Mandela! Blood! Orphans! Yoda! Wreckage! Self-righteousness!
Argentina. Pampas. Horses. Gauchos. (The cowboy kind, not the kind we wore in grade school. Or were those culottes? What’s the difference anyway? Never mind. Shut up. What were we talking about?)
Gauchos. Horses. Water. Broken boats. Polo. More horses. Lots of horses in Argentina, aren’t there? Not that we’ve got anything against horses, but…can we maybe see some different animals now? And preferably NOT in the form of four pounds of meat on a plate?
Time to move on! Clue: Fly to Johannesburg, South Africa. Yay! New continent!
We all end up on the same plane. Some people are cranky that their eight-hour lead is wiped out. Some people who we hate manage to weasel an upgrade to first class. Some people (Jai), still smelling of horses, fall sound asleep on the plane while other people (Cim) get bored with studying their notes on kilometers to miles conversion, get to chatting up the flight attendants in an effort to try to duplicate a weaselly upgrade to first class. No luck.
Ahhh here we are! Johannesburg!