My friend smiled at me, saying that she was reading a magazine thinking she missed me as I walked out of the gate. We hugged then I walked out of the airport for the first time in 42 hours 16 minutes and 31 seconds since I walked into Cape Town international, clicking the timer off on my watch.

"So how was your trip?"

"Well, it was..."

I could have told her about the people I had met. My new best friends "the terrific eight" that I traveled with through the Okvango Delta, Chobe, Suvite, and Nata, and all the towns and roads through Botswana. I could have talked about Victoria falls the sound the water, how I heeded no warning about wearing rain gear and ended up walking around town with soaking wet clothes for hours. I should have talked about the animals lions, looking straight into my eyes scaring me, seeing them in trees (rare sight), elephants interrupting morning coffee around camp, hippos chasing each other while we were in a simple mokoro. I might have mentioned the fact that the people of Botswana, South Africa, and Zimbabwe were of the most kind in nature, friendly, helpful, poor, and willing to give everything to help my experience in this life to be the best.

I thought about the last ten days around the Cape. Where I had seen the place of ancient sea travelers had been looking at those rocks being bombarded by eternal waves, and cold ocean. Maybe I should have talked about being in the same waters with the great white sharks eating dead fish flesh right in front of my eyes, with teeth, fins and tails blazing like deep blue monsters tamed only because we offered them food, appeasing their appetite making us safe in our wet suits and cage.

Perhaps I might have spoke about the African penguins, watching them roost. Calling home telling my mother that I am safe while I watched that adapted animal from the arctic frolic in the sands of the wind blown southern African coast.

And the people. And the celebrations of life. From the night club in Vic falls with my best friends "the terrific eight," to the camp fire conversations with those great people. And the wonderful good-byes to those friends. Then the new ones from Cape town to Simon's town to Pinelands. 

I might have mentioned running wildly in the strong winds of the cape, to Cape Town running with Two Ocean marathoners. Then back to a plane to Jo'burg- thinking about the townships like Sweto where I had first saw Africa. Then the plane then home.

"How was it?" I repeated her question with to many words to describe my travels. "It was a long plane ride." I giggled thinking about sharing a tent with a Danish man, who snored louder then the lions I heard roaring not far from where we camped.

 

Joel