Tales from the Savanna: A Tipsy Traveler's African Escapade

As I gazed out of the window at OR Tambo International Airport in Johannesburg, South Africa, watching smoke billow from a blackened spot on an Ethiopian Airlines Boeing 787, I couldn't help but wonder, had my life become a chapter in a survival guide for frequent flyers? No one else even seemed to notice, so should I have cared? I pondered how my life had arrived to this point.

It was a year of unexpected globetrotting, and thus my Instagram handle of @traveling_under_the_influence was born, chronicling my adventures in both spirits and destinations on Instagram. I hadn't left the United States in decades, and within a year, I went from attending a conference in Edmonton, Canada where I squeezed in a trip to a local distillery (It's a funny coincidence looking back and realizing Canada was the first foreign country I visited when my grandparents took me on a summer road trip at 12 years old and it's also where I kicked off what would be come a world tour). From there, I ended up vodka tasting in Warsaw, gin tasting in London, and partaking in a mezcal flight in Cabo San Lucas.

A couple of days prior to sitting at the airport wondering about the safety of the plane that I was about to board, I was happy to take a break from drinking for a couple of days. After a few too many glasses of South African wine and a scandalous elevator encounter, I decided on a brief hiatus from imbibing. My itinerary included a 3:00 AM wake-up call and a six-hour drive from Johannesburg to Kruger National Park, a trip that was as much about wildlife as it was about self-reflection.

My driver, Sonny, was a linguistic wizard, juggling seven languages like a polyglot circus performer. It was fascinating watching Sonny and the other people he spoke with negotiate through South Africa's eleven official languages. Essentially, what you see people to is speak at each other the country's various languages until they find one that the both know. This occurred at every gas station, restaurant, and ticket booth that Sonny accompanied me to.

Our car-ride conversations veered from pets to personal lives, leading to the revelation that in some parts of the world, cats are not just cuddly companions but frontline soldiers in the war against rodents. When one travels, people tend to be curious about your personal life. My go-to line is that I'm separated when asked about my relationship status. It works in most cultures because people tend to avoid the topic of divorce and I don't have to lie about my sexuality since I'm a terrible liar who's also concerned for their safety. The questions then evolve into topics like pets. My ex ended up with the cats in the separation, but I continue to see myself as one of their owners (though they've probably passed by now). In this particular situation, Sonny explained to me that he's more of a dog person, but he borrowed a neighbor's cat because he had a rodent problem. He then went on to explain that the smell of cat urine scares rodents away, so him and his wife allowed a cat to urinate in his house.

It's moments like this where I realize how elitist and privileged I am. I don't think of cats as working animals that support the health and safety of the house, or now keeping vermin away is a top priority. Rather, my cats were lazy bums that spent their days sunning themselves in light that shown through the windows.

In other words, humans and pets are spoiled in the United States.

Flowers that I admired at the entrance to Kruger while Sonny negotiated something in one of the billion languages that he spoke.

Kruger National Park was a mixed bag of enchantment and exasperation. Sonny and I eventually arrived. He drove me through the park and we spotted giraffes and other animals that were magic to see regardless of the number of times you spot them. We then drove to the National Park's lodge where we had lunch. I was surprised at the sheer number of tourists given the difficulty of reaching the park. Most were from Europe, which is about 8 to 10 hours closer by plane. I bought Sonny lunch and he drove me to my hotel. There was a mix-up in that I ended up at a hotel that was booked at the wrong entrance to the park and was quite a distance to drive.

My tour company had to hire a driver to pick me up from my hotel and drive me to a sunset game drive. Game drives typically happen at sunset and sunrise so that you have the best chance of seeing predators like big cats that sleep during the day like their lazy bum domestic cousins.

By myself in the back of a Land Rover made for a group tour being driven from one end of Kruger to another. This was also my last photo of these sunglasses as I'd end up losing them on a van on the way to the mall.

The driver showed up at my hotel and directed me to the bag of a large open-air Land Rover. I got in, assuming this was the vehicle in which the sunset game drive would be taking place. No. Wrong. I was driven back to the other side entrance of the national park where I had to get into a giant school bus-sized version of an open-air Land Rover filled to the brim with tourists.

The tour started out well. The sun was bright reddish-orange thanks to a smoke-filled sky. we saw a mother lion and her cubs. Even a small timid cat called a chervil.

Kruger's smoke-filled sunset.

As night fell upon us, our boisterous driver handed out several industrial-sized flashlights and asked for volunteers to hold them after dark. Two children sitting directly in front of me volunteered. The driver gave directions on how to handle the extremely bright lights so that they weren't used to blind animals. Not only did these two British boys who were probably around 8 years old not shut up the entire ride, but they shined the lights directly into the eyes of a giraffe that bucked back onto its hind legs making it even taller. In fact, the giraffe appeared to be falling onto its back and into its fellow herd members but managed to regain its balance and run away.

I was pissed, and apparently, so too was this lioness.

I was pissed. Their parents seemed to be single and on a date with each other based on their conversation. They did nothing.

We wrapped up the tour. My driver picked me up from Kruger and drove me back to my distant hotel.

I took part in a sunrise safari the following morning, but to be honest, I don't recall much other than continued frustration from my experience the night before and complete exhaustion. I scrolled through my semi-ancient DSLR to see if I captured any good images during the night before on the way back to Johannesburg. Everything was slightly blurry thanks to the low light.

All of this seemed to be a lesson in both the wonders and woes of wildlife tourism.

My somewhat blurry photo of the lioness on my DSLR that I still own and needs to be replaced.

The following day, I visited Pretoria, one of the capitals of South Africa. There was a monument about the war between the Boers and the British, as well as a famous diamond mine. While beautiful, each contained elements of dark history.

My last afternoon was spent walking around a high-end mall in Johannesburg. I started to feel a little homesick, so I spent an hour in Starbucks, where I continued to try to hone my selfie skills against the backdrop of wallpaper featuring banana leaves. I looked forward to the next leg of my trip where I'd meet up with one of my oldest friends.

As the sun set on my African adventure, I reflected on travel and the cultural insights it brings. From the bustling malls of Johannesburg to the tranquil beauty of Kruger, each moment was a reminder of the vastness of our world and the richness of its diversity. Meeting Sonny, my driver, and hearing his stories opened my eyes to a different way of life and made me reflect on my own privilege.

The sunset game drive was both enchanting and frustrating, a microcosm of the highs and lows of travel. Witnessing the beauty of African wildlife was a privilege, but the behavior of some tourists was a reminder of the impact we can have when we're not mindful of our actions. As someone who managed a natural history museum that emphasized children's nature education, I still wonder where the line is between close encounters with wildlife and allowing the natural world to stay natural.

I knew I was leaving behind with something greater than the sum of it's parts, but couldn't pinpoint it at the time. In hindsight, I carried with me not just memories, but a deeper appreciation for the people, places, and animals that make our world so wonderfully complex and endlessly fascinating.

Perhaps more importantly, I questioned my own racial views with regard to everything from pet care to why I was afraid to board an Ethiopian Airlines plane.

Traveling has a way of challenging you, but it also has a way of enriching your life in ways you never thought possible. It's easy to take things for granted when you're used to a certain way of living, but experiences like these have a way of humbling you while broadening your perspective.

I boarded my flight, listening to the Ethiopian Airlines' safety video with operatic background music, and bid farewell to South Africa with a grateful heart and a renewed sense of curiosity for the adventures that lie ahead.