airports.

It has been a very long time since I have slept for longer than five hours. Like last Sunday, I think.

Flying from Dulles to Johannesburg was a 14 hour flight - the second longest commercial flight there is - and it felt like it. We were required to shut the shades so the cabin could sleep, but I snuck a peek outside and saw eighty million stars as we crossed the Atlantic. It was like the stars were heavy and had all sunk to the bottom half of the world. Really, it was crazy bright.

"Oooh, Mozambique? That is really Africa. Like AFRICA, Africa." - Woman next to me on the plane

The South African Airlines magazine in the front pocket did not have a single page not adorned with gems or gold or exceedingly expensive cars. The Johannesburg airport was really similar to the magazine, except there were t shirts advertising exceedingly expensive cars instead of the cars themselves. Also, there was lots of BEEF. That's in capital letters because I really mean there is a lot - dried and frozen and fresh and in chunks or steaks or served ready to eat.

When I got to Maputo, I was picked up by the hotel shuttle to a clean, beautiful hotel with a clean, beautiful bed. I dipped my feet in the pool outside - I really couldn't help it - and slept quick, because I had to get to the airport at the break of dawn. Which didn't help, because I was bumped to the evening flight and spent the last 14 hours in the airport.

It was its own little sub-culture, this airport. There were bands of schoolkids wandering the halls, troops of little boys watching the planes take off, and groups of flight attendants tittering. People hung out at the airport like they hang out at the mall. I ate sandwiches and drank ginger ale and sketched them all. It might have been the best layover ever.