She's Coming in Twelve-thirty Flight

Friday morning was the big day – Julia’s ship was coming in (literally).  We had been told not to rush – to get to the dock by 9:30am or so.  My plan was to get up early, work, wake Carol up, have a leisurely breakfast, and then head over to the dock.

The SAS people have been great on this tour so far, but they never told us how to get to the dock.  Around 8am we started getting emails that the ship had come in early and we had better get over to the dock.  I rushed Carol along, as I had visions of Julia waiting forlornly by herself at the dock.  We skipped breakfast so that our world traveler didn’t feel ignored!

While I had no idea where the dock was, fortunately, we found out from another family it was too far to walk (very true).  We shared a cab with friends we had made the night before.  The cabbie, and all four of us, had no idea where the dock was (there are multiple docks), so we drove around the docks of Cape Town searching for the right cruise ship.  It was somewhat comical – the cabbie drove up and down streets, asking and getting incomplete directions.

Finally we arrived at the ship.  And they were not even close to ready to let us board.  South African customs were still on the ship.  Contrary to shipboard rumor, they did not bring dogs to search each room.  But, they were not fast.  We stood outside waiting with the other parents (out of the 550 students on the trip, maybe 20-25 families did the family trip).

I called Julia – she came to the outside of the MV Explorer and waved to us.  We must have locked like ants from up where she was looking down on us.  We were excited and impatient ants, but ants nonetheless.

And we were waiting.  And waiting.  And waiting.  Finally they let us go to the bottom of the thing you walk down to get off the ship (or up to get on it).

Progress!

Or not.  We waited some more.  A lot more.  Someone from the State Department had to show up to give a safety briefing to the students (for Cape Town?  Are you kidding me?  I know, they have to just to be safe and cover their butts).  They finally let us, Noah-like, on the ship either two-by-two or four at a time.  We went where we were sent – the Garden Lounge on the 6th deck of the ship.  And, shockingly, waited some more.

It was like a hostage release.  A few kids trickled in to the joy and tears of their parents.  Finally, they let all the hostages go after what must have been tense negotiations (or bureaucracy) and they all came flooding in.  Julia was toward the back of the pack.  We all hugged, and took some pictures inside and outside.

We did not cry.  We were happy to see her, but this is what children are supposed to do – grow up and have adventures.  Do we miss her?  Yes, but more importantly we are excited and proud for her.  She has already been to more countries in her life than I have (of course, she’s gone with us to all of the European ones she’s hit!).  If you haven’t read her blog for this trip, it’s very interesting and well worth a read.

Anyhow, she showed us her room (it’s a single now – long story about her roommate having to leave the ship back in China), and took us on a tour of the ship.  We kept running into friends of hers, which was great fun.  They all thought it was pretty cool that we came on the trip, and that we had already been to the top of Table Mountain, to the Castle, and to Signal Hill.

Julia also turned in her Yellow Fever card.  That was dodging a bullet.  They had lost her first copy, and she would not be allowed off the ship in Ghana or Morocco if they did not have it on file (bureaucracy losing something?  Hard to believe!).  A friend at UVA went, got it, and UPS’d it to us to arrive the day we flew over.  Phew – or else we would have spent time in Cape Town tracking down a doctor (Carol already had done that as a back-up plan) and getting another Yellow Fever shot (which Julia would not have been too hot on!).

When we got off the ship, there were many students milling around – and some parents.  But only two cabs – both of which had parents talking to the cabbies, but not getting in the cabs (which makes it harder to go anywhere).  And the dock might be in the center of Cape Town’s docks, but it’s nowhere near anything.  So I walked up to one cabbie, and asked him to call other cabs.  He gestured to the other family, said “they are still arguing about where to go,” and told us to get in.  So we did.  We headed to the hotel.