It begins...

I must admit, I didn't get much sleep last night - too many thoughts running through my head. I did eventually doze off just as the sun was coming up but couldn't have got more than an hour of decent rest. Still, I was too excited to feel tired as I finished packing and got ready to leave.

We were a little bit late to the airport but luckily there was no delay with my check-in. Feeling a little rushed but with no time to lose, I said my goodbyes to Mum and Pete (who had kindly come along to see me off) before sprinting through to customs. Unfortunately, my hurried goodbye was completely unnecessary as my flight was temporarily delayed. Slightly frustrated - partly at myself for being so late and partly at Qantas for the plane being delayed - I took one of the few remaining seats in the terminal only to find myself sitting next to a young girl named Robbie. Robbie is an 18 year old opera singer who lives about 2 mins from my parents place and who was visiting some family in Jo'burg. She was a really friendly girl and we had an nice chat while we waited to board and I couldn't help but feel like things were getting off to a good start - hadn't even left the airport and already meeting interesting people!

We finally got the call to board and when I reached my seat I found myself sitting between Bec, a 15-yr old exchange student from Ballarat and Tyrone, a surf-film cameraman from Durban. Although at first I wasn't really in the mood to chat, my seat-mates turned out to be a pretty interesting pair. I can certainly think of worse people to be stuck next to on a 14.5 hour flight!

I took the opportunity during the flight to check out some of the movies on offer. First up was Atonement, which (of course) immediately made me think of Alisa! That was followed by Out of Africa, pretty appropriate I thought given my destination. Finally, I watched a bit of Two Hands - I guess I was feeling a little nostalgic knowing that I wouldn't be back on Australian soil for some time. Other than that, the flight was long but uneventful and I passed the time sleeping, listening to music and getting to know some more about my interesting seat-mates. Tyrone in particular was full of stories and one such story really stuck with me. Apparently, if you do too much cocaine the residue that runs down your nasal passage/sinuses when you snort it will start to erode your teeth from the inside out. This had recently happened to Tyrone and led to an awkward experience with a South African dentist. The dentist was completely dumbfounded as to how his teeth could look so good from the outside and yet be so damaged on the inside. According to Tyrone, "despite having no orthodontic training", he somehow managed to convince the dentist that his hollow teeth were the result of some birth defect and he was therefore able to avoid having to admit to his coke habit - it sounded a little far fetched to me but its still an interesting story to hear from a guy you just met... not to mention that he was recounting the whole episode to Bec as well!

We touched down safe and sound in Jo'burg and I was excited to step foot on another continent. Customs was quick and easy and as soon as I was through I made a bee-line for the baggage hall to collect my backpack. I waited and waited and waited but my pack never came off the carousel. After much confusion and considerable struggle, I was finally able to get a straight answer out of a South African Airways staff member - apparently my bags had been checked directly through to Livingstone (my final destination). I asked if there was anyway to get to my bag because I knew there was no flight to Livingstone until the morning - I knew this because if there was, I would have been on it! The SAA staff member merely sighed and escorted me to a giant hall about the size of airplane hangar that was full to the brim with all manner of bags and boxes. I have no idea how anyone could ever possibly make heads or tails of that mess but I was assured by the SAA staff member that my bag was in there somewhere and, while they could not get to it now, it would "definitely" be on the plane to Livingstone tomorrow. As frustrating as this was, I figured I could survive a night without my toothbrush etc - but I swore to myself that next time I fly I would at least pack a change of underwear in my on-board luggage.

Slightly annoyed but happy to finally be in Africa, I made my way out of the baggage hall and into the arrivals terminal. There was the usual sea of anxious family members, guys in bad suits holding up plastic signs - including one that had 'Dickin' on it, but alas was not for me - and taxi driver touts. I, however, had organised in advance to stay at a hostel close to the airport which offered a shuttle service. When I spoke to the hostel manager before I left, he gave me a number to call when I landed so that he could come pick me up. However, of course my mobile didn't work so I had to find a pay phone. But before that I had to find a bank to take out some cash and then ask someone for change to use the phone, etc etc and after all that, wouldn't you know... the number didn't work! What is more, the details of the hostel that I had printed out before I left were in my backpack that was currently buried somewhere in the transit luggage hall of terminal 4!! I knew the only way I was going to get the details was to find an internet cafe but this turned out to be more of an undertaking than I initially expected. I would ask someone and they would send me one way but there would be nothing there. Then I'd ask someone else and they would send me somewhere completely different or even back the way I just came! I quickly realised that the people I asked for directions would rather send me off on a wild goose chase than admit that they don't know where something is or that they can't understand me - something I would encounter over and over again in my travels! Long story short, it was almost an hour before I was finally able to convince someone working at a hire car booth to let me use their computer for 2 mins in order to get the hostel details so I could put in a call and get picked up.

Things were clearly not getting off to as good a start as I initially thought, but I was eventually able to make contact with Rob (the hostel manager) and get picked up. The hostel was nothing special but I was just looking for a place to crash for the night before hopping on a connecting flight to Livingstone, Zambia. There were a couple of nice German guys (Heinrich & Christian) staying at the hostel and although it was late and I was almost dead on my feet we hung out for a little bit. We drank some beers, shot some pool and I asked them about where they had travelled so far - mostly through South Africa and Namibia - but before long, exhausted from my flight and the lack of sleep the previous night, I gave into the fatigue and collapsed on my bunk, still wearing the same clothes I had on when I left Sydney.