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I walked into the Cape Town airport with razor blades tickling my thoughts and drops of metal falling into my empty stomach. This was finally happening. After a few months of stress and planning and even some basic training in CPR and childcare, I was going to leave the only home I've ever known to travel to the opposite side of the planet and live with strangers for a year. My mind was racing, and my breathing was starting to get laboured.

"Hey, get a move on, idiot, your parents are waiting for us at Spur," my best friend called out from beside me. She grunted as she lunged the last of her luggage onto the conveyor belt at the airport luggage check-in station.

It's been a solid year since I met her in the middle of our senior year. While the rest of our friends went off to university, Lara was the only one to stay behind with me and explore the working world before we both decided it was best to leave home and see what the world had in store for us. She convinced her parents that studying in their family home, in Germany was the best thing for her future. Convincing them that moonlighting as a waitress for the past 4 months while I minded kids at the same restaurant was a bit of a harder sell. Lara, however, is a great wordsmith and her parents don't really care about what she does as long as it's in the best interest of their family name.

Hence, a trip to Europe. I wish we could both be in the same city or at least country but that didn't work out. According to Lara, it's best that I go alone to a place where nobody knows me. Apparently, I will get an opportunity to reinvent myself. While I'm not entirely sure how one reinvents the person, they've been for eighteen years, who am I to argue with the person to teach me about human perception?

All I know is that I don't want to be who I've been so far so if there's a chance for change, hopefully for the better, I'm going to take it.

"I already asked your mom to order you the ribs you like, allspice no meat," she said after she placed my bag on the conveyor belt as well.

I started salivating at the sound of my favourite dish. She thought I was an idiot for not eating meat, but it was one of the few things that made sense to me. One thing that dating, kinda dating, Sage taught me was how violently and inhumanely the meat industry treated animals. We were in grade 10 when she showed me a video about how they whacked baby chicks to remove their feathers and cut off their beaks. It was safe to say, that I immediately swore off chicken and the rest of the meat industry, including my beloved chicken strips after that.

We made our way up to the Spur Steakhouse, a holy place to the coloured community, and were greeted with an onslaught of hugs and good wishes from extended family members. They all took turns joking with me about the Dutch colonisers and then turning towards to Lara to send them chocolate from Germany. She was used to the semi-racist humour common in my family. She laughed louder than any of them did because she knew it wasn't based on anything other than banter and humour. She just seemed happy to be around my family most of the time.

I went over to my mom and aunt who were speaking to the waitresses and coordinating everyone's meals. There were about 20 or more people stuffed into one section of the spur restaurant. The bulk of them were from Athlone so they were revelling in being at a non-halal Spur most of my uncles were enjoying beer with their meals and well beer is always a great compliment to any family gathering it also serves as a perfect excuse for loud cheer.

"Are you nervous, sweetie?" my aunty asked me. She was dressed in a black Adidas tracksuit with her jet-black shoulder-length hair straight irons flat and clipped back with a clear plastic hair clip.

I laughed slightly and shook my head with a burning stomach. I turned to look at Lara who had my oldest cousin's arm wrapped around her neck. They were laughing at someone my second cousin said based on his wild hand gestures towards them. She opted for a Dutch braid down the back of her head with each brunette plait only just reaching her shoulder. She said we should do it In solidarity with the Dutch when we reach Amsterdam. She was the one who suggested that we fly to Amsterdam together and then she was taking a train to Wiemer in southern Germany. She got accepted to study Art and Design at Bauhaus-Universität Weimar, but she still wasn't entirely sure if she'd stick to Art as her major once we returned to South Africa. It was just eh only degree she could think of that would instantly piss off her parents.

My family was quite creative with most of my cousins, including me, being able to draw or paint naturally well from a young age. My older cousin, Jason, was actually considering pursuing Architecture before he ultimately selected civil engineering as his field of study. I was just happy that they accepted her with open arms considering I wouldn't have been the person I am today if I hadn't met her in my matric year. She saved me from some of the most devastating mistakes I could have made that would have cursed me into a life of mediocrity and internal suffering.

"So, you're really doing this. You're leaving me to go to Europe," the unmistakable voice of my former best friend and girlfriend sounded from behind me. At this point, I walked away from my family to watch the planes depart and return on the airport's tarmac. The airport had floor-to-ceiling windows that wrapped around most of the top floor and the sun was already set so the only lights were from the distant houses and the airstrip lips that the pilots used to navigate.

I turned to face the strawberry-blonde girl who used to own my heart and offered her a playful smile.

"I'm not leaving you, Sage. Lara and I are simply exploring the next stage of our lives and Europe seems like a fun place to do that. Besides, aren't you the one who chose to go to Stellies? I mean you were the one who suggested this program in the first place, so I don't know why you didn't just join us," I said.

She bit her lip and looked at me with sad eyes. There wasn't much to say on top of that that we haven't discussed at length already.

"Just don't forget me, okay?" her voice cracked like it got caught in her throat while she spoke. A few tears fell from her teal-coloured eyes that I wiped away with the pad of my thumb.

"I wouldn't if I could," I answered in a hoarse voice with tears burning my own eyes. I embraced her in my arms and inhaled her vanilla scent as deeply as I could before pulling away. I felt her put something in my hands. It was a letter in a pink Hello Kitty envelope, one of her little sister's favourite characters. I moved to open it but she stopped me.

"Promise me you won't read this until you're on the plane," she whispered. I looked up into her reddened eyes and nodded my head.

I spent the rest of my waiting time with my younger sister and mom reassuring them that I would call them frequently and that I'd do my level best to stay safe in the strange country. I also promised that I'd bring them something cool home when I returned exactly 1 year.

One thing I learnt from the VISA process was that the Dutch may be even more precise than the Germans. So, when they said it was a one-year VISA, I would not be surprised to find someone standing in front of my bedroom door in the Netherlands with a clock as soon as 364 days and 23 hours were done.

"Hey, they just announced that our gate is closing," Lara rushed out and pulled at my arm. My eyes widened as I turned to pry my mom's arms off me.

"I love you," she cried out and I replied with "I love you too, mommy," before turning to wave at everyone while already in a half sprint towards the escalator.

"Come on! If that gate closes, we're stuck in this country and all those hugs and kisses were for nothing," Lara shouts over her shoulder as she runs across the yellowish-tiled floor of the Cape Town airport. I barely heard what the lady checking my passport said before I raced down the corridor towards the flight hangers. I never knew that the airport was so big until that exact moment.

We were a second away from the air hostess closing the door but when she saw us panting and sprinting down the corridor toward her, she shook her head while chuckling. She did quick work of checking our flight tickets and then showing us to our seats.

If the luxury and great service of the royal KLM airline was any indicator of the Dutch country, then I was going to be stepping into a fairytale.