A Journey Long
Delayed
I was out socialising
in Johannesburg, a journey I had finally scheduled after vacillating for weeks
over the idea of travelling to South Africa, at the end of 2018.
Though the thought
was on my mind, I had other pressing concerns. Only a few weeks prior, in
October 2018, I had undergone a colonoscopy, and I can testify that the
insertion of a tube at either end is thoroughly unpleasant. I speak as one who
had also had a camera tube trailed down my oesophagus into the duodenum in
mid-May 2026.
This was a time when
I was shuttling between Manchester and Cologne. In one of those moments of
self-talk, I said to myself, "If you do not book this trip, you'll regret
it."
An Unexpected
Encounter
While in Cologne, I
booked a flight to Johannesburg, flying out from Manchester on Christmas Eve to
arrive in Johannesburg on Christmas Day, via Paris.
It was on my third
night that I ventured out and, ensconced in a corner as the introvert, I sat
and observed others. Earlier, I had seen this man, but I perished the thought
of an encounter; he looked already spoken for, and quite out of my league.
Then, probably an
hour after I first saw him, and he must have been observing me too, he came
round and said hello. I am not good in crowds, but if anyone makes a beeline
towards me, I might just be eased out of my shell; and did he not tease me out
of my social reclusiveness.
Conversation Never
Stopped
We started to talk,
then went to the bar and ordered drinks. I would usually be teetotal, but time
slipped away until he had to go; he was returning to Bulawayo late the next
day. I used the opportunity to ask whether we could have lunch together, before
his departure for Zimbabwe.
I was about to hail a
cab when his friend offered to give me a lift to my hotel. The lively
conversation continued in the car until I was dropped off. Our earlier exchange
of phone numbers meant the chatting carried on through the night, until we were
overcome by tiredness.
Meeting Brian
Just before noon, I
asked whether he was still up for lunch. That was our first date. When I left
the UK, I was nine years into grieving the loss of a friend, a loss that
carried the undercurrent of never having had the opportunity to say goodbye. I
left Johannesburg having made a friend with whom the communication and
conversation never stopped.
There was a
connection between us and, though we only had a brief moment together, we were
back seeing each other in late February. That is how I met Brian, who is 49
today.
