Day 2: Rivonia, Jo'burg

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Organised chaos is probably the best way to describe the boarding process. The gate was announced some 90 minutes before the flight was due to depart and, like good travellers, a steady migration started from the Departure Lounge. It was a fifteen minute walk to the gate and, on arriving, we were escorted straight through to the seats. Being in row 42, I moved to the back of the lounge and waited.

“Would those passengers in Row 70 onwards, please come forwards”. Some did.

“Would those passengers in Rows 70 to 50, please come forwards”. A longer line formed. Being in Row 42, I tagged on to the end and when near the front of the queue, peeled off and went to sit down by the gate.

The queue disappeared, as did the announcements. Braving the wrath of the ground queue, I went forwards and presented my boarding card - and was told that I'd been reallocated a seat - now in Row 68. Fearing the worst, I headed towards the back of the plane and was pleasantly surprised by the space available both between the seats and by the lack of passengers. Clearly, I wasn't the only one who had been moved although no-one had apparently bothered to inform the flight crew. Chaos ensued as all who had moved were hurriedly identified together with the seats they had been previously allocated.

Pleasure was short lived though as, about two rows behind me, a baby started crying. Then a second. Then a third. I turned up my headphones. Something like an hour later, I heard this Australian voice asking, “Does it play any other tune?”. A titter rippled through the cabin, the engines roared, the plane headed down the runway and the crying got louder. I don't know what happened next, but that was the last we all heard of the crying for the remainder of the 10 hour flight.

Settling down, the steward offered me two bottles of my favourite wine (Pinotage). Opening one, I slowly drank in the flavour of the wine and the sounds of Yo-Yo Ma and Chris Botti playing one of my favourite jazz tracks, Paradiso. There turned out to be quite a good selection of jazz on offer! Oh yes, the second bottle disappeared into my hand baggage to be enjoyed around the camp fire in one of the parks later in the holiday.

Dinner arrived in the form of spicy couscous followed by a very tender beef stew with mashed potato and char-grilled vegetables. A tasty ginger cake was offered as dessert with the meal being completed with cheese and biscuits, coffee and chocolate orange. Plates cleared away, I settled down to continue listening to the jazz.

I slept.

First Impressions of Jo'burg

At 05h00, the lights came on and, checking the interactive map, I found that we were still over Angola. Despite flying at 39500 feet (that's 7½ miles!) at 580mph, the 5727 miles was going to take quite some time to complete - and we weren't quite there!

With some 90 minutes to go, we were served breakfast over the Okavango Delta. Melon, grapes and apple was followed by a delicious cheese omelette with sausage and mushrooms, croissant and jam, yoghurt, orange juice and coffee. Certainly much better than the previous flight into South Africa!

Shortly after the plates were cleared, we landed, according to one South African in a field. It wasn't a field, but it wasn't the terminal building either! Despite being towards the back of the plane, I found myself on the first bus to the terminal building and near the head of the queue for passport control.

Obviously, I didn't look shifty (or maybe it was a previous permit in the passport that did the trick), as I was issued with the Temporary Resident's Permit immediately and ushered through to the Baggage Hall. Grabbing a trolley, I saw my rucksack just about to complete its orbit of the carousel and, dashing across the hall, managed to grab it just as it was about to disappear back into the bowels of the baggage system.

Some forty minutes after touchdown (a record?), I was greeted by Isaac in the Arrival's Hall and transferred to Chris, who was to drive me to Rivonia and my hotel for the day. The short drive to the north of city took almost 40 minutes through the morning rush hour. There was precious little to see, apart from the traffic and little could be determined of the South African lifestyle from the road.

It was 09h00 when Chris pulled off the road and onto a small driveway. Stopping at some green security gates, we waited until they were opened by the security guards and drove up to the Rivonia Road Lodge. Looking rather anonymous like many other hotels around the world, I was greeted by another security guard (unlike other hotels) and made my way to reception. As expected, no rooms were ready at that hour, so I settled down to my second breakfast of the day (coffee, orange juice - I think - foillowed by croissant and jam) all to allow me to take my malaria tablet.

Just as I was getting to the interesting bit in a brief history of South Africa, the receptionist informed me that a room was ready and so, by 10h00, I'd thrown my bags on the bed and was enjoying a hot shower and shave.

Time to Relax

The day was a little cloudy with small cumulus dotting the blue sky. Clearly rain was on the way. However, it was a little muggy. I'd heard that there was a shopping centre nearby. Leaving the hotel, I passed through the security gates, crossed the busy road and headed off in search of unparalleled delights.

Outside the bank, by the ATM, I was surprised by a snarling German Shepherd and its handler. I hadn't expected to see such overt security and was both reassured by their presence but also concerned by the need for their presence. Passing by, I found the entrance to the shopping centre and, making my way passed a number of Adult Entertainment Emporia I found that for which I was looking and, started exploring the small shopping centre from the ground level up.

My first port of call was something called Pick n Pay which turned out to be a supermarket. I wandered down every aisle just looking at what was on offer and decided to stock up on some fruit, water and lunch, all for under £5.00 - so very different from Amsterdam just a few days previously!

I explored the rest of the centre but found little else of interest and so headed off for my third breakfast of the day - bacon and egg. Whilst sipping my coffee and following up on the brief history of South Africa, I noticed three elderly white South African ladies coming for coffee. They were greeted by a (younger) black lass who, clearly knowing them, commented upon their recent visit to the hairdressers'. It was very moving to see such intimacy so familiar in other parts of the world replicated here in a country still coming to terms with its past and on the day where, not many miles away, the leader of the AWB was being buried following his death just a few days earlier.

Having finished, I returned to the hotel with my shopping and decided to put my washing line to the test. Taking a sheet of washing powder paper, I filled the basin with hot water and thoroughly washed my shirt. I'd already installed the washing line in the shower, and so, hanging the shirt left it in the warmth to dry - just as the heaven's opened!

The rest of the day was spent resting and reading through the Rough Guide in an attempt to try and understand the shape of the tour. Once the weather had improved, I ventured out again into the late afternoon sun and discovered yet more of the shopping centre before returning to the hotel and preparing for an 06h00 breakfast.

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