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I am a traveler, like my father before me. Around the world in F & J

I am a traveler, like my father before me. Around the world in F & J

Old Apr 25, 2019, 6:02 am
  #76  
 
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Originally Posted by GodAtum
Do tourists often get people following them to mug them in Hong Kong?
Hundreds, every day.

Great trip report. Thank you!
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Old Apr 25, 2019, 11:05 am
  #77  
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I am simply amazed with this report and if there are budding young trip reporters out there wanting to know what perfection looks like, then this is truly it. I lived in Singapore for 7+ years, spent a lot of time in HKG with my old man and have fond memories of flying into the old airport, and my old man gave me the taste of my first "op-up" because our family business did a lot of business with CX Cargo. They were the good old days. Reading this report brought back things that I forgot. Things that I shouldn't have. A remarkable piece of writing and what an effort. Bravo.
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Old Apr 25, 2019, 9:11 pm
  #78  
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Part 7: Not with a bang but with a whimper

When you're a kid people - typically much older than you, and hunched over - say you look like _____. You look like your father, oh you look like you mother. Then they look the adult you're with in the eye and say "I see some of your parents too." My family has been in the same City for a long time, and I had been getting that since before I could walk. My son get's it now and he just started walking last month. We grow up being told who we look like on the outside but it isn't until you're much older when someone, who is typically a sibling, says "You sound like dad!" and we realize who we look like on the inside.

My sisters and I are a strange blend of our parents respective personalities. My older sister is methodical like my father, but funny like my mother. Also, she eats like my father - a pork fueled trash can. At this point in the trip I just stopped telling my mother how much char siu had been consumed because my father was in for some serious plant based detox when he got home. My mom eats meat but my father will get fired up over an Arbys commercial. When we go out BBQ back home, I refer to his meals as "The Ark" you know....two of every animal. My middle sister has my mothers endless heart and my fathers diamond hard stubbornness. If those two got trapped in an elevator the bickering would create a black-hole that would envelop the planet. I. Well. I got my mothers sense of humor, cooking skills (thank you Mom!), and my fathers emotions. He and I cry at everything! Movies, TV, commercials = waterworks. I well up just THINKING about the last scene in Saving Private Ryan. You know the one, when right after the deus ex machina moment when it fades back to present day. Ya, I lose it like I was dumped on prom night. Now I say all of this not to evoke laughter - which is merely a byproduct - but because water flows two ways, and the opposite of damp is desert. I woke up on this morning, headed down to the lounge where I knew I'd find my dad deep in a news paper and as I walked around the corner it hit me [hard] this was the end of the trip; this day was going to end in tears. I saw him and thought to my self "Do not cry first!"

The things to do list on Hong Kong was much shorter than the Singapore list, so we planned to stop at my favorite bracelet store which had been closed the day before (Yes, I double checked it this time dad! ) then lunch and a long wonder before heading back to the hotel in the early afternoon to pack. My flight out wasn't until the 11pm hour but my dad was transferring to the Sky City Marriott so that his morning flight to Chicago was easier to get to. No need for him to sleep in Central when he's got a late morning flight. Also, this way we could make the journey out of Central together. So breakfast in the hotel was in the books, and while a week earlier I would have scoffed at this, as I have several times in this TR, I embraced my cornflakes and fresh fruit as my father was so happy with his bacon and that there was no way I could get him lost in the lounge. The bracelet store was back in Central on Des Voeux road, and for lunch I had a treat up my sleeve for the ol' man. He had never been to Din Tai Fung!

*record scratch*

Of course we can't make it to the subway without another one of these


Back among the markets






"Like Sam the butcher bringing Alice the meat" - Beastie Boys










A hello to my favorite noodle spot, which we did not get to hit on this trip


Bracelet shopping was a great success. The owner of the store, who has been in the same location for nearly 25 years remembered me from 20015 and let me get right to work picking beads. Now these bracelets do not have any spiritual or religious significance to me but many years ago I committed to seeking only two things away from my travels - bracelets and photographs. Occasionally I pick up heart burn, or a hangover but those are fleeting, and I have done well sticking to my goal.


These bracelets are my memories, and stories. I've collected various different ones from all over the world, and every morning I open my drawer and think about all the wonderful things I've eaten or seen. In 2015 while in Shanghai I bought a bracelet JUST because the salesman made me laugh when he said "[It's] real tree wood" about a bracelet with fake beads. I just love having a memory of all of these places.

After some selecting, measuring, changing and about half an hour my two new bracelets were ready. Custom fit and made just for me.

The middle one "Water" and right one "Fire" are new. The dark one on the left is from 2017 for any eagle eyes who re-read that TR waiting for this post.


I must promote this business, and hope if you too like bracelets you'll check it out.



Pockets full of bracelets we headed over to Causeway Bay for lunch. By this time most of the talking had stopped. Not for lack of anything to say, and not because we didn't want to talk, but we were both trying desperately to slow down time. Check out was at 4pm, we kinda had to pack so the goal was to be back at the hotel at 2:30 and it was quarter to twelve. It didn't matter that I had nearly 12 hours until departure, 4pm felt like Cinderellas stroke of midnight and we were both going to turn into pumpkins. My excitement to take my dad to DTF was matched my my enthusiasm for bamboo noodles, or his chili crab in Singapore, but the balance of him wanting to eat and not wanting to have our last anything happen at all turned into indifferent silence.



Luckily Din Tai Fung is no crap shoot, and the power of food once again brought people together. Like an old record player starting from zero and accelerating to 33rpm with a Ruhhrhhhh the sound came back to my world and he started talking.



"How did you know this restaurant was here?"

"This chain or this location?"

"Both"

"A buddy (@Moondog) took me to one in Shanghai. I think I went 3 times in a row." "DTF is a chain"

"Oh, it's a chain. Well, I'm impressed. This is fantastic"

"That pork fried rice is church huh?"

"OH! It's better than you said it would be"

There isn't much I enjoy more than introducing someone to a meal or food they really enjoy, and this compliment from my father is high high praise.

Perfection


On the way out I told him "It was a tradition to talk a picture with Bao head on your first visit." This is a lie, but really think it would be a fun fad to start. Also, they have the same amount of hair


Full of more pork (again!) (sorry mom) we decided to walk up Hennessy Road towards the Wan Chai MTR station would be the best for our cardiovascular health. Also, walking was the slowest form of transportation we had, and time was racing away.

We passed the villain hitters. If you have time I highly recommend having your bad demons beaten with a shoe! Also, if you don't know what this is - youtube!




Hahah Oh good. It has been 50 feet since the last mall.


Neon


double neon










The crowd in black and white






Red


Signage


Trolly trolly


We walked past a fantastic smell - next time Hong Kong. Next time!


Back at the JW the hotel room that welcomed me two days earlier now just looked sad. It was time to go. I packed everything I could knowing I wouldn't see my bag for two days and that I'd need space in my back pack for anything else I collected along the way. A few photos of the cloudy view before departing.








Back in the taxi because my dad "just felt more comfortable doing it his way" we found our selves back in the quiet. The cab ride seemed to last forever, and by time we got to Sky City I dove out of the cab trying to escape the silence. My dad checked in, we dropped our bags in his room and I recommended we check out the lounge as I had been told it had some great airport views. After grabbing some drinks and snacks we headed out to the patio, which as promised had some fantastic views of HKG, then we did what two people trying to fill the silence do. We overcompensated. We just started talking, and talking and talking and arguing and talking. Not about anything deep, we weren't even disagreeing on anything. We were just trying to not notice the sun had gone down.

Finally the frenetic pace of our conversation broke, and like when extended turbulence ceases on a flight you feel a moment of relaxation. He asked me what my favorite meal was.

"Well, how are we quantifying favorite?" (still kind of hot from the last conversation) "Because if we're taking favorite item I ate, and favorite meal those aren't the same thing."

"Both" he said

"The best thing I ate was the Chili Crab, but this trip was a murders row of food.........Everything we've eaten deserves to be the best thing we ate."

*smiling*

"Now, the best meal I had? No questions. You, me, goose, first night in Hong Kong. Can't be beat, ever! I had my meal with dad"

His eyes started to shine, so I quickly turned the question back to him.

"My curry grouper head." "Oh, I missed that so much."

"That was good" I added "You know we can have it again.......we have the miles."

We spent nearly the next hour discussing every possible route between Rochester, New York and Singapore. The deeper we got into it, the heavier the reality hit my father - there is no short cut to curry fish head. He had been there 50 times, maybe more but this trip stood out not because I was there, but because it hurt. A lot. At 73 years old he shows many of his [nearly] 4,000,000 miles without a flat bed. He spent decades not burning the candle on both ends, but lobbing candles into the furnace to make our family what it is today, what it was while he was gone, and what it will be in the future. It's not like he stopped flying in 2000 and retired. He worked full time until 2016 driving over an hour each way to a company he took through a turn around and saw relisted on the stock exchange. The man is tired. We sat there looking on GC map, discussing direct flights from EWR or stops in Germany via JFK on SQ and (as we know) there was no "shorter way" to be found. I asked him if he wanted to come back for his 75th birthday, and replied "[A]s much as I want to come back, I'll have to think about the best way to do it." I've got to say, even at 35 I appreciate the half lie. Of course he wants to come back, he just doesn't have the heart to tell me he [probably] can't.

Two years ago when my wife and I moved from California to North Carolina it was my job to sell and move out of our house. She had already moved across the country to start her job and so I'd come home from work and pack a little every night until I was sleeping on an air mattress. I never liked our house when we bought it, and tolerated it while we lived there, but after the movers left and I took my key off the ring to leave on the kitchen counter I sat on the steps and looked at the empty. I had been there so many times, it was my home, we painted the walls, I didn't like being there but I never imagined being anyplace else, and as I sat on the steps a puddle of tears formed at my feet because I was never coming back to that house. Twenty years ago it didn't dawn on my father that he would never be back, why would it? He had been to both Hong Kong and Singapore so many times he lost count. The airline miles, the upgrades, the amenity kits, hadn't been counted in so long he forget when he stopped counting. Why would he ever dream that he wouldn't be going to these places. As we sat on the balcony, he was completely cognoscente that this was good bye to a enormous part of his life, and it was almost certainly forever. You could see it in his face, and then the silence came back.

First he was sad the trip was over, then that he was saying goodbye to Hong Kong [and Singapore], then he was sad that he had made a dreadful mistake; he waited 20 years. There was no point in the past two decades where he did not have the capacity to make this trip but he missed the transition from taking it all for granted to forgetting how much he left here and you could see the regret on his shoulders. We were standing outside the hotel waiting for the shuttle, and he joked about my foolish route home. I didn't admit that I was desperate not to fly it, and would give anything to fly United with him. I stood there dreading the arrival of the bus, which as it crested the hill physically hurt me. While so much of this trip has been a reflection of my father's experience, I am the dog that caught the car. The trip I had been dreaming about since before I knew I was dreaming had happened and it was darn near perfect, but it was over. I may have to wait 30 years for my son to want to go some place with me, for him to need to see my old footprints. The joy of getting what you want, when what you want isn't material, but is a feeling is wrapped in the deep sadness that you can never have it again. Not the way you imagined it, not in its original purity. My dream became a reality, and now my dream is a memory which as I walked on that bus ever so slightly began to fade.

Thanking me through tears he cried while we hugged. I cried as soon as the bus door closed.

I'd like to think he didn't cry alone in his hotel room, but then again I am sure he would like to think I didn't cry in the lounge, aware of my own mistake and cursing myself for not taking one more flight with my dad.

Next: Part 8: Johannesburg!

Last edited by Madone59; Oct 6, 2019 at 7:21 am Reason: typo
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Old Apr 26, 2019, 5:50 am
  #79  
 
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Originally Posted by Madone59
The trip I had been dreaming about since before I knew I was dreaming had happened and it was darn near perfect, but it was over. I may have to wait 30 years for my son to want to go some place with me, for my him to need to see my old footprints. The joy of getting what you want, when what you want isn't material, but is a feeling is wrapped in the deep sadness that you can't have it again. Not the way you imagined it, not in its original purity. My dream became a reality, and now my dream is a memory which as I walked on that bus ever so slightly began to fade.
I've cried before -with laughter, that is- while reading trip reports on FT but I never really cried.
This latest installment and especially the very last paragraph changed that, because it is so well written and because it hits so close to home.
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Old Apr 26, 2019, 3:52 pm
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I was going to wait until the TR was finished to post, but this last segment has brought tears to my eyes and I have to say thank you now. Thank you for such a gift for your father and thank you for sharing it with us.
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Old Apr 28, 2019, 5:27 am
  #81  
 
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I also read the last paragraph and am going to write my daughter now. We took a short trip to Dubai together a couple of years ago. It was wonderful and keep discussing the next trip. Well, as you have shown me the next trip should be now. I am truly touched by your trip report. I thank you ....
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Old Apr 29, 2019, 5:08 am
  #82  
 
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Absolutely incredible. And looking at the responses from the oligarchs of FT.......SFO777, john rain, eight black, ironmanjt....WOW

Reminds me of the trip I did with my father and mother in 2004. I saw that he had maybe a year left on this planet. My wife and I were in Paris and I
arranged for my best friend to escort them from BOS to CDG. My dear friend Tom has a wicked sense of humor and introduced my mother to the check-in
agent as Mrs. Osama Bin Laden. The agent had no sense of humor and immediately called the state police. Luckily, my mother was chums with the director
of Massport, the owner of the airport, and a couple of phone calls later the state police were escorting my parents and bad Tom through security.

My father had studied at the Sorbonne and we had lived in Paris as my father was a diplomat in the U. S. Foreign Service. My father, Tom, and I spent
several days touring my father's old haunts and finished the trip at Sacre Coeur. I will never forget kneeling next to my father and praying to the Almighty at
this hill-top cathedral. I keep a photo of the three of us, in tears, on the steps of Sacre Coeur, on my desk.

A year later he died.

I noticed the Hobart shirt. My wife and I are U of R grads and have a cottage on Seneca Lake in Hector.
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Old Apr 29, 2019, 5:24 am
  #83  
 
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Originally Posted by Madone59
I think I went 3 times in a row." "DTF is a chain"
I got bemused looks when I referred to Din Tai Fung as 'DTF' when I was in Hong Kong.

Apparently it is millennial speak for something else!

https://www.urbandictionary.com/define.php?term=DTF
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Old Apr 29, 2019, 10:04 am
  #84  
 
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Great TR. Thanks for sharing.

Originally Posted by Madone59
We walked past a fantastic smell - next time Hong Kong. Next time!
Kam's Roast Goose is amazing. You should definitely stop by on your next trip. Be ready for long queues.
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Old Apr 30, 2019, 10:17 am
  #85  
 
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"do something all travelers love to do - turn left!"
The only way I get to do that is if we board at the back of the plane!

What a wonderful tribute to your Dad! Love the TR and accompanying pictures!
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Old May 4, 2019, 8:56 am
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Really enjoyable trip report with really good photos!
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Old May 4, 2019, 11:27 am
  #87  
 
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OMG - where is the trip home???
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Old May 10, 2019, 12:39 pm
  #88  
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Well, this is just magificent! Everyone should have to read a TR like this at least once in their life! It makes me realize how much I regret not doing this kind of thing with my own dad (now sadly passed on).
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Old May 11, 2019, 11:58 am
  #89  
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Part 8: Johannesburg!

juxtaposition
/ˌjəkstəpəˈziSH(ə)n/
noun
The fact of two things being seen or placed close together with contrasting effect.

Getting on the plane to South Africa was as hard as writing the next chapter in this trip report. I truly appreciate the kind replies to Chapter 7 and the report as a whole, its taken emotional energy to write. Not to dissimilar to the state of mind I was in while boarding. The juxtaposition of spending my miles to coordinate my fathers return to Asia, and taking two extra days to fly pointlessly away from my family just because I could still lands hard if I'm honest. Obviously (or not) the length of the trip had been blessed by Mrs. Madone59 and the Mrs.Madone59-in-law was helping her with our son, but still there was zero "need" to fly to Johannesburg. Certainly not like the need I felt to be in Hong Kong with my father. So why did I do it? Two reasons: 1. I love literally flying "around the world" 2. I had to put my miles where my mouth is. You see for years I have been tinkering with United Awards - poking at the schedule to see what I can make it do. When they system was changed to discourage multi-city bookings I had already learned you would get from South East Asia to North America via South Africa, and Europe on the same trip. Actually if the moon's are all aligned you can go South East Asia to North America via South America for the same price as good old Hong Kong to Chicago. I had been pitching these routes to my friends for years, and no one took the bait so when the opportunity (and seats) became available I felt it was time to put up or shut up; seriously. Everyone here is seeking something different from their travel experience. I...I want to be in the air. If you can fly 14,000 miles instead of 8,000 you (in my mind) got more for your 90,000 UA miles. That is how I'm wired. So the trip with my dad was planned and HKG-JNB-JFK opened up. Perfect! JNB-JFK is the longest flight in the world on at A340-600 - my favorite aircraft, this was meant to be. Now if you're reading that and scratching your head because my map on page one definitely doesn't show JNB-JFK don't rush. We'll get there. This is a story of a great day, an epic delay and a legendary reroute.



I made my way to the gate just as premium boarding began, and merged right into the moving line of business class passengers. As the gate agent scanned by boarding pass the switch flipped and I was excited. Adrenaline started moving and I got serious about what I was about to do. Just like my 2017 RTW bonanza sleep on this flight was paramount - this was my flying hotel and I needed to skip dinner to get sleeping. The excitement took a real shot in the gut as a turned left into the business class cabin and saw the old non-line-flat seats.

"*exhale* This is going to hurt." -Photos taken upon landing, which is why there is day light






Seat controls


Barley enough storage for a pair of shoes under the seat in front of me


Business class on tonight's flight was just about one third full, so my neighbor quickly bid me farewell and headed to his own row, though I wish he stayed for a few extra minutes because all of the flight attendance and some passengers seemed to know him...I wanted to ask who he was . A made a quick trip to the lav to put on my JAL PJ's from earlier in the trip and as I started to get settled in the pilots made one of the strangest announcements I have ever heard. The pilot warned passengers of theft. Seriously! If you've heard announcements like this before please chime in, because my jaw was on the floor. He went on and on about protecting your luggage and valuables from in-flight theft which is "common on this route." As he wrapped up the warning he added that this crime was "not unique to South African Airways", but to this route..........which is only operated by two carriers of which SAA is one . A dull rigging came to my ears as I became awash in travel anxiety. After my years of travel anxiety is NOT a regular feeling so I knew what it was as soon as it hit. My mind was racing.

"Am I going to get my cell phone, wallet and or passport stolen, and be stuck in Johannesburg"

I was a momentary mess as my mind bounced from were South Africans being robbed past were Asians right to were tourists being targeted! As a reflect back on this announcement it gets ever stranger because I never heard it again. Not when failing to fly to JFK, or getting re routed through Nigeria. This was the only time passengers were warned of on-board theft.

As soon as we climbed out of Hong Kong and the seat belt sign was off I got up and grabbed my backpack. I had it stuffed to the gills for what was supposed to be one 10 hours on the ground in South Africa, a flight home and a connection in JFK so if I lost anything in there it was going to have a big impact on my trip. I reclined my seat into bed mode then opened up the little shoes compartment in the seat in front of me - which was not obstructed by the foot of my bed - and shoved my phone and passport into my shoes before closing the compartment. My second phone and wallet stayed in my back pack which I crammed between the side of the seat and the wall. I also partially reclined the empty seat next to me so that the bottom of the bed protruded into the empty space by my legs.
Was this overkill? Probably. Was it underkill.....we'll never know, but if someone was going to rob me, they were going to have to wake me up to do it! Some light chop over the Indian Ocean was gently rocking us, and after getting a second pillow from the cabin crew (my former neighbor took his with him) I had seven restful hours of sleep.

I woke up to find all my belongings where I left them and just in time to see the sun rise over Madagascar


Breakfast


Landing in JNB








ET 738 Max. Interestingly enough the next day I saw another ET 738 Max and thought "No need to shoot it, you already got one." It was ET-AVJ


International arrival tails




My flight got in about thirty minutes early, which gave me extra time before my 9:00am pick up, so I made my way to the lounge for a shower and some fresh clothes.

Looking down on the terminal from the upper level.


The lounge, while beautiful and well appointed was a challenge to photograph the front of because of the big glass wall.


There was no wait for a shower room which were all very large and clean. I would have enjoyed a bit of a larger towel, but the shower experience as a whole was wonderfully average and beat expectations. I grabbed some breakfast and headed out to meet my driver. Walking out of the terminal I took a look at the departure board and thought "Huh, I only know four of those places." I love that feeling.


Prior to leaving on this trip, literally in the Lufthansa lounge in JFK, I booked a local driver/ guide through Tours By Locals. I had asked around some friends as well as here on FT and couldn't get a lead on a guide, but my roll-of-the-dice with booking through TBL really paid off! My guide Mmesi, was absolutely awesome! He pitched a no-hitter, had a hat-trick, and a triple-double all in the same game Seriously, I can't personally recommend him enough or exaggerate how much he added to my day in Johannesburg. A lot of friends, some of whom are from South Africa told me not to do this stop. They said Johannesburg was to dangerous to be flippant about, and the safe or touristy parts were too far from the airport to access easily or efficiently. Excluding my reroute home, I'd do this again thanks to Mmesi.

Heading out of the terminal I texted Mmesi "Purple Hat." I wasn't more than five steps into the greeting area when a smiling face met me, hand out stretched "Daniel!" WE headed to Mmesi's car, and off into the city. Here is a map of our day. We headed out of the airport and right into the city then Constution Hill before heading out to Soweto then back on the highway through Johannesburg South and New RedRuth. Map courtesy of Google, awesome data plane courtesy of T-Mobile!


South African Flag on cement


On the road...


Our first stop was at the Drive Lines building in Jeppestown. It took 140 shipping containers to make this building which is part studio and part apartments.




A walk around to look at some street art














Mandela, on the edge of Hillbrow


All of my South African friends said don't go to Johannesburg with no plan, and definitely don't go to just bop around the city like you're used to, and definitely definitely do not go to Hillbrow!

Mmesi looked over at me. "Put your camera down." We turned left into Hillbrow in the shadow of the famous Ponte City building. Famously hollow and featured in the movie Chappie as a den of thieves it used to be full (literally) of garbage because people would just throw trash into the center.


Mmesi said pictures were OK, but to keep my camera low and hide it if we stop at light, and if we stop at alight don't make eye contact. I asked if it was dangerous because he was black of if I was white and he said no "They rob everyone. Blacks rob blacks, whites rob whites, and they don't just want your money - they want to hurt you."










Architecture




My photos do not do Hillbrow justice, and we din't stray off the main street - which is to say there are worse parts of the worst part of town - but the tension was palpable. You could see people eyeing our car. You could see conflict simmering. If the juxtaposition of being with my father just yesterday at the JW Marriott wasn't jarring enough, just one block outside of Hillbrow is constitution square where the South African constitution court is located. As we parked and got out of the car you could still hear the hustle and bustle of the busy city streets, the tall constitution court literally looming over the crime ridden blocks beneath it.




The magnificent front doors of the constitution court are Carved with all 27 rights in the South African constitution.






Inside the court. Bathed in sunlight the court is designed to be figuratively and literally open to the people of South Africa. Notice the line of windows behind the last row of chairs.




Bricks from apartheid prisons re-purposed to keep the court's eye on South Africa's history


"The tree protects the people, and they look after the tree"




Art




Flame of democracy


Back in the car we headed towards an older section of town to see a traditional medicine store




Crossing the Mandela bridge by car...


By foot


Square of squares


Downtown


A relic hangs above the medicine store



The medicine shop was fascinating, and i regret not buying something when had the chance. The air was thick, full of plant and animal smells from the wall to wall herbs and bones. Locals were buying and bartering and chatting like we weren't even there.

Various dried animal parts


Dried roots and herbs


Sticks, canes, and spears


Pottery




Noise makers


Back in the car, and passing city hall




At 234 meters this is the former tallest building in South Africa, and on the continent as a whole. It just got passed by The Leonardo which is 234 meters.


Going up!


The View












Bus station


Back on the road, we briefly followed a delivery truck


About twenty minutes later we were in Soweto - South Africa's biggest township


Tree


Neighborhood



The cooling towers from the now decommissioned power plant. Apparently you can swing off them, and that is something tourists do......pass.



We headed north on Kingsley Sithole street....seriously...as the houses turned from neighborhoods and brick buildings to tin shacks. Mmesi Pulled over.

"Would you like to see the shacks?" He asked.

I looked out of the car window and saw a few men gathering by the corner looking at the car. One was saying goodbye to another touristy looking person who was getting into a car. I looked back at Mmesi for approval.

"It's ok, get out. Take your camera. These guides open their communities up so people can see what life is really like. It's OK. Go"

I timidly opened the door and got out of the car. All of the sudden it had gotten hotter out. We weren't shaded by the tall buildings of the city, and even though were surrounded by homes and people this felt like a lonely place. If I'm honest, and with no disrespect meant towards the community that was welcoming me; I felt like I was stepping foot into Mars. I wasn't just out of my element, I was miles away from it. I had walked three feet away from the car and had never been further from home as I was at that moment.

I don't want to get too deep down this rabbit hole without first recognizing yes I know this is a sanitized version of poverty, for tourists to see and it's structured (probably at the expense or even against the wishes of the residence) to solicited donations. I know this! But. I also know, if it wasn't for this sanitized (and safe) set-up I, nor many others, would never get this close or have the opportunity to get their minds around how so many people live. Were the residents being exploited? I hope not. Were donations tricking down to them.....I hope so.

"Hello" My guide bounded towards me, hand stretched out. He introduced himself and explained that local guides, like him, work with communities to open their doors to outsiders so that we could understand what life was like here. He guided me through the shacks, encouraging me to take photos and ask questions. We talked about water, food, education, mosquitoes and electricity.




"Don't mind the power lines *grabbing a raw wire* they are only dangerous at night when the street light are on. People here steal power from the city [lights], that's the only way they can get it."


More power lines


Narrow






Gravel crunching under our feet, kicking up a cloud of dust behind us we walked back up towards the road where you could hear kids laughing.

"Would you like to see out school?"

P.T Barhum said there is a sucker born every minute, call me a sucker. Fine by me! My heart grew 11 sizes as soon as I walked in the door. Yes, I know I know the tour is supposed to end here. I get it, it's kinds probably a money making operation, and again I just hope no one is being exploited. I was honored to make a donation to the school in the name of Mrs. Madone59's grandfather who was a pioneer in special education and never met a child he didn't love.


I walked out of the school with my guide and headed towards the car. We shook hands and he thanked me for my donation.

"We appreciate your support." he said

"I had to. We all say goodnight to the same moon."

Seriously I said that. Only now after writing this Trip Report and tell you all the full moon does the full-circle gravity hit me like a ton of irony but there I was standing in shacks of Soweto talking like my father. I got back in the car and we headed towards Mandela's house and the apartheid museum.

Market


Advertising. Yikes


Mandela's house











The apartheid museum does not permit photography, and I highly recommend a visit. The walls are lines with powerful stories and moving images from this dark period, which South Africa continues to struggle with and heal from.

100 photo limit
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Old May 11, 2019, 1:15 pm
  #90  
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Part 8.2: Johannesburg!

While photographs were not permitted in the museum, outside was some fantastic art.










Soweto is many things, and you don't need a visit to the apartheid museum to see the scars of it's history or it's many layers of class and society. Mmesi impressed upon me how much Soweto, once [just] a mining town, has changed and developed a tourist economy. While swinging between two cooling towers was clearly not a local hot stop, the tourist trappy economy and entrepreneurial South African spirit was on maximum display in this area near Mandela's house and the museum. As we turned up Villakazi street for lunch we may as well have been tourists disembarking a ship in the Caribbean. Dancers in faux traditional clothes holding spears and taking photos with people, singers thumping their chests belting "Welcome to Soweto" and row after row of tables selling various everything. We got lunch a Sakhumzi restaurant, which seemed to be the spot for tour guides and tour buses to unload their passengers. The meal was neither good or bad, it was just a meal and I hadn't come to South Africa to dine so just a meal was fine by me.





I do love bracelets


After lunch and a little walk we headed back towards the airport. With a 5pm airport ETA that was not only a full day exploring the city, but left me plenty of time to shower and eat before my 9:55pm flight.

Heading home from school


Crossing traffic




I put the camera down for a little while to enjoy my ride with Mmesi, and chat about the day which had come together exactly like I envisioned it. South Africa is beautiful and I wish it was more accessible literally and figuratively. This is just not a place to hop onto public transportation from the airport, get off in the city and wonder around. This worked because my bag had been in the trunk of the car all day, and I had a wonderful guide whow as able to show me so much so quickly. On the way back to the airport we talked more about our children, talked about work and talked about the world. I bid Mmesi farewell and sincerely hope I have the opportunity to see him again. There was so much to see that if I took the same tour tomorrow I'd take 1,000 different pictures of things I missed the first time.

The main atrium of O.R Tambo international airport.




As my checked bag had stayed at the airport and in transit all day I breezed through security and customs and headed right back to the lounge for shower number 2.


Still full from my late lunch I headed out to do some fantastic plane spotting








So many great tails!











After a great walk around the terminal, and spending my remaining rand in the gift shop I headed back to the lounge for dinner. As I finished off my beer and headed out of the lounge towards my gate I had no idea that the long way home was about to turn into the long long long looooonnnnggg way home.

Next: Part 9 Are we there yet?!
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