How Decisions Are Made

You have to do it because you must do it.
So here we are in Africa. Been here for 4 months, waiting and listening. Why? Because we had to. No choice. And still, despite all the danger, setbacks and corruption, i believe we are where were meant to be and i can't wait to get further into it!

A friend told me once that i have a responsibility to protect my wife. But i feel that first i must support and assist her in what she wants to do. This time it was come to this place far away from what we know, riddled with
I respect her wishes and am now happy for her that she is neck deep into it. It is like one in which i found myself before finding her.

Like fishing. You can not do it because you want to. You have to be without any other choice. Other than going ashore of course, but then you would be a fisherman not fishing.
I hated it, yet i did it over seven years. Day after day i stepped myself back aboard, season after sunny season. My fish barrel was not empty when i was done and i sure saw some sights at sea while on the job.

So far we have spent almost half of the kitty. The cash i was planning on being the retirement fund is 40% gone in four months. I have 60% more time to think about it.

Or New Orleans. I foul pit with four young bodies steaming out last nights rotten vodka was assigned to me as my room in the backpackers.
I booked a ticket out of there before the night. But my ticket did not come until 6 months later, and by that time, i had already begun to learn the blues. And for my time there, that sweet southern song of a time, i would not know who to thank because it was bigger than the stars.

After going to Australia, where all seems picture perfect with no crime. We made the plan, against old dreams, to cut the Africa trip short. Re-home Zoe, Marea, Agy and Ruby. Sell the motorhome, dirtbike and give away all the tools and equipment we had gathered.
But no thing has yet been shed. We are a couple with bags packed and on the road without a ride is still on the road, there aint no getting off. Weather we like it or not, we are Safari bound.
Once again, there is no decision to make.

There is Tony the taxi guy too. Is he a friend? Hard to say, we have to pay him royally to drive us to town. And we must get driven to town to get groceries. I only once caught a mini taxi in this area. Well actually a guy driving a mini pick-up stopped to enquire how long we had been waiting so the others i piled in the back. He took me to town. I told the motor bike salesman i caught a taxi,to check k what he would say if i had gone through with my desperate plans and gone with the locals. As almost expected, like most others i have talked with, he said ‘mate-you are lucky” , “if you walk into that taxi stand you will not walk back out again. This guy is a tank, a tattooed bike, head like a paint can sitting on top of a barrel and he says he is terrified so would ever go to the taxi stand. I believe him, taxi stands may be a dangerous place. I very well may not have walked out of there that day if i had walked in. But there was a lift, Dogtor jack happened to be in town so i rode home with him.
When it comes time to go to town for Ashley and i together, i have not since took a public taxi. It’s now exclusively Tony the taxi guy’s private ride for the Mobbs’.