Our time in London ended on January 6th. We boarded our plane at Heathrow, wearing many layers, knowing that the temperature would go from cold to warm to hot – London to the Middle East and finally to South Africa. Our layover in the Middle East was so short that we actually walked off one plane and boarded straight onto the next without stopping. We arrived in Johannesburg two days after departure to be welcomed by our bus driver holding a sign saying “World Rays” (a simple misunderstanding, but just another reminder of the heat we were about to encounter.)
As if our 16 hour plane rides weren’t enough, our trip from the airport to our ministry location was a straight shot, non-stop drive in a crowded passenger van – rounding out at an additional 26 hours. Halfway through the drive, we dropped off half of our squad (Teams Kiatera, 5-Alive, the Alonzos and the Bruces) in a small village outside of Maputo, Mozambique, where they worked with Hymn ministries to church plant throughout the surrounding villages.
After we dropped them off, we continued on our journey towards our ministry point in Vilanculos, Mozambique. We piled into the musty van with the remaining 16 (us Pratts, Pi and Joy) to travel through the night, tossing around from the myriad of potholes along the dirt roads. We were so tired that those of us in the middle seats would fall asleep sitting straight up. Johnny said my head was nodding so much that I would make a loud grunting noise due to the force and speed of which my head would fall (lovely).
A non-stop, three-day travel period was a first for me. I remember back in college when I’d drive just three hours from school to home and I would be spent, sleeping or lounging the remainder of the day. But the recuperation time held true, we actually spent 4 entire days after we arrived to just regain our strength and get our bodies back on track.
One phenomenon as a side effect of travel I never knew about was swollen ankles, also known as “cankles.” I had my first case of cankles early on in the race, but it wasn’t until 3 days of travel that you couldn’t tell my calves from my ankles – the very reason for the name, cankles or calf-ankles. Anyway, they hurt and look goofy and I hope to never have them again.
