something. So I walked outside into a damp morning and down the street. I passed people beginning to queue for petrol. Ahmed told me this is how people get their fuel for cooking. Seems very tedious as they evidently had to wait a long time and I got the impression this may be close to a daily routine.

I walked through the market, which was somewhat interesting, but I did not take any photos. Eventually I wound my way to a cafe where I ordered croissants and a coffee. As I sat here it began POURING rain, which was quite something to watch, and I was very glad I was under a roof!

I waited for the downpour to subside before heading back, but the sky was still very ominous for most of the way!

At 10:00 Ahmed picked me up to drive me to the airport for my flight to Mayotte. I was still feeling very unwell and have to admit I was not having a great attitude about Comoros. At the gate to the airport my mood was not improved when the gate attendant began fighting with Ahmed, evidently telling him he had to pay to enter. I have no idea if this request for payment was legitimate or not, but the interaction was clearly unprofessional and obnoxious. Eventually Ahmed turned to me to tell me to pay, but I felt this was absurd given the amount I was paying him for my transfer and I refused. He apparently also felt it was absurd, because he did not argue and instead began fighting again with the attendant. Finally, he handed over his cell phone, presumably as a deposit of sorts, and I assume they worked it out on the way out once I had paid Ahmed and I was out of the car. Often these sorts of interactions amuse me, and I suppose it was kind of amusing, but given how unwell I felt I was largely just unimpressed and when Ahmed said something about hoping I come back to Comoros some time I have to admit I unintentionally scoffed.

I checked in, went through security, and sat sick and sweating in the airport lounge area without air conditioning waiting for my flight. 

Since I had some leftover Comorian francs and needed to hydrate given my condition, I bought three bottles of water from the cafe in the lounge. I drank one while I waited and intended to take the remaining two onto the plane with me. So much for that: as I went to board security officials told me I could not bring the water. Since I had bought these bottles after going through security I was quite put out by this and protested. They then told me if I had a receipt it would be ok. I burst out laughing. I have a hard time believing most Comorian businesses ever issue receipts, and certainly I had not received one for the water. I boarded the plane leaving the water bottles behind.

Obviously, food poisoning can happen anywhere, and less than 24 hours somewhere is an entirely inadequate amount of time to create a fair opinion of a place, and touts and corruption and bureaucratic inefficiencies and absurdities exist all over the world, so I should not be overly harsh about Comoros. I am sure if I had left healthy my feelings would have been much more balanced. But, as it was, I cannot say I was unhappy to be leaving for my next destination.