Folio Deadlines – Reminder

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One thought on “Folio Deadlines – Reminder

  1. The African Man

    Travelling comes almost naturally to me. Trains to Europe; ferry rides to small remote islands; lengthy flights around the globe. Heaven. Yet money is easy (considering my luck when conceiving a small fortune as a child). Nowhere is too hot, too shrill, too vast or too wet. As someone once said to me: Life’s a game of opportunity, play it right and who know what you may find. In my case, different cities become gold minds, hidden gems, surrounded by crystal clear water of indescribable tranquillity. The tweet of a golden bird, the rustle of exotic palm tree becomes enchantment upon your eyes making you search deeper into your destination, uncovering more than just tourist attractions and chlorine filled pools. And that’s where I landed in the unknown.

    Waking up the next morning was no piece of cake; reality hit me and hit me hard. My girlfriends left me one by one to catch their early flights back to the UK while I sat and watched the repetitive foreign news. Sitting eating cornflakes and downing aspirin with coconut milk, I booked a flight to the beautiful country of Kenya. South Africa had always on my bucket list yet never before did it occur to me approach this continent. Last minute flight meant last minute packing which has always been my forty. As strange as it sounds, I love the excitement of running about a room chucking things into your small suitcase, then sitting on it praying that the over load of clothes will shrink down to two t-shirts and a tooth brush.

    As I landed in Kenya the sun blinded my eyes but caressed my body in warm ripples. Dry land and no clouds in sight, stunning. Feeling fresh as a daisy yet with two hours of sleep, somehow the run down b&b almost looked like a deluxe five star hotel compared to its lopsided appearance. It was tucked away on the border of the city: long straw grass covered a large plot of land stretching for miles across the border with a gigantic tree slanted in the centre. I wondered what nature may hold in the distance of this breath taking view from the colossal window in the front room. A quick shower and dressed, I packed my rucksack and began walking. Indecisive about my whereabouts I walked forwards in to the unknown searching for something unidentified in my mind. Wearing shorts and a pink floral bando the sweat still trickled down my face, wetting my newly washed blonde locks. This may be a dangerous expedition but no one could stop me or my conscience from what lay ahead.

    As I climbed over what could only be described as Mount Everest, I saw a small lake. Extremely thirsty and in need of a well deserved rest, I started pacing fast towards the water. Unaware of the dangers, my body fell into the deep river and floated in the cool water. My eyes were shut. Suddenly I begin to feel uneasy and sensed danger. I heard a russle coming from the bushes across from me. Something loud yet sly. CROCODILE. Swimming for my life to reach the other side of the river, the beast begins to slip into the lake. Turning round to check where he was I become terrified as to were he is, out of sight. Trembling, sweating, drowning. I scream in fear.

    A bang. To my horror, I lift my face to see a face. The beaming sun bounced of his dark skin. With traditional clothing in golden hues he stared intensely towards me. Dark and beautiful, these eyes could stab daggers unto your soul yet forgiveness is all I could give. Shimmering bangles and painted tribal red he held a gun in his right hand and turned to smile at me. He walked north. Through the dry landscape approaching the long necked giants. Fearless and strong, he confidently strode through the African Wilderness. I jumped out of the water to shout, “Hello? Who are you Mr? Hello?” He kept walking. What else could I do? This stranger had just saved my life in the middle of Africa. A miracle was just performed.

    Later that night I stared out of the window into the beautiful sunset that lit up the dull home. I couldn’t help but get flashbacks to four hours previous. Who was this man? But as much as I could think or pray that we would randomly bump into each other while collecting souvenirs in town the following day was a dream. Reflecting back on this experience helped me understand not to take life for granted and keep travelling until the day I die, whether that’s in a hospital in India when I am ninety-six or in the Mediterranean Sea searching for instinct animals. Who knows?

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