London to Cape Town

At the Concorde Lounge at Heathrow, I was able to find out what Stacy wanted when she called. An exchange of emails told me that Lee Ray, my designated fellow gentleman host, was leaving the ship in Cape Town - no reason was given and I didn't ask; some breach of etiquette perhaps - and was being replaced by Heinz, another of Stacy's regulars. I wondered if his personality would be manifested in 57 varieties. After a shower and shave, all compliments of British Air and after finishing "Losing Julia," which I loved - thank you Peggy; the book is a lovely story wrapped around real wisdom - I boarded a 757 for Cape Town. The 12 hour flight was uneventful except for two young couples, each traveling with a baby, who had seats on each side just in front of me.The babies cried, ofcourse, but after a great dinner and another pill, I went right to sleep and, despite turbulence that woke me occasionally, I managed about five hours on my/in my pod. The steward who smelled vageuly of sweat poorly disguised with deordorant - maybe it was the kids - woke me an hour and a half before landing with orange juice, Greek yogurt and a complete English breadkfast including the tea. Outside, the landscapewas bare and barren (are they the same?), reddish brown, with jagged lumps of mountains in the background. It looked ancient and foreboding and I wondered as I often do when in the air, how peole crossed an/or survived under such ciurcumstances. A tribute to the human spirit, I guess. (This machine is not wanting to

cooperate.) As we neared Cape Town, the landscape changed, becoming somewhat more fertile, with crops planted in neat nrows and occasional trees.

Getting through immigration and customs was easy aalthough the immigration lady couldn't seem to understand thatalthough I hadflowninto South Africa, I didn't need a ticket back home. She wanted the detailsof my itinerary, all the way bak to Baltimore. I was uneasy holding up the line behind me and very releaved when my second bag finally appeared on the carousel. (Why is it that the US seems to be the only place that baggage carts are not provided free?) I found my driver, holding a big sign with my name on it and was surprised to see a submarine- looking trailer into which he stuffed my bags, behind his SUV.