Reunion (Day 2)

So meeting up with the guys at the airport obviously didn't happen. Andy was to fly in the next morning, but I woke up fairly far away. Scott had called me just before getting on the plane and told me that he could not find Tyler. I was freaking out. Cary, who had helped me arrange a driver to meet them at the airport since I would not be there, informed me that the driver never saw them. So I was freaking out even more. Eventually I got a call from Scott, who had bought a South African phone. All three of them had arrived, and I told them I was on my way. The Thatchery, the place we were staying, sent a driver who took me there.

The driver was Brendan, a college kid at the University of Western Cape. For the world cup, the winter break for schools and colleges was extended to about 7 weeks. This means that many of the temporary service and transport jobs that were created by the World Cup actually went to vacationing college kids, rather than the huge numbers of indigent unemployed laborers who the cup was supposed to benefit. Driving around Joburg, he was explaining the city to me as I was watching the drive around. More of that later.

I finally arrived to see the guys. The Thatchery is in between Pretoria and Joburg, and is normally a venue that is rented out for weddings and events. For the Cup, the owners simply bought a ton of bunk beds and packed the guesthouses full of them. We had half of one guesthouse for the four of us. This also meant that there was a good setup for a bar and restaurant. We dranks some beers and watched the first two games of the day, then arranged for a car to take us to the nearby casino. The casino had several good restaurants in it and a Fan Fest, so we ate a good dinner and went to the fest area.

It took no time at all for us to fall back into the normal routine that we had together in college. We were fascinated with the beers that had their entire tops removed when you pulled the tab, and Tyler sucked at pouring them just as much as he always has.

One of my favorite things about signs abroad is broken English or other things that could be easily solved. This one is a symolic sign fail.

Back at the Thatchery, a ton of angry Australians had arrived after attending their match earlier. They were mad at Italy, after an Italian ref had red-carded them and in 2006 an Italian dive had cost them a late penalty kick goal. Australians are definitely the most overrepresented people abroad. There aren't that many of them, but everywhere you go there are always Australians.

We played darts just like we used to do at the Saucer in Memphis. As usual, Scott sucked a lot, but this dark lodged into the cross-beam above the board is Tyler's work of art. Drunk and tired, we called it a night.