The sweetness of Home
It's balmy and beautifully green in South Africa. I'm gorging myself on fruit and trying to get used to rinsing my toothbrush under the tap and having access to constant hot water. I slept like a baby after my 30 hours of travel from Bangalore via Bahrain to Johannesburg. At the airport in Bangalore, where we were delayed for an hour, ordinarily no biggie but when you had to get up at 3am somewhat irksome, the security lady told me I'm half Indian after 2 months there. I agreed, wobbling my head in turn.
Bahrain was unfortunately much like Dubai, nothing but showy souless development. So I quite happily rested in my hotel room until the next leg to Joburg which was without incident. After all that recycled air I'm sporting a sore throat and stuffy nose on top of the cystitis that's been my unwelcome travelling companion for at least 2 weeks now.
Fortunately I now have easy access to cranberry juice and my brilliant homeopath.
J gets back on Wednesday.
Life is good.
Bahrain was unfortunately much like Dubai, nothing but showy souless development. So I quite happily rested in my hotel room until the next leg to Joburg which was without incident. After all that recycled air I'm sporting a sore throat and stuffy nose on top of the cystitis that's been my unwelcome travelling companion for at least 2 weeks now.
Fortunately I now have easy access to cranberry juice and my brilliant homeopath.
J gets back on Wednesday.
Life is good.
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