A Deep Breath

On this, the eve of my departure to the southern hemisphere, I do believe reality has yet to knock on my consciousness. I may be packing, doing laundry, and reserving hostels, but in my mind it hasn't really clicked in that at 11AM tomorrow, I will be on South African Airlines flight SA204 to Johannesburg. The realization will come, though, and until that point I will continue chugging along with my preparations.

This weekend provided a wonderful distraction from African planning in the form of my friend Austin coming from Phoenix to visit. After many failed attempts to get on flights standby, he finally got on the red-eye on Friday night. I met him in Penn Station on Saturday morning and began a foot-breaking tour of the city with him. Starting off in Battery Park (the southernmost point of Manhattan), we walked all the way to 59th St and 5th Ave, seeing all the sights along the way. On that first day, during the 12 mile trek, we saw everything from Wall St. to Ground Zero, the Empire State Building to the Brooklyn Bridge, and Saks Fifth to NYU. Though our legs were perhaps less appreciative than our eyes, I enjoyed it immensely but have come to realize that walking a dozen miles and seeing almost all of NY's tourist destinations may not be my standard first day for guests. As the map suggests, the second and third days were a little more limited due to aching knees and feet. Overall, a fantastic weekend with great sightseeing, better food, and the best company.




Austin left yesterday afternoon, and since then I have been spending time with my hosts here in the city, the Crossmans. They are really generous and hospitable people, and always a blast to hang around with. I got to take part in the Making of the Rissoto last night for dinner- a long process that proves to be entirely worthwhile upon consumption of the rice dish. We kept our eye on the sunset after dinner while all reading our current literary pursuits. I finished reading Steinbeck's The Winter of Our Discontent, yet another very enjoyable work by my favorite author from the second millennium, though not as fantastic as The Grapes of Wrath or even East of Eden. This one did earn him the Nobel Prize in literature, so it can't be that bad. Upon finishing it I decided, upon consultation with Mr. Crossman, to begin Ayn Rand's Atlas Shrugged and hold off on The Brothers Karamazov by Dostoevsky. I'm 80 pages into the 1200 page monster and I find it enjoyable and thought-provoking. It seems to me that I will be having many a conversation with Toukam about what place Rand's principles have in a Christian life. Considering the summer ahead, I think we may get pretty far in that discussion.

I mentioned in my last post that we were having logistical difficulties with our apartment, and since then some more information has come to light. Because of the short amount of time before my arrival and the difficulties of trying to rent an apartment in the last week of a month, the people with whom Toukam is working have said that they will have the apartment ready on Monday. Being that I am arriving in Cape Town on Thursday afternoon, I found myself in need of lodging. This morning, I put my Cape Town and South Africa guides to good use and found a place to stay for the four nights. Though not the cheapest option, I found that The Backpack Hostel and African Travel Center fit the bill- it has parking, it's within walking distance of the city center, and it isn't expensive. For the first two nights, I'll be paying $10 a night for a dormitory style room with 8 beds- hearkening back to my European travel days. Then, for the second two nights, due to a lack of vacancies in the dorm room, I'm going to be in a single room (oh, the luxury!) for about 40 dollars a night. This hostel was about the fourth one I called, and I'm just happy that they had room for me. I'm expecting those four days to be used to orient myself in Cape Town, get some preliminary supplies, and recover from potential jet lag.

For today, I'm going to be doing a mongo-load of laundry, carefully choosing what to bring and what to leave behind, and saying my sweet goodbyes to this city, this country, and this hemisphere.

MY FLIGHT PLAN

I expect my dispatch will be from the Mother City. Until then, all the best!