After a semester of taking an extra class at college and working with my dad around the clock when I got home, my passport was convulsing its way out of my bag. The time to leave could not come soon enough. We whirled around the house like that tornado character from the Looney Toons, fixing and cleaning and moving things to get out in time to make our flight.
Before my sister, Sammy, took off on her grandeur trip around Europe, my dad and I had a layover in London and decided to meet up with her. Dad tried to tag along for the walk but just couldn’t keep up with us. He came to resemble a dead corpse in the grass as he slept, occasionally snoring, confirming to concerned onlookers that he was, indeed, alive and breathing.
Impatiently sitting through a ten-hour flight and then a four-hour drive, we finally arrive to Kruger National Park in South Africa. For the last hour of light, we drove through the golden brush as the sun slipped behind the hills, and I urged my dad to stop approximately every two minutes to “Look at that giraffe,” “Stoooooop the car, that’s an elephant in front of us,” or propose a conspiracy theory: “Did you drop us into an episode of National Geographic?”
I could probably post 200 photos from that sixty-minute drive, but I’m really going to implement some self-restraint here… but only because it will certainly dwindle later, if not in the next twenty-four hours. So, here’s an elephant. One, single elephant… For now.