Heathrow and Zambia

Just a few words about the 17 and 18th. Heathrow as you may have heard and an accident on  a runway that delayed nearly 50 flights’ arrivals and departures. While I dreamt of my safari leaving without me because I’d have missed the only connecting flight to the one very special part of the trip, I decided that I’d hang around Africa a while anyway and go on to Australlia after wiping my tears, the plane was announced 20 minutes late. A sigh of relief and an hour later we were on our way. I nearly missed my connection in Johannesburg because I took a wrong turn. To compensate for my idiocy, I walked into an airport executive’s office and complained that no one could tell me where to go, which was true. She made calls and explained that a maturish man with a denim shirt was completely lost and where indeed was his flight. After the second call she was asked if that man was a Mr. Albert, as the whole airplane was patiently waiting for him. My flying companions were all smiles; they remembered how lucky we all were to even be there. This grayish man (how polite- I was gray at 3 is now at the Waterfront Hotel in Livingstone , Zambia.  The view of the river and the sunset are a picture that will never be as good as it is in reality. The monkeys on the trees may as well be the skirrels in Roosevelt. For now it feels as if I’m on a movie set as a stand-in. I hope to become more involved. Let’s hope my nephew doesn’t continue to make fun of me getting lost before I even get into the bush (which is tomorrow). No more Internet Cafes until the 3rd of February.

Bye you all,

Albert