Currently, we are seated at a restaurant in Minneapolis/St. Paul Airport, tucked into a small corner with our carry-on bags at our feet and just enough space on the table for our laptops and phones. It feels like that pause before something big begins, a moment suspended between what has been familiar and what lies ahead. Around us, travelers come and go, some hurried, some relaxed, all with their own destinations and stories unfolding.
It is 2:30 pm now, and we will board in about an hour. There is something comforting about knowing the first leg of this journey will be relatively easy. A two-hour and thirty-seven-minute flight to Atlanta feels manageable, almost like a warm-up for what is to come. We find ourselves wondering if there will be screens on the plane, something to help pass the time with a movie or a show. If not, we will do what so many travelers do these days and retreat into our phones, scrolling, reading, watching, and quietly passing the minutes until we land.
With our T-Mobile accounts, we will have WiFi on the flight, which feels like a small luxury, especially on travel days like this. It keeps us connected, not just to the world, but to the little routines that bring us comfort. Lately, that has meant keeping up with every game of the Vegas Golden Knights in the NHL playoffs. It has been such an unexpected joy to follow along so closely, even while preparing for a trip halfway across the world.
During our two-hour and twenty-five-minute layover in Atlanta, we are hoping to catch at least part of tonight’s game. There is something almost amusing about the idea of sitting in an airport, yet still tied into the familiar excitement of a hockey game. Richard, with his season tickets, will be there in person, surrounded by the crowd’s energy. He will send updates, just in case we lose connection or cannot stream the game on the plane. It is comforting to know that, in some small way, we will still be part of it.
And then comes the long stretch. The flight from Atlanta to Johannesburg, sixteen hours in the air, crossing oceans and time zones, moving steadily toward a completely different landscape. It is the kind of journey that requires patience and a willingness to let go, to settle into the pace of the flight, to rest when we can, and to accept that time will move differently up there.
Once we arrive in Johannesburg, we will spend the night at the airport hotel. By then, we imagine we will be both exhausted and relieved, grateful to have completed the hardest part of the journey. There is something reassuring about that overnight pause, a chance to regroup before the final leg.
Our last flight departs at 7:00 am the following morning, South African time, and in less than an hour, we will be there. Just like that, after all the planning and travel, we will arrive in Marloth Park before 10:00 am. It almost feels surreal to think about it now, sitting here in an airport restaurant in Minnesota.
We are hoping we will feel rested enough to unpack, settle in, and make that first familiar trip to Daisy’s Den for pellets, then to the meat market, followed by a quick stop at the little grocery store for a few essentials. The next day, or so, we will drive to Komatipoort and wander through the aisles of the Spar Market, filling our cart with the things that will carry us through the coming week.
And then, finally, it will begin. The quiet, the stillness, the beauty of the bush. After all the movement and noise of travel, we will ease into a different pace, one that feels both grounding and deeply restorative. It is that thought, more than anything, that carries us forward right now as we sit here waiting to board.
Keep an eye out for our next post. It might be a day or two.
Be well.
Photo from ten years ago today, June 9, 2016:
