You should have seen that sunrise...

What is it about a sunrise that can change everything? I don’t mean to sound melodramatic, but seeing it today put me at peace about so many pieces and parts of this trip about which I had been dreading and fretting. I don’t mean to make the entire leg of this trip sound magical, because it wasn’t. I was crammed into a tiny seat in the middle of the plane, next to a tiny girl who managed to somehow take up both her space and mine, with little room left to maneuver about due to the man who decided to take advantage of the full seat recline. I didn’t sleep well, mainly because of the cramped conditions, and could feel every tiny knot forming in my back as I strained to find a position that would allow me a bit of respite. After eight hours of questioning why I hadn’t tried to find a more comfortable form of travel (such as swimming or boating with pirates), someone to the left of me lifted their shade. Through the open window I saw the first light of day making its way through the clouds, and it made my drowsy mind simply stop. The soft orange light met with the deep, dark blue of the still night sky; perfectly balanced betwixt the two was a thin layer of burnt umber. It was enough to make me forget (albeit momentarily) about how uncomfortable I had been throughout the duration of the flight, and really drove home the reality of what I had chosen to do. Again, I don’t mean to be dramatic, because millions of others have traveled to foreign countries by themselves, thousands have studied and researched in places unknown to them- so I understand that I’m not the first to take this type of journey. But until that moment, it didn’t seem to be tangible, real. Even after I had bought my ticket, booked my cottage, was searched and frisked in not one but two airports (side note to others: don’t save the tiny container of yogurt you were given on the plane and try to take it through security in the UK… it might spark an intricate search of your belongings, along with questions about your trip and a swab of your bags to make sure you’re not carrying explosives), it still felt as though it was an ephemeral idea. Those first spots of light, though, they brought me to a different place, mentally, that helped me begin to grasp that this was, indeed, happening. The rest of the flight, I’m sure I sat with the dumbest look of happiness, mixed with a tiny spot of anxiety and a good dose of contentment that I had chosen to do all of this.

After touching down in Jo’burg, one has to navigate through a series of hallways that go up and down inclines- a perfect course for the traveler who is exhausted and whose legs are cramped. Once to immigration, I was instantly gripped with the fear that I hadn’t gotten a visa for my trip, even though I had read several times on various websites that I wouldn’t need one, given that I’m a US citizen and that I wasn’t staying for more than 90 days. However, I’m the worst case scenario type of person, so I spent the ten minutes in line coming up with an argument as to why I was in the queue marked “Non-Visa Required Countries” and why I hadn’t bothered to get a visa. I had (foolishly, I thought at this moment), left the information for the US Consulate in my checked bag- what was I going to do if I had traveled all this way and wasn’t allowed into the country? I could not mentally handle hanging out in an airport for one more day- I wasn’t the guy from the Tom Hanks movie whose title I cannot remember for the life of me at the moment, for goodness sakes! When I stepped up to have my passport examined and stamped, though, the worry was all for naught. No questions about the length of my stay, no worries about what I might be bringing into the country (diseases or otherwise), and, unfortunately for me, no fanfare about the fact that this was the first stamp in my passport (I really wanted someone to stamp it who would make a big deal about it, just for my own ego’s sake). After collecting my bag (thanks to the assistance of not one but two kind strangers), I made my way through a second set of hallways and had to make the decision as to whether I had anything to declare or not. Again, I had visions of heading down the hallway designated for no declarations, then my bags being searched and them finding something that was supposed to have been checked through customs and then it would be the yogurt incident at Heathrow all over again! However, customs is not all that… concerned, perhaps… with stopping people going through that particular hallway and searching their bags. So, again, worry for nothing.

One of the biggest tips you read from people online about South Africa is that you should never take a taxi- ever. You read horror stories of people being robbed or taken and dropped in bad parts of cities, and the consensus is that you should hire a reputable driver and use them or that agency during your stay. I, apparently like to live dangerously, though, and I took a taxi to my hotel. I used the taxi service at the airport and was assisted by a very kind young man named Tupe (I think that was his name… it might have been Tepe… he and I had a conversation about his name that resembled the frog/fraud Discover card commercial), who helped me find an ATM (at which my card didn’t work for some reason) and then put me in a BMW taxi. (I would like to note that it was my first time in a BMW and I was only slightly impressed… just saying.) I think that I made my driver, Temple, really nervous during the ten minuet trip since I kept asking him questions while he was trying to navigate his way to my hotel. He, in turn, made me really nervous because he kept turning his head around to answer me. So, while there may be horror stories to be told about taxis in Jo’burg, there are also ones that involve kind drivers who don’t try to take advantage of you. I paid, roughly, $10 for a ride to my hotel, which is located within a mile of the airport- I’m not sure I could make it twice around my block in Chicago for the same price.

If you ever travel to Jo’burg, I absolutely recommend the Aviator Hotel. Not only is the staff unbelievably kind (they allowed me to check in incredibly early), but the hotel in and of itself is beautiful, comfortable, and well-maintained. I loved my room- I wish my apartment was decorated half as well! My only complaint is the lack of pillows. There were four, which would be perfect for a normal human being; however, when I sleep I tend to nest like a rat. I normally have at least six pillows on my head, plus a comforter, two blankets, and a flat sheet. Plus, I sleep on an egg crate mattress, which is on top of a memory foam mattress… I miss my bed so much. The bed at the hotel is comfortable, but again, I tend to nest. I am sure that had I asked, they would have given me more blankets and pillows; however, I didn't want to be the crazy American guest. Today is my last air travel day for a while; I am taking a short, two hour flight to Cape Town this afternoon. Pics and more to follow!