In one of my two-years-ago posts, I mentioned that this blog had over 50 views from countries from each of the continents except South America (where are you, South Americans?!) and Antarctica. While I doubt any Antarctic penguins will be gaining access to wifi any time soon, I do have some faith in the South Americans.
So that’s where I am.
Actually, I’m currently on a plane somewhere over the Western Atlantic but when I’m able to post this, I will be on South American soil. It’s all very mind-boggling. Especially for someone who has had just shy of three hours of sleep.
In ‘The Fault in our Stars’ by John Green, on their plane ride to Amsterdam, Hazel’s mother tells Hazel and Augustus to sleep somewhat strategically so as to minimise the effects of jet lag. So I’m trying that. Sort of. I have no theories on how to do it. But I sure as hell will have at least one plausible one (amongst the thousands of utterly ridiculous others) to do it by the time I get back. Like Edison did. Only with fewer light bulbs.
Anyway. It’s now two years later (in case that wasn’t made completely clear) and my blog has over 220 views and yet still no South Americans (WHERE ARE YOU, SOUTH AMERICANS?!). And my grand hoorah cannot be held without a representative from each land mass. It’s a preposterous thought, really. (Speaking of.. I realise I just jumped thought processes. Side effect of having had just shy of three hours of sleep. Try to keep up.)
I’m B[M]OB (Bringing [My] Own Brazilian. Although technically- because of that whole no-man’s land airport thing- I won’t be in Brazil until next week. So I’ll settle for an Ecuadorian or a Galapagorian. It’s just those don’t play on so nicely with the acronym-ised party routine) to the party so I can officially say I’ve gone global. Once and for all.
You’d think that the reality of the adventure on which I am embarking would have hit me yet. I’d thought it would have by now. But, alas, here I am, sitting on a plane in the middle aisle waiting foolishly optimistically for plane-food breakfast while a whole bunch of Portuguese-speaking, remarkably tanned men and women sit around me and watch the latest blockbusters with Portuguese subtitles and it STILL HAS NOT HIT ME.
Because, the reality is, I haven’t landed yet. And, to paraphrase the overplayed Clientéle Life advertisement which I know off by heart: There is more than one way to say ‘I love you’; [buy your daughter a two-week trip to the Ecuatorial regions of the world]. For which, dearest parents, your daughter is truly, unfathomably grateful, by the way- even if it hasn’t quite hit her yet. YET! I’m staying optimistic.
Okay, they brought breakfast.
I have a question: who actually, outside of their travelling life, eats chicken kebabs for breakfast? I don’t want to segregate foods into mealtime categories but… Kebabs? Are they even appetising at three in the morning- South African time? (Yes, I’ve changed my clocks to Quito Time. Which is 20:30. So maybe, technically, they’re serving us dinner.)
Humph. ‘Brinner’. I can work with that.
“God, you’re the best,” I told him.
“I bet you say that to all the boys who finance your international travel,” he answered.” ~ John Green, ‘The Fault in Our Stars’