I tried everything to get out of taking Steve to the airport at 4:00am this morning. I even asked his brother to do it. It's winter here, it's freaking freezing, dark and awful at that time of the morning. His brother agreed, very enthusiastically -too enthusiastically, and dashed off to the pub last night. Only to not pitch up, so yours truly had to get up, throw on ten layers of clothing, wipe the drool from my previous REM blissful slumber, bitch and moan and take the poor dude to the airport.
He's going for business to Namibia. What kind of fucked up pilot wants to fly at 5:00am??
Joburg is also a scary place when there's no one around. I was distinctly aware, although still couldn't see staright because I was so sleepy, of being smashed and grabbed on the intersection of Louis Botha and Queens Road. It was DODGY. My main thought was, "Oh great, I'm never going to get back to bed!"
Now if only we had a tube....that would sort out these logistical nightmares... (well usually, sans bombers, of course.)