I shared much of my marathon return journey from Kalangala with resident African travel genius, Karl. Showing a cool familiarity with the idea of a seven-hour stop at Jomo Kenyatta International Airport in Nairobi, he led me to the SAA business class lounge. That's where the adventure began...

The business class lounge allows those with business class SAA (and partner) ticket holders and Diner's club holders free access to the lounge. If you're not that rich, you can also pay $30 per person for three hours. Being an old hand at such things, Karl organised $60 for both of us for the whole day.

So far, so good. I had $41 left, which had me covered, but Karl didn't have anything. No problem - let's just put it on a credit card, eh? What do you mean they don't take credit card?!

Okay, there must be an ATM around, eh? Nope, none in the international area. And neither of the bureaux de change could exchange from credit card. I guess this is where most people would exclaim ``Well, this is Africa, right?''.

The advice received was to leave the international section, get the cash, and come back in. Cool - another stamp for my passport (Karl's collection has me downright jealous). Getting in is simple if you're a South African - just swipe your passport and get a stamp.

So, we're in the baggage claim centre, with two or three bureaux de change to choose from. Barclays sounds like a trustworthy international bank to use, so we head that way. We explain that we want some dollars, and that's simple enough, until Karl brandishes his credit card. No, no, we have to go outside to the main area to draw money and then we can exchange the Kenyan shillings for dollars.

Okay then. Leave baggage claim, draw cash, and exchange to dollars, no problem. Since we'd left baggage claim, we couldn't go back that way. Off to international departures terminal, which means a walk outside.

Outside is the cleanest airport surrounds I have ever experienced. Not a single item of litter in sight, a number of bins, and a few signs about how cleanliness is a national duty. Of course, this doesn't mean there's a culture of not littering, but it sure was a good impression. Oh, wait, there's the terminal...

Get past the irritable people manning the security scanner equipment (who were sitting around not looking at us when we just waltzed in and then realised that we had almost escaped their power zone and made us do it all again...), and on to customs.

``Boarding pass?''

Uh, okay, right. In Entebbe, they didn't seem so keen on giving me my boarding passes all the way to Cape Town, and it seems Karl had a similar problem. The SAA counter in the international transit section was closed (but hey, I'm used to SAA's service sucking) when we went passed to get our boarding passes. And SAA's counter in the international departures was unmanned too. With much feigned confidence on my part and I imagine sheer practise on Karl's part, he convinced them to let him in, and I guess I just followed on his coat-tails.

Back to the lounge, pay them off, and lie down to five and a half hours of calm in the middle of the 34 or so hour transit home. They have a number of large couches, where a good ten or so people or so tried (successfully) at various times to nap between flights. Oh, the joys of "premier" lounges, little snack foods and free drinks (including some decent alcohol, although that's not recommended when attempting a marathon transit).

Apparently, they have "The Internet", while they don't have wireless, they do have "sockets" for laptops. What they do have is one computer with the sole ethernet jack in the room, riddled with spyware and (at the beginning) the slowest connection I've seen since I was in junior school connecting at 9600 bps. Unplugging the computer and stealing its IP address (DHCP gives an IP that can't get out) gives you some private and safe access, but don't expect a miracle.

In all, reasonably harmless misadventure + genius idea = a moment of sanity on my journey home.