Into the BrinkA Story by WooErinEvery journey begins with one step.Bags are packed, tickets quadruple confirmed to be in your front pocket, and you are ready to go. The continent where life began waits, brimming with elephants, adventure, and the best profile pictures you’ve ever had. Allow me to give you a little taste of what you’re in for, dear adventurer. You’re looking absolutely gorgeous. You’re wearing a comfortable, yet
stylish and modestly cut dress. Not wanting to offend anyone during the
connection in Doha, Qatar, this dress goes clean down to your ankles. Hoorah
for the savvy world traveller! You may be sitting in cattle class but you’re
first class all the way, baby. A 14 hour flight is an endurance test. Forget marathons and vows of
silence. Sitting in a tiny chair surrounded by 200 other people takes some serious
mental fortitude. After your second Will Ferrell movie your bladder is full and
your muscles are screaming as loud as the engines. As you stand in the endless
bathroom line you sneak a quick glance at your watch. A little arithmetic and
second guessing your handle on time zones, your heart sinks. There are 10 more
hours left, or in airplane time, four and a half Will Farrells. In the horrid yellow glow of the restroom lights, you catch a glimpse of
not-so-fabulous you in the mirror. After a little useless primping you shrug at
your reflection and figure Africa can take it or leave it. 10 hours later. Unfortunately the plane has landed about 15 kilometers from the airport
terminal, however Doha International Airport has been kind enough to send shuttles
to retrieve you. Local time is 6:45am and your stomach is grumbling for dinner.
Maybe a late lunch, but most certainly a snack at the very least. A cold drink
would do. Shuffling forward towards the hatch you ponder what fizzy drink would
hit the spot and that’s when the heat hits you, like a dry sauna stuck on HIGH.
A thick sheen of sweat instantly whisks away any semblance of glamor that you
had clung onto and you are left wondering what noon feels like. The glances in your direction have begun but you’re too tired, too hot,
and too worried about making your connection to notice them at first. This
hodgepodge of people shimmy out of the shuttle and make their way towards the
security checkpoint. While standing in this tightly snaked line the glares
become obvious. That tiny square inch of skin on your decolletage you have so
brazenly left exposed is upsetting the locals. Desperately you clutch to the
sweater around your shoulders attempting to simultaneously cover your nudity
and fend off heat stroke. A quick sprint to your gate almost causes an
international scandal as your dress threatens to uncover the forbidden bosom,
but quickly you are back in the air with the middle east in your figurative
rear view mirror. Another three Will Ferrells later and you’re finally in Africa! Tanzania
to be exact, which is good, because that’s where you were aiming for. You
follow the cavalcade. The airport looks as if it opened before the construction
was finished, exposed duct work, missing tiles, and a half wall complete the
secure customs area. The humid heat is exponentially draining your remaining
energy as a very large man in uniform approaches you. “Jambo!” he declares with a Cheshire grin. “American? Welcome to
Tanzania. $100 and passport.” © 2012 WooErinReviews
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