Day 1/2, Friday/Saturday, May 17/18, 2013 (remember the time change): At last the trip is ready to begin. Up at 7am and on to the airport; dropped off at the newly renovated terminal at DFW. No one at the curb-side check-in! Short line at security!! I’m off to a great start. A short flight on American to Houston. I discover my bag is not checked through, so I have to claim it and start all over again. Before that, I have to find my luggage tag lost somewhere (along with my Delta SkyMiles tag…hmmm). The young man makes a call and reports I’m out of luck. This reiterated by a pointed finger at the sign absolving AA of any responsibility. After a fruitless search for a replacement I check in with KLM. I’m given a temporary tag to get me on my way. There’s still plenty of time to find a lounge and enjoy the benefits of the SkyClub membership I purchased from Delta. Searching about I find the KLM lounge. This is the airline I am flying to SA. I’m greeted warmly and informed that only Gold and higher may come in. I must take my Silver membership somewhere else. She seemed truly sorry. No worries as I will find the Air France lounge. I stepped in to be greeted courteously, if a bit stiffly and formally. No access, sir. She does not seem to be sorry. In fact, after announcing I would not be coming in, she stared at me as if thinking “why are you still here?”. So much for my plans to spend my waiting time in comfort and seclusion. Back out with the rabble, where I belong. Soon I’m boarding the flight to Amsterdam. Now my Silver status comes in handy allowing me to board early and get prime storage space for my backpack. It was a long, but good flight. KLM has some great flight attendants. Plenty of food and beverages. I even get a cognac after dinner. Then to the long (and I mean long) trek through the Schipol Airport. On the lookout for a Dutch coffee and having no luck. Starbucks! Thoughts of the local brew disappear as I get in line. They don’t recognize the Gold card just yet, but no matter. I go through security again (Silver helps again by getting expedited) and get to keep my shoes on. Everything else has to come off as in the US. I nearly get in trouble for carrying a bottle of water from the plane. The security lady is nice about it and sends me on my way. Second leg goes as well as it can. This is the longest leg at 10 hours. It’s also the leg that takes me down. I try to stay awake to get in sync with the local time of my destination, but I fail again and again. Rain greets us as we touch down. It’s a quick pass through customs and a long wait at baggage claim. Inaudible announcements are made again and again. The accents are going to take some time to get used to. Finally my bag appears with the priority tag intact and obviously ignored. I drag my weary butt to the entrance, hoping my ride is still waiting for me. There he is, Jerry, with his hand printed sign with my name on it. I get what I find later to be the SA hand shake (handshake, thumb grip, handshake). He was great company on the 30 minute drive to the hotel; complicated by the rain and two accidents. I got some tips on what to do and see. He shares a birthday with Nelson Mandela he is proud to say. I hope to see him on the way back to the airport at the end of this trip. After 31 hours I am at my final destination. All the hotel staff greets me with smiles and hellos. I’m upgraded to the Executive Level. I’m grateful, but I would take a bed in a broom closet. I have three things on my mind at this point in time. Brush my teeth, take a shower and get in bed. I’ll have to pop a pill to get to sleep. There’s a treat waiting for me in addition to the view. A plate of dried fruit and nuts with three bottles (water, sparkling water and a South African red wine). I don’t bother to unpack. That can wait until tomorrow. No water at the sink!? A quick hysterical check of the shower, bath tub and toilet confirms that this is the only plumbing trouble in the room. I call for help and get a return call from Julius, the maintenance man, a short while later asking do I want his help. Of course I do. Why the call? He tells me he had knocked on the door ever so quietly and received no answer. I had left my Do Not Disturb sign out. That’s how kind and considerate I will be treated as my stay progresses. I apologize for the confusion and enjoy my snack while he works. Five minutes later he is gone with a smile and I am drowning myself. I use the last of my tooth paste. There’s always something forgotten when planning a trip. I climb into bed and nod off quickly, in spite of my trans-African naps.