Sometimes, the tedium and restraints of bed confinement drive me batty. I long to travel. However, even prior to my present condition, my life’s path never afforded me the opportunity.
Not one to let obstacles stand in my way I booked a “ticket” on Chimera Airlines and landed in Dzaoudzi–Pamandzi International Airport, the only airport in temperate, obscure Mayotte, on a warm but rainy day.
I had to brush up on my Shimaore (French Mahorian), the native language of this French overseas region officially known as Département de Mayotte.
Interesting facts: Thirty-five per cent speak French, the official language. The greater population speaks Mahorian (an African Swahili dialect) Mahorans, African slaves and bondsmen, Malagasy, and Comoreans from other islands in the archipelago. Muslims make up ninety-seven per cent of the country.
I had no idea about this stuff until I began today’s journey. Discoveries like this fascinate me.
Look closely at these selfies I took: 🙂
I rented this suite in the Intercontinental Lagos Hotel. A bit pricy, but hey, in my daydreams I have millions at my disposal. Nice, huh?
Sunbathing in Naut’ile Mayotte, basking in the warmth of the sun (which usually filters its way through the slots of my bedroom window blinds). A lick of salty sea breeze brushes across my lips. It’s been over twenty-five years since I tasted the ocean. (Yeah, I know it’s raining, but I can daydream within my daydreams) 🙂
Back home now in my pretty palace, full of Florida sunshine, sharing my morning vacation with my laptop screen and whoever happens to be on the other side of it.