South Africa Day 1: The Wolf Pack is formed
(Re-posting email sent to family and friends from South Africa in 2010).
Saturday, June 12, 2010:
It's funny to think how many things stand out when you travel. You notice all the details and can write a story about every part of a trip. Already in only one day of travel I could write endlessly, but I'll try not to.
It was a long flight, 14.5 hours from New York to Johannesburg. I couldn't sleep so I watched 3-4 movies, including one called "In the Hands of the Gods," about five English friends that set out to travel to Buenos Aires and find a way to meet Maradona. They had no money so they performed street soccer tricks for tips - even a halftime stint at an FC Dallas game - and bartered their way from NY to Argentina in various ways. Definitely recommend it for any soccer fans.
When you arrive in South Africa you immediately notice all the signs and ads that make sure you know this is the home of the World Cup. As you walk past customs you are greeted by the obnoxiously loud sound of the famed vuvuzelas - the plastic trumpet horns that in many ways are a symbol of this tournament. I have no idea what they like about that noise, but they seem to have a system that if you can't hear a buzzing noise than it must be your turn to blow the horn. No pictures can describe what it's like to hear this droning and monotonous sound.
We meet a couple of the other guys that arrived around the same time, rent our car and drive to the About Guest Lodge in nearby Pretoria. This will be home for a couple weeks. It appears to be a really nice neighborhood, and then you notice that all the houses have electric wires above the their front yards walls. We are a few blocks from the Iraq Embassy, a place we later stop in front of to take a photo.
The FIFA ticket center is in a mall - that's where we go to claim our tickets. After an hour wait, much patience is required as Brett is told his tickets can't be claimed for some reason. It appears they had some glitch - so a short while later and after a bit of nervousness it's all figured out.
There is at least one person selling South Africa flags at every corner, it seems. Your see it on just about every car driving around. South Africa was about to kick off the tournament against Mexico at 4:30 pm local time, and the streets were buzzing with activity. Everyone was walking around with the yellow jersey on.
The four of us that arrived on Friday were going on pure adrenaline, because we were exhausted. We all decide not to battle the crowds at the Fan Fest, so we picked up some beers and came back to the lodge. The movie 'The Hangover' had recently come out, and we were fans. Not knowing what we were about to get into, one of the guys affectionately calls the group: the “Wolf Pack.”
At the front of the lodge is a little TV room that becomes ours for the night (and likely for the duration of our stay). We all want South Africa to win because we know how cool it is when the host country is winning. When South Africa scored first we went nuts, but could only imagine what it must have been like at a big gathering place. We step outside to see if we could hear anything, and of course, from a distance, we could hear the sound of the vuvuzelas. It was like a swarm of bees was hovering. Back inside we finish watching the game.
It was dark out when the game ended, with Mexico winning, but still only 6:30 pm. Too early to call it a night, but it felt like midnight to us. We push through and ask the front desk where that buzzing sound is actually coming from. Apparently there was a fan fest not too far from where we are staying. However, when we ask how to get there - walking - we are told it's not a good idea: Not safe, they said.
I ask more questions, because there has not been one person that has not warned us about safety. It just couldn't be that bad - but apparently it is when the locals tell you not to go walking around. The woman at the front desk further explained, in a soft and matter of fact manner, that it's not that 'they' carry guns, but rather 'they' approach you with knives.
She then says, if there are more than three of you, you should be ok, so long as you walk straight to a main road. She tells us that if we go, to only carry a small amount of cash, no cards and definitely not our passports or anything of value. There are seven of us, and four of the guys are big, or at least much bigger than three of us. We nervously begin our walk, following the directions she had given us.
Not too far into the walk we are at ease. It's not that bad. We made it to a small fan-fest like plaza that had a large outdoor screen to watch games. The square was packed with people. We find a terrace on one of the bars that overlooks the crowd and is directly across from the screen. This is where we perched ourselves for the rest of the night.
Drinks are relatively inexpensive, at least by bar standards in the U.S. A round of beers for seven of us costs about $20. You can imagine the fun that was had the rest of the night. On the walk back, we stop to take our picture on the doorstep of Iraq.
So here were are on Saturday morning, decked out in USA gear. We found out how to get a bus to take us from Pretoria to Rustenburg for tonight's USA v England game. It's (supposedly) two hours away, so we'll be leaving at 2 pm to get on the 3 pm bus that will hopefully get us to the stadium around 5 pm for the 8 o'clock kickoff. We'll be back around 2 am if everything goes smooth.
I hope everyone finds a way to enjoy the game, without the sound of the vuvuzelas. I don't think we'll be able to avoid it, but we're willing to put up with the sound to be at the stadium.
We're beyond excited - we've waited a long time for this day, in a matter of hours we'll be there hoping to see history. We'll be safe.
