It’s not cheap if you don’t sleep

Written sitting on the veranda, Woolworth‘s brand “Zesty White” wine in hand, Rosebank, Johannesburg, South Africa. Saturday, March 19, 2011

Our adventure to Zimbabwe and Botswana was fabulous. Visiting the Okavango was on my bucket list. (I can’t think of too many other things on my list except to dance the tango with Andrew in Buenos Aires. This is a hard one because Andrew used to be on the Tango team in high school and I am about as clumsy as they come.) I realized I never even wrote about our time in Chobe National Park pissing off elephants and watching lions hunt, I will have to get that down on paper one of these days. Our trip was grand and fancy and expensive. Andrew and I agreed that the Xaxanaka camp is the nicest accommodation we have ever stayed in. It was what my mother would call, “last of the big spenders.” Now it is time to pay the piper. Specifically, we decided to try to keep down our expenses in South Africa to try to rebalance the budget.

The safari trip was also exhausting. This time it was Andrew who flagged first. He was done. He wanted no more novelty, nothing else new, not for a long time. Every few months I get tired and overwhelmed and think some version of “I want to go home now.” This usually lasts a day or two and then passes. Andrew seemed to never hit this point, that is, he had never hit this point, until a few days ago. I was both relieved and sad to hear him say he started longing for home. Relieved because it is nice for Andrew to be the one to lose it every now and then, and sad because I don’t like it when he is not happy.

It was with all of this in mind that we booked a private room in a hostel near shopping malls and movie theaters in a safe, upscale part of Johannesburg. We might not be able to go home, but we can get pretty close. All was working out OK at first. We went shopping for books. I got new contacts. We watched The King’s Speech (Be still my beating heart: Colin Firth. Sigh). It was when we went to bed that the plan fell apart. The sheets on the bed were dirty, the room was really loud and also kind of dirty. Neither of us slept almost at all. The next morning, the shower was too clogged to use. I do not for the life of me know why we didn’t complain. I can’t figure out why I didn’t march to the office that night and complain about the sheets. Instead, we took out the sleeping sacks Ellen gave us in Norway and made due. I don’t know why I didn’t get up at 2 am and tell them they had to switch our room, but we just tried to sleep. By the mid-morning the bathroom was so filthy that Andrew took off his pants, and then put on his hiking boots before using the facilities. (otherwise his pants might have gotten dirty). It took all the restraint in my body not to take a picture of him in that get-up.

We had paid for two nights, and we knew there were no refunds, but we didn’t care. The next morning we went searching for another place to stay. We went to a coffee house nearby and told the waitress we were sleepy and looking for a new place to stay. She knew which hostel we were staying in without us telling her. She said that during the World Cup they heard lots of complaints from guests there. The manager at our lunch place said the same thing. I guess this place has a reputation. As luck would have it there was a tourist office next to our breakfast place. They gave us a list. Everywhere we tried was booked except one. There was no web page, no description, just a number on a sheet from the tourist office. We called, we got the price, we took the room and crossed our fingers. Luck was on our side. (Thanks, Luck!) We are staying in the garden cottage of a lovely, lovely home in Rosebank, really close to the mall and movie theaters. Did I mention it is lovely. If it wasn’t raining I would be in the pool. We have a sitting room, a mini kitchen, our own outside area and a bedroom. The sheets are clean. Right now we are sitting on the veranda of the big house looking at the garden in the rain. The street is quiet and tree lined. All is good. Last night we went to bed at 9:06pm (I looked at the clock before I turned out the light) We woke up at 8:30am. There are also two golden retrievers who want to lick Andrew. He likes this.

Last night we ate sushi and I drank margaritas. One of my memories of South Africa 12 years ago is that I could not find anywhere that made a good, or even decent, or even slightly decent margarita. This place has changed. They have delicious margaritas and sushi now. Sushi and Margaritas helped with the homesickness. Andrew says that it is important that I mention that we also ate Springbok Carpaccio salad. When in a new country, it is always a good idea to eat the mascot of the national team, raw, with yuppie lettuce greens. (Thanks to Matt Damon and Morgan Freeman I expect all of you to know that Springbok is the mascot of the national South African Rugby team. The movie was umm, OK. The book that movie was based on Playing the Enemy is excellent.)

This place has also gotten expensive. When I was a student here, 12 years ago, things felt cheap. Sure, clothes were always about the price at home, but everything else cost much less. I used to go to the newest trendiest restaurants in town and pay $30 for a full meal with wine. I remember buying a bottle of wine at a winery for 12 rand (which was about $2). I remember drinking a lot of beer and cider and it all cost from 5-7 rand. I remember the fancy room in the game reserve, where we stayed, cost just about $100 a night, and that felt so decadent at the time. Oh, things have changed. That beer is now 17 or 18 rand. Cider more. Wine at wineries is more like 100 rand. We tried to buy Andrew a few new tee-shirts today. The ones I liked cost about $40. That is just silly for a tee-shirt. Note: some things haven’t changed. South Africans, as a group, still drive like shit.

Accommodation has gone up too. Still, we have a new mantra: “it is not cheap if we do not sleep.”