Here below is the first installment that we ever sent out...
Dearest family and friends...
Before we start these weekly installments of our travel diary, we would like to get through some formalities.
Firstly, we have arrived safely. So, please don't panic. If you notice that we haven't sent this message to someone who would stress, please pass this message on... thanks!
Secondly, I want to make it clear that although I, Wesley, am the one writing these messages, Jacs does proof read them in order to avoid me sharing some rather embarrassing or cryptic information with all of you. So, she is involved in the writing process... I like to think of her as an editor, and I see myself as her disgruntled employee..
Lastly, I want you all to know that I am a firm hater of group sms's, emails and the like. I find them rather impersonal, irritating and often very boring. So, please be aware that I know that some of you will probably feel the same about these messages and you are therefore under no form of obligation to read or even respond to these messages. I am with you all. Some of you may enjoy reading about our silly little escapades, and that's cool too.
Ok, now that we have those red tape formalities out of the way, let us begin.
Friday, 26th September 2008, Durban International (or Oliver Tambo, Dr.Yusuf Dadoo or Andrew Zondo International... I can't be sure these days...)
11:20 am
We finally got here. Never before have we had to go through so much admin in so little time... If one more thing were to go wrong or be more complicated than punching someone in the face I was going to freak. We were standing at the domestic departure terminal saying our last goodbyes to Jacqui's family, with no idea of how much the next 24 hours was going to suck.
So, we grab our things and head through the lounge. We had had about 4 hours sleep in the past week and we were obviously feeling really kuk, but we were just beginning to feel the bite of excitement that only a I-don't-have-another-choice-
We took off and felt ourselves reeling in the rush and excitement of embarking on our new adventure. That didn't last very long.
After about 10 minutes I started to remember why I don't like flying.
1. I feel like I'm really sharing air with people.
2. There is always a kid screaming somewhere near you on the plane for most of the trip, and the parent doesn't know the first thing about disciplining a child.
3. You feel awkward going to the toilet because you know that everyone near the toilet is looking at you and praying that you aren't going to do a dump, when you really do need to.
4. Your ass starts to get pins and needles while your knees are digging into the passenger in front of you. The natives are getting restless.
5. You normally walk through first class or business class before you get to your seats, which makes you so sad you want to hurl.
Speaking of which, near the end of our first flight, we went through such bad turbulence in the last ten minutes of the flight that both Jacs and myself were feeling an encore from our tiny chink sized grapetizers. All I'm going to say is, it was close. Real close.
Friday 26th September, Jo'burg International, 1:00 pm... Next flight, 7:45 pm. Swak days.
So, when we arrived at Joburg, the first thing we did was locate a pharmacy and acquire some much needed anti-nausea and anti-chunder tablets. After that, we needed to kill some time... actually, quite a lot of time, so we decided to check in for our flight... and this is where we noticed things were starting to go pear. After trying to find our way through our major international airline, which lead through a highway of cars and a siffy red light district looking carpark, we got to the counter. A skinny little man informed us that we were too early, so, choosing to overlook this hiccup, we decided to go grab some chow. We found a pub, had a drink and grabbed our last proper South African chow. Jacs had mushroom sauce... again.
Sorry to detract quickly, but, I have had this argument with Jacs about mushrooms. i don't like them. I don't like the way they look, taste or feel in your hands. But Jacqui always makes me put mushrooms into everything we eat. Everything. I explained to her exactly why I don't like mushrooms.
1. They are not a vegetable like she keeps saying... it's a fungus.
2. Because it's a fungus, I would not choose to eat it as much as I would not choose to eat moss.
3. It grows on crap... I would not eat anything that grows off of crap.
4. It grows on crap. This point is so important that it has to be mentioned twice.
Anyhoo, back to the matter at hand.
So, we had a drink, we had a chow, we laughed at all the hillbilly looking people, and we left. On our way to make a second attempt at checking in and changing our seats to window seats, I managed to stub my pinky baby toe on the oversized and impractical trolly I was pushing. I was wearing slops, and I think I broke the nail off a bit. It started to bleed profusely and I had a feeling things were not going to be as peachy as I had hoped. Jacs was a solid rock for me during this time, as I had lost my cool and began cursing silently and sometimes openly under and over my breath. But she kept me in check and made things feel better than they were.
I bought some plasters, cleaned up my blood from my slop and hobbled off to the other side of the airport.
We checked in alright, but couldn't change our seats. We then tried to go to Rennies and get some cash, but after waiting in a que for about 30 minutes, we were informed that I needed a proof of address. How can I have a proof of address if I don't actually live anywhere? Man, then I really started to fume. We had to go to the other side of the airport again, at this point my foot was beginning to throb and my mouth was unfortunately without restraint at this point. We found an Internet cafe, transferred money into my credit card and tried to pay for the 5 minutes I was on the Internet. The Internet guy wasn't having any of it, and said I needed to spend at least R50 bucks before I could use my card. I nearly tore his stupid little bald head off. Jacs said that she would try and withdraw some bucks, and I cooled my temper. But when I saw her come back without a look of withdraw satisfaction on her face, I lost it. again. I was tired, I was sore, and I was ticked. I eventually just told him to sell me something worth 30 bucks... and the only thing that was worth that was airtime... something I was sure to use, obviously. Anyway, we left his dingy ugly shop and headed back to international departures... we got through and bought some chocolates at the duty free shops. It's weird, but I don't ever feel like junk food while traveling. It just makes me feel siff somehow. But, we bought the chocs, and found a place to lay our carcases down for a minute. We nearly fell asleep, which I'm sure could have been disastrous. So, we trudged on, my overweight thighs began chaffing and my plasters were slipping off my toe... we needed to sleep, pronto.
We got to the terminal, ordered our last Gloria Jeans Cookie Monster drink, and headed for the plane. Jacqui stood on my sore toe, which was sure to happen eventually, and I nearly bit my bottom lip off. We were both tired, and starting to get on each other's nerves. Probably me more than her actually...
But, we finally got onto the plane, and were all ready to go, when the whole airport lost power... ha ha ha. I miss SA already. So, after a half hour delay, we were on our way. We were quite stoked with the whole system Emirates had on board. The food was great and the entertainment was actually able to distract you for about 4 of the 8 hours it was to Dubai. I am ashamed to say that it was during this trip that I was probably the meanest I have ever been to Jacs. She was innocent and I was quick to admit that I was being a prick. She wanted something out of the overhead compartment, so I got it for her, and then about 5 minutes later she asked for her lip ice out of the compartment again. She had slept for about two hours already whereas I hadn't slept at all yet. I can't remember exactly what I said, but I knew once I had said it that that probably wasn't the smartest route to go. So, after confessing my guilt and the consequent reconciliation, we both went to sleep for about two hours. The trip was long, and really really squashed. But I was finally able to watch 4 episodes of "Flight of The Concords" so, looking back, it somehow seems worth it.
Saturday 27th September, 5:05 am, Dubai… Departure time… 9:45 am
We arrived feeling relieved that the last 8 hours were over. We also got clever and checked in straight away which secured us some window and exit door seats. We knew that on the next leg of the trip would at least fool ourselves into thinking that we were traveling business class compared with our previous slave-ship-Amistad-type experience.
We arrived feeling slightly more daunted. The airport was massive. I really wanted to try Starbucks coffee, but when we asked where it was, we were informed that it was near terminal one. We were to check in at terminal 149. We thought we would call their bluff and headed in its general direction. But after we got to terminal 101, we kinda figured that maybe they were telling the truth. Also, my toe was killing me, so the further I got, the grumpier I got.
In the end, we settled for a coffee place called Costa. It was frikking awesome and very much needed.
I changed my shirt, because I stank really bad, went to the bath room and got freaked out by the hose pipe and warm flushing water I found in there. After that, we took the long long trip to our terminal. We got there after about 30 minutes, and decided to sleep on the floor like everyone else seemed to be doing. Jacs had a power nap, but I was stressing about missing our last flight and how bummed I would be, that I couldn't bring myself to do it. I decided to change my muggy toe plasters instead.
When our bus came to take us, we walked outside and were suddenly paralysed by the desert heat that I knew would kill me if I dared to stay in it too long. Rushing for the sanctity of the plane, we said our fond farewells to Dubai. I won't be going back voluntarily, that's for sure.
The last plane trip to Hong Kong was slightly better in some ways and really crappy in other ways. All in all, it was a very average flight and another 8 hours of my life that I will never get back. I think I might write a song about this in the future.
Saturday 27th September, Arrival Hong Kong: 9:30pm --- Jet lag, horrendous.
We were really psyched up about landing in Hong Kong. We had heard so much about it that we were destined to be disappointed. Before I continue, Jacs made a interesting observation during the flight. It seems that the bigger planes (i.e. the one we went on to get to Dubai) had better looking cabin crew people. I had to admit that she seemed right on the money because on our first flight all the stewardesses were pleasant to look at… I can't say I felt the same way about this flight. They looked like the cabin crews that none of the other cabin crews wanted to play with during break times. Rejected and discarded, like an ugly teddy bear. Jacs says I have said too much now, and that I am being mean. All I'm saying is, she brought it up first.
Anyway, we the landing was a let down because we couldn't see much. So, maybe we will get wowed another time in the future.
We arrived and finally felt exposed and alone. I didn't hear an English word during our disembarking. Also, we didn't quite know where to go so we, like lemmings, followed everyone else, hoping that we weren't heading for a cliff. We approached an underground train thing, and everyone started climbing aboard. So, we were just getting on when I heard a small buzzer go off and my bum nearly got squashed in the automatically closing door. It was frikking close. I mean it.
We were thankful when our passports were finally stamped and Dale, our friend, was waiting for us outside the terminal. This was probably the best moment of the last 24 hours. We collected our luggage which had thankfully arrived, and headed out into the thick night time humid air. We could finally rest. Which we did, and are still doing.
We are going to stop there, but we want you all to know that we are feeling really stoked about how things feel an have turned out. We are having a blast and really believe that we are going to enjoy it here. The streets are very very clean. I wouldn't feel skaam about eating off the sidewalk and the people seem really nice and friendly. But, more useless information like this will be available in our next episode.
That is it for now… sorry for the length, but hey, you ask and you shall receive. I'll try to keep it down in the future.
And to all of you who just skipped the whole middle bit of this message, you didn't miss much.
One last message to our families, we love you so much and thank you for your excitement for us.
We aren't missing you yet, we're having too much fun, but things might change in a week J ha ha ha
Seriously though, mail us soon all right?
And to all our friends, chat to you in a week, send us a message and we will be sure to respond to you with something a bit more real and personal than this mass delivery thing.
With all our love, prayers and thanks,
Wes and Jacs.
P.S. If you could pray about jobs and favour with work for us, it would be awesome. Funky fresh.
