Tag 1: The affair with the pillow

We start our journey in Vienna. According to the prevailing Western gender stereotypes, Gudi has four times more luggage than me. Wait! Reverse that. Gudi travels with what feels like daily luggage, while I have to move half of my belongings around the world, partly due to my journalistic activities. This first becomes apparent at our first stopover. We thought we were being particularly adventurous and took advantage of the forced stop in Madrid to explore the city. The problem is that my carry-on bag is much heavier than my checked luggage. Taking a sleeping bag, laptop, and seven books on the plane, however, is primarily a sign of excellent preparation - you never know what you might want to read. And it leads to back pain. Of course, I don't show any signs of it, but I'm quite happy that football-crazy Gudrun can't resist watching both matches of the day in various bars. Despite my immense thirst for cultural knowledge, I also succumb to temptation, and we spend the afternoon in the city center of Madrid with beer, sangria, and paella. There is little else to report. Madrid is comparable to other European capitals in certain respects. Only the residents are hardly taller than an elementary school student in Austria. Out of respect for the indigenous population and because even I have to succumb to gravity, I approach the rest of the pack in terms of height during our one and a half hour walk. Books number six and seven may have been a bit overkill and result in an acute decrease in my spinal discs. In addition, my shrinking height brings my ear exactly to the level of my girlfriend's mouth. And she never tires of pointing out that she will now pack my luggage and that I am incredibly disorganized. I try to ignore the constant whispering in my head but secretly enjoy it - those who act stupid win. In retrospect, I could have at least opened one of the seven books.

Later in the evening, we leave the Spanish capital and tiredly board the plane that will chauffeur us to Johannesburg, South Africa, sharing some ingredients of the Spanish national drink in our bloodstream. Actually, we expect to be transported by a similarly uncomfortable bird as on our trip to Madrid. So I firmly believe that even I - a professional skeptic and scaredy-cat from the very beginning - will find sleep due to the conditions of fatigue, alcohol level, night, and no onboard entertainment program. Of course, it turns out differently. Although Gudi has thought ahead and brought an inflatable pillow, I gladly offer her my cushion (which the airline kindly provided) - after all, I am a gentleman. However, she does not use it to lie down but holds it tightly in her arms. Oh, how I wish I could lie in her arms like that just once. Why doesn't she cuddle with me like that? I start to see the pillow as serious competition and develop quite negative feelings towards it.

A short time later - I am still inspecting the movie selection in detail and I am reassured. Gudi may prefer my pillow, but I also get to participate in her wonderful night's sleep. Although only in the form of drool stains and snoring - but in times of need, the devil eats flies - and a man is happy not to have been completely replaced by a pile of down feathers.

While Gudi sleeps, I spend most of the night waking up shortly after falling asleep to check if the plane is not in a descent or free fall. Following the TV series Mayday - Air Crash Investigation thoroughly before the flight has its consequences. In this TV format, all plane crashes of the past decades are reenacted and investigated. As a result, every turbulence, every rattling, every loss of altitude, and even seemingly imperceptible noises trigger a movie theater in my head. Unfortunately, at the moment, I perceive myself not only as a journalist but also as a technical expert on airplanes. So sleep is initially out of the question - I have responsibility. Only at 4 am does the inevitable catch up with me, and I change sides - to Gudi's dreamland. When I wake up, I find myself in Africa.