After a much needed nap, I'm feeling much better. Being here on my own hasn't really been that much different from being in Boston or New York on my own. My 10-hour layover in London was quite productive. Besides sitting in gum, I also saw Picadilly Circus (Statue of Eros), Big Ben, Parliament, Westminster Abbey, and Buckingham Palace. Buckingham Palace was disappointingly un-palace-y and disturbingly White-House-like. My favorite building was Parliament, and I'm looking forward to seeing the inside of Westminster Abbey on my return flight. All cities seem similar. It's only when you live there for an extended period of time that you get to know the nuances of its character.
I met a Brazilian woman at the airport who was staying at the same hostel as I am. She lit up a cigarette as soon as we got outside. Little did I realize at that moment that I was to see that same motion a million times over the course of the day as we decided to take on sightseeing in Pretoria together. Pretoria/Johannesburg is a little disappointing, but the other hostel'ees seem friendly, if not too chatty. There's a dog at the hostel that I can't help but keep petting, even despite its tendency for profligate drool.
The sheets at the hostel live up to their reputation. I've never been so thankful for lugging around my sleeping bag. I made my mom make me a sleeping bag liner too before I left. She sewed up a twin sheet into a little burrito-bag for her little pork chop (that's me), and then decided to wash it and dry it in the sun in the backyard. During today's nap, I climbed into it and caught the aroma of sunshine and home. I'm very much an out of sight, out of mind sort of girl which means that I get spates of homesickness interspersed with extreme adventure. I'm a little ashamed to admit that my parents did not even cross my mind at all since I left, until I slipped into my sleeping bag and smelled the sheets. Then homesickness rolled over me in waves. Or perhaps more accurately - parent-sickness since it's not really "home" that I missed, but my parents. I cried a little, scolded myself for being such a silly girl, and then slept like the dead. I'm not too surprised, as the same happened in Asia. Tons of fun and giggling and partying, until it came time for my weekly phone call home. I think it's best that I keep communication limited to email. That and, calling the U.S. from S. Africa chews up my phone cards like you wouldn't believe. I've already gone through 2 and I've been here for less than 24 hours.
Figures, now that it's time for bed, I'm wide awake. Damn jetlag. Tomorrow, I'm taking the Citybug out to Nelspruit, where I'll be picked up by my next hostel - Big 5 Backpackers. I made a last minute change away from Kruger Park Backpackers who I had reservations with originally. I don't remember why I originally chose Kruger Park BP, but I was re-reading my Let's Go guide and realized that Big 5 got the thumbs up from the researchers -and- its prices were cheaper. In fact, Kruger Park Backpackers wasn't even listed in the guide. How I even got information for it to make reservations is a mystery. The experience is probably quite similar and my last minute change is likely nothing but a slight case of nerves.
I'm very pleased with Pretoria Backpackers so far. It has a lovely backyard with a pond and candles, and I got a nice suite with my own bathroom in a stand-alone guest house for the price of a single room with a shared bathroom down the hall. I'm not sure how I lucked out, especially when I saw the Brazilian woman's room (we paid the same amount). I had my doubts about reserving a single room, but I've never been so thankful. When I'm this tired, the last thing I want to do is make chitchat with people in the room. They say that introverts are those who recharge when they're alone, and extroverts are those who get their energy from interacting with others. By that definition, I'm an introvert, though if you ask any of my friends, introvert is the last thing they'd call me.
Alright. My 2 dollars worth of internet time has run out (even with my 92 wpm typing speed). This is to all the people who I promised I'd write to reassure them that I'm alive and well. Though if I'm maimed, I'd be okay as long as they left my fingers intact. Can live without a leg, but can't live without the ability to write. Though I suppose I can be like that girl on TV who paints, writes, and types using a stick in her mouth.
Time right now: 8:46 PM. The 6 hour time delay means that I can never call home because by the time my parents get home from work, it's midnight here. That may be a good thing. Tomorrow is Kruger Park and my two-day safari. Cross your fingers for no lion-mauling.
