I'm finally in Africa. I managed not to sleep on the 9 hour flight from London andnow I'm floating and goggling in the freezing mall that is Jo'burg park bus station. Please excuse my typing as i a musing an unfamiliar keyboard.
A Crisp Clear Day In Johannesburg
I did not have time to feel how cold it was between the airport and the bus station. But the day had the appearance of a crisp clear winters morning at home. The slanting morning sunlight created a beautiful contrast of light and shade breaking the streets up into a patchwork of darkness and vibrant colour.
Here in the bus station it is absolutley arctic. But incredibly clean. More clean than any public concourse you would see at home. And everyone is very polite and courteous. People tend to leave you to your own devices unless you are about to go seriously astray or you ask for help.
Here in the bus station it is absolutley arctic. But incredibly clean. More clean than any public concourse you would see at home. And everyone is very polite and courteous. People tend to leave you to your own devices unless you are about to go seriously astray or you ask for help.
I took a taxi from the airport because the driver followed me out to make sure I didn't wander off looking for a bus from the Airport. He made sure to impress upon me the foolhardiness of my actions due to the presence of theives. A speech I considered to be standard for fleecing unwary new arrivals who would be made all the more willing to take a cab. The poor driver had to follow me back into the airport while I made enquiries about the non existence of a bus service to the centre of town.
So I took a cab with Tabby who explained to me that because SA was so developed undesirables from all over Africa were pouring in to take advantage. Hedropped me at the bus ststion and insisted on taking meto the ticket office for the long distance bus to Gaborone.
I'd encountered this kind of special attention before in other countries and this process ensures that whowever introduces you to the ticket clerk gets a cut of the (inflated) cost of the ticket you buy.Ok, I thought, we'll see what happens.
Not so here in SA, this escort from the carpark to the ticket counter was for my own protection. I buy the ticket and we part as friends, his warning ringing in my ears 'Don'tleave the bus station'.
Why is the bus station so cold?
johannesburg bus station is a long high ceilinged basillica of a place. Very little direct sunlight gets in. It is antiseptically cold inside and cleaner than a hospital. It is as high as the concourse of St. Pancras or Paddington stations in London.
As I wandered around getting my bearings and adding layers ofclothes (so that now I am dressed for a winters day). It is so cold in here I feel that there is a cood chance I will see the steam of my breath. I recall that I had frequently seen, in photo's of Africa everyone going round in wooly hats and jumpers. I had always reasoned that this was because they maust have been taken in the very early morning. As it turns out it is cold enough to go dressed like this all day.
Anyone I met reminded me 'don'tleave the bus station'.I stood at the entrance and looked out.It didn'tlook so bad. There was a vendor selling food from a braai, a clothes stall which would not have been out of place on peticoat lane and men hawking brooms and ostrich feather dusters. It didn't look so bad.
Sunlight Oasis
I would really love to go outside and have a look round, smell the new smells, listen to the new sounds and soak up the new sights, as satisfying as any meal to a traveller who has arrived. But I'm feeling a bit disembodied at the moment. Not as bad as I could feel, thanks to Arnica & Cocculus which help one's body to get over the drag of long distance travel. But, still, I feel a bit wierd. I debate whether to step outside and mooch around and have an adventure running on the equivalent of drunkards luck, but I've just arrived and I decide to take things easy.
I notice the bus station has a Wimpy, a Milky Lane and a Nando's. I go up to the mezzanine and pass the Leopard Spot fast food outlet at which I sample an unadventurous egg and chips. On the mezzanine is an exit and I look through it to see an oasis of sunlight. There are planters with greenery and a fish pond around which children are playing, their parents sitting with their luggage. There are men with suits and name tags standing in groups chatting and best of all it is in full sunlight.
It could not have looked less like the haunt of thieves and cut-throats, so throwing caution to the wind I stepped out to indulge my saurian nature and absorb some cool, crisp, crystal clear African winters sunlight.
