Departure, I'm carried away

After being stuck in Belgium for what seemed an eternity, I finally got the time and opportunity to travel again and see the world. Destination: South-Africa. It had been three years since I last travelled further than just across the country borders, and twice as many years since I last travelled by plane. It felt like I was new at the game arriving at the airport with my passport in hand. But like a teenager on his first day of high school, I was determined not to show .

By the time I was landing in London I had started recapturing the far distance traveller in me. I bought myself an overpriced bottle of water, installed myself next to a large group of American teenagers. As I watched them I felt loneliness creeping up on me. I considered looking for a conversation partner but decided to pass the time with my shabby iPod instead and tapped the time away to the tunes of Archie Bronson Outfit.

When I finally got on board of the flight to Capetown I was curious to meet the passengers next to me. I put the hopes of a having a twenty-something Londoner who's travelling alone aside , when a British middle aged couple shooed an older lady away and claimed the seat next to me. I looked out of the window realizing that for the next twelve hour I was stuck with rude strangers and a woman who kept cooing about Brighton while kicking against the back of my seat. I turned my head to the couple again and managed to fake a smile. After all we had to find a way to endure each other for another twelve hours. Twelve very long hours when I found out my television set was completely fucked up. The couple showed their more kind side after a while and the woman behind me lay her head to rest, probably dreaming about her city by the sea. I watch the plane fly above clouds and over the ocean, counting the hours till the sun would rise again and I would set foot in South-Africa.