I seem to have missed a day somewhere in all this travel. I don't want to fall behind in writing, because there is so much that will pass me by. Already we are on an adventure. Already I feel so removed from what I've come to know as Africa.
We left Accra at night after sitting in a press of people for more than an hour, straining to hear garbled announcements over a shoddy PA system. We took off, the lights of the city spread out below us, raindrops stretching to thin threads on the windows and then we were through the clouds and heading south in a black sky. Dozing off and waking to Phil nudging me and pointing out the window to a million stars that I don't get to see on my side of the Equator.
Sitting here in the Johannesburg airport waiting for our flight to Zimbabwe, it's finally starting to feel like we've left home. Our bags came off the carousel and I was shocked at how small mine looked. All my life distilled into this one pack. Everything we've left on the ship I could walk away from without looking back,.
So here I am, going back to the Africa I knew first, before the West took hold of me. I'm getting out of the dust and fumes and trash of the cities, exchanging all that for open plains and red dirt roads.
We were talking to a man while we waited to go through security and mentioned how long we'd be traveling. Where are you going, he asked, and I answered, glib. Around the world. I think that may have been the first time it's really hit me, what we're at the start of.
My life is in a bag on my back and I am going around the world. From my seat, dazed after a night spent on a plane and in an airport, it seems crazy to think that this life is mine.