Good Friends And A Glass of Wine
“A good friend and a glass of wine
Someone to say it’s gonna be alright
A good friend and a glass of wine
A little pick me up to get me through the night
We talk trash n’ we laugh and cry
That kind of therapy money can’t buy
Every now and then, every now and then
Every girl needs a good friend and a glass of wine”
Even if you are not a wine drinker, or don’t imbibe at all, you get the gist of the message when you say that you could use a good friend and a glass of wine. It conjures up images of friends lounging on the porch on a summer night, telling jokes, trading stories and just plain ole not worrying about anything.
Thursday night I arrived in Durban, South Africa and was ushered into the care of my trusty research sidekick Nicky Jones. We headed to her house and she promptly poured me a glass of wine. I could feel all the tensed up muscles relax. It’s been a rough couple of years and this is what the doctor ordered. I have landed in a world of laughter and carefree friendship. Insurance companies should pay for these experiences as preventative medicine.
When you feel the need to get out of your own head or your own skin, traveling is magical. The air smells different the minute you exit the airplane terminal. You are reminded quickly that you are not at home when the driver sits on the right hand side of the car and the traffic lines seem to make no sense at all. This is what is meant by “out of your comfort zone.” You have no choice but to be alert and your senses are heightened. Nothing is the way you know it to be.
Oddly, though everything is different, I feel at home here. It’s a paradox for sure, one that I have yet to reconcile. Maybe I don’t have to reconcile these dueling feelings. Love for country. Love of home. Love of other places with a dash of melancholy because they can’t both be home.
We settled in the first night by catching up on our lives since we last saw each other. We talked a lot about our expectations of our road trip. We discussed our personal travel habits. We also talked about both of our snoring and remedies for said snoring. We laughed a lot but we reassured each other that we could, indeed, tolerate each other in the days to come. She now knows my travel quirks and I know hers. I can’t wait until we are on the road and we share the music we have stored on our phones for this trip.
It didn’t take long before Nicky’s husband made an astute observation. After hearing about a dozen of my thoughts on the state of the world, and my life, he surmised that I’m an over thinker. He says this with humor but I know he’s right. I’d like to attribute this characteristic to all Americans when they travel but that isn’t true 100 percent of the time. It is true that I am an over thinker about 99 percent of the time.
I know one thing for sure. I am going to commit to catching myself over thinking on this trip. I really really want to just be present in the moment in case I never get to return. There’s a lot to be said for letting go of stuff and just having faith that it will all work out. That’s something the Jones family and South Africa are going to teach me.
I’m settling in after a few days and LOVING the food at the Jones house. I did not plan on the weight gain that surely will result from all these delicious dining experiences. I’ve learned there is such a thing as chicken Walkies and Smilieys in the world of chicken curry. I love the family atmosphere here because I think dinner table conversation is a great teacher.
The end result. Chicken curry presented by the Jones house.
