Johannesburg: Sitting in the middle of the cab

I got up early this morning to work out with the plan afterward to eat the longest breakfast ever. In my mind i could definitely make a 630-1000 am breakfast happen. I wasn't accounting for the fact that I don't sit well for that long. It was my last morning and my intention was to enjoy every last second of the watering hole. 

Victoria Falls Safari Lodge

After breakfast I found a new part of the lodge that was perfect to relax and do yoga while I waited for my ride to the airport. I was sad to leave this amazing place, but excited to see Johannesburg. This feeling is on that plays out in my mind again and again. I have been fortunate enough to travel to many wonderful places that are worth returning to. As a creature of habit this very much appeals to me. In my daily life it equals simple things like: eating the same fish tacos almost every time and often regretting when I change it up. In travel I have been determined not to do this and I have not let myself return to every place that I thought was amazing. I hold to the belief that there is more to experience, know, and be a part of. I told many of the people in Zimbabwe and the falls that I would try to return in the high season, and maybe I will one day I will, but as I leave the feeling of sadness makes those statements seem insincere. One day I hope to  have been so many places that repeating one won't feel like missing out on a new experience that could teach me something different. 

I shared the car to the airport with a woman named Tiffany from Texas.  My cab driver from the first day apparently actually came back as he was asked, but the front desk dismissed him in the 5 minutes it took me to walk to the front. Tiffany was a nurse traveling around Zimbabwe and Sought Africa for her birthday. She had lived in Tampa as well and we had worked at one of the same hospitals. She had come from Johannesburg with a group. As we road she told me that one of her friends had been mugged and assaulted in a good neighborhood at 1PM (Awesome). This led me to finally read the Rough Guide's section on safety in Joburg. 

This was maybe not the best idea as I was headed towards the airport to go there. 

Upon arrival at the airport there was no one at the checkin counter or working in the airport period. To be fair it was two hours before the flight, so Tiffany and I started a line and waited.

Finally one woman arrived just as the line was out the door. I was first in line and had prepaid to check my bag to avoid the huge charge ($80) I had been told would happen if I waited for them to force me to check my bag at the airport. Even with the prepayment and immediately telling the lady at the counter that I had prepaid and she could have my bag she disappeared for around 10 min (this was popular with the other people waiting in the line. One asked me "What have you done?" I told him I didn't know. I honestly had no idea.). She eventually returned with one of those thingys you are occasionally made to shove your bag into thus proving that you aren't cheating the carryon system. She pointed to it and told me to put my bag in. It fit after she pushed really hard, I was then left with the task of extraction. She then looked at me and told her I owed her $80. This as you can imagine was a confusing outcome and required her calling the only other agent to come over (meanwhile I was gaining popularity with the other travelers by the second) and speak rapidly about ???? Maybe it was how my bag fit but had to be shoved in. While this was happening I sorted through my folder to find the print out that proved that I had paid for a checked bag.  As luck would have it she and I arrived at the proof of payment simultaneously and I was given my boarding pass and they took my bag.

I headed to security and immigration where again there was no one in sight. Security came and told me that immigration would be on their way shortly. Translation: I found myself again at the front of the line of the same group of people 30 minutes later. We would all make it to the gate with 45 minutes to spare. I explored the airport which was brand new. In addition to a few gates it had a shop selling souvenirs made in South Africa, a restaurant, and a snack stop. 

Tiffany and I ended up in the same row on the plane so we chatted some more about Joburg. After the story on the way to the airport I had decided that the next day I would be getting out of town regardless with a field trip no matter what. Our continued discussion only further confirmed this decision. She did allay my fears on how to get to my hotel and seemed absolutely certain that Uber was the way to go (cheaper and safe unless of course the guy had less than 4.0 stars), but said that she would use Waze or Google Maps to make sure they were going the correct way. Upon arrival I successfully retrieved my bag and scheduled an Uber who cancelled on me twice and still charged me almost $10. At this point I gave up and went to find a certified cab. 

Motel Mi Pi Chi

As I was getting settled in the cab the driver asked me to sit in the middle. Sadly I already understood this request from a warning I had been given in Cape Town. Apparently muggers will punch through the window and try to grab white people when they see them. The tip to have a mapping app turned out to be golden because it became clear that after general direction my driver had no idea where he was going. Traffic was quite bad but I guess that should be expected that in a city with a population that is estimated to be 4.4 million.  We missed the guest house at least 3 times because of repeated rapid acceleration on that particular part of the street. Finally my pointing and exclamation was paid attention to and we stopped in front of Mi Pi Chi Guest House in Melville only to find I could only get in by calling a cell phone. I talked the cab driver into calling for me since he had already told me that he wouldn't leave me on the street alone and they eventually came out and got me.

Motel Mi Pi Chi

As I checked in, I simultaneously booked a safari to Pilanesburg for the next day.  She showed me my room which was really great but had an outdoor bathroom that made me a little nervous. I immediately wished the wall surrounding my room was much much higher or like the other houses had the circular electrified barbed wire on top like the rest of the houses on the block.

She saw me eyeing the top of the wall and assured me that there was a security guard right outside all night long. I asked her if the neighborhood was safe for me to walk alone ("Only in broad daylight.") and where I should eat (The Leopard). It was already 3 o'clock so I quickly left and headed in the direction that she said was ok. I stopped first at The Leopard and they were not serving until 5 PM. I walked on and found a street that had a college feel (as the guidebooks promised. Melville described as a safe and formerly bohemian suburb that has frayed with age is between two universities). It had coffee shops, juice bars, funky consignment stores, and antique shop and of course bars with various themes. Following the warnings I found myself repeatedly crossing the street to avoid gatherings of young men. I wondered if this was safe what an unsafe neighborhood would feel like, sincerely hoping that I would never find out.

I was starving so I went in to the corner convenient store and bought local gummy candy (delicious). I then went into a pharmacy just to check it out and purchased purple finger nail polish to enhance my night time activity possibilities.  

Around 415 I decided to wander back towards The Leopard and happened upon a trendy shopping center called 27 boxes, it was made from recycled shipping containers. They had local designers of both clothes and jewelry (read EARRINGS!) and green juice (which was delicious and just what I wanted). I didn't buy anything but made a mental note that I should return if I had time.

 It was now 5 o'clock and I was "headache" starving. This is a state beyond hangry when one is jittery and feels a little weak.

I sat outside at The Leopard and began to notice that there were quite a few runners going by. I asked the staff as I ordered dinner (a local cider and a vegetarian plate that I added chicken to) if it was safe to run. I was told it was if I knew which streets to stay on and in the daylight, especially in the morning (most people can probably read the bubble over my head, "So you are saying there is a chance.").  My food came quickly and was wonderful. It was a mix of delicious flavors including yogurt sauce, chutney, spiced chicken, a sauteed green that I didn't recognize and their version of naan. 

The Leopard in Melville

I finished dinner and liked it so much that I bought the restaurant's cookbook and a caramel to take home for dessert. It was still light out so I decided to speed walk the two blocks back to the guest house. 

Pata plate: taro leaf masala roll up with tzatziki, apple-atchar and flatbread with smokey chicken  

I showered in the glass bathroom electing to close all of the sliding doors, painted my toe nails and decided to read about the Romanians, Nicolae Ceausescu and his wife, Elena via suggestion from a friend and his belief that all dictators have crazy partners. My conclusion: if Mugabe and Nicolae are any indication he may be correct. 

I went to bed early because the driver for my adventure was scheduled to pick me up at 545 am.