Last stop in Tanzania

Alas, Saint Nicholas made a unilateral decision to go to the airport by bus, so I didn't get an easy trip to Mbeya where I was to stay a night with the Bros before flying out the next day.
Last time at the bus station it was dark and raining, this time it was light and raining. As I sat on my bags sheltering against a wall with my brolly covering as much as possible - an exercise in futility when the rain drops bounce half a metre back off the ground - I vainly tried to contact Bro Michael who wasn't on WhatsApp for some reason. In the end I managed to contact the Procurator in Mvimba who organised a lift to the House for me. There are only 3 monks resident but all were happy to see me at supper that night.
Next morning Bro Michael took me to see their farm, which is right behind the main house. The pasture feeds the cows who appear to enjoy his company, (might be different if he was a friar though,) and they keep chickens, ducks, rabbits and turkeys.
Bro Guido, the Brother Superior, wasn't going to show me his workshop but I barged in all the same. As soon as I admired the traditional wood-working bench which I not seen in use in Tanzania we became good mates. Turns out he built the thing himself. Since 1970 he has been turning out these little marquetry boxes for use as tabernacles. They are precisely made and I congratulated him on being the only cabinet maker in the country as most workmen seemed to be happy using their legs as a vice and living with the slipshod results. He was chuffed was Guido and so he should be.
Well Michael the ex-mechanico, (as he claims,) says is happy to take me to the airport in his sports car for a mere 30,000 TSh and I am happy to give him his outing as I can't be bothered with another bus. He charged me another 20,000 for accommodation which took me by surprise because I was just getting used to being treated as a guest of the Monastery! But they too have very little money to keep the place going so I wasn't too worried, especially as its about Euros 7.
A rather subdued performance from a mechanico I thought but then it was raining again as we drove to the airport. Corona fever had reached even this far and staff were being made to wear those rather ineffective and uncomfortable paper face masks. The security man even checked every mouth entering the terminal with a digital thermometer. My main concern was trying to get into the place without a ticket: I was told that all I needed to check-in was my passport and indeed this was the case until now. The door guard was having nothing of this and summoned an airline rep to come outside and print me something, which she duly did.
At check-in we discovered that the flight to Zanzibar was Zahn Air not Air Tanzania, even though both appeared on the billing as Hahn Air. As far as I eventually worked out, Hahn is a booking company. This meant that I couldn't check my bag through to Zanzibar and I had 30 minutes to change terminals. Air Tanzania gave me a phone number to call and Mr Reuben said he would arrange for the plane to wait.
Well I arrived 5 minutes before take-off - I could see the small plane on the tarmac - but the lady refused to get me on it. It seems that she has a problem with Mr.Reuben who it turns out works for another company, Coastal, and presumably made some unwelcome advances to the young Zahn Air lady. My famous charm turned her round and she booked me on a later flight with yet another carrier - for another USD50. In the end I arrived at the Malinda Hotel an hour later than predicted.Read more