It is under two years since my last step onto African soil. This return needed a completely different route. Different Route, Why?, you say. Coming from Canada you have only so many choices, not really very dissimilar to the USA. One way or the other you have to get across that Ocean, but for us there are a few more issues cutting through US airspace. That 4 hour wait in Toronto to even get near a Customs officer. Breaking through the lineup when there is only a half hour left to departure, the rules for jumping the que at YYZ. ( What does that tell you when they have a policy in place for jumping the que) Then of course you have to break into the security line to get through after that. Never mind the fun of changing planes in Washington, or New York or whatever other connection. That's all on the way there while your excited so you brush it off. The return trip was punctuated with delays; Apparently a bomb threat against the plane. Three passenger screenings before getting on the plane, then the planes luggage was completely unloaded in Dakar, the passenger compartment was searched (any seat where someone had just deplaned). Fair enough, the baggage count was now correct, but the stone was cast for the trip now. There would be no hope of connecting to anything previously scheduled. Entering the US on the return was the first time I ever noticed that countries provide special treatment to their own citizens. Why I noticed was the fact that although I lined up third in line to speak to an Customs officer I was the LAST person to be attended to from an entire plane load. The citizens were processed first. I was still in denial about getting a connection. (Sleep deprivation from being bumped by the ample flight attendant all night long.) You have heard the term puff of smoke. Well the connection dream went up just like one. A star alliance partner managed to get me on the next flight "away from him" but proceeded to make sure I had another "recreational break" at my next connection. With delays and cancellation on the return trip it was 46 HOURS straight in transit. I used to love flying, now, not so much. Thankfully, humans must have an innate amnesia that allows us to slough those horrible feelings into some recess where they are not easily accessible. The research started as soon as the memories started to fade. The trophies came home, some so quickly I was shocked. issues with the wrong trophies being shipped to me. Kudu hiding out in bars enroute, you know the usual stuff. Three sets for me in all. Christmas Other buddies trophies soon followed. The last of the groups trophies just arrived a month ago! The flights are already booked for the RETURN! FRANKFURT DIRECT. One plane, one country. See a chunk of Europe for the first time. Ok, I will have a few beer and a schnitzel in an attempt to cross over the time zones in a day. Then FRANKFURT to WINDHOEK DIRECT over night. Ready to roll in the morning upon arrival. Namibia was my first touch down point and my first hunt. Wide open spaces, not crowded. If I was not so tired after my first arrival I would have had pictures. What helps you forget the air travel: This was my first sunset in Africa near Otavi, Namibia. My first Kudu materializing out of the bush. Eland Bull tracks, what would be my first African animal. Why start small !