The Viennese are like Muscovites in so many ways. They're indifferent, rude and frequently nasty. Even the marginalized ones, who've been brought in from other countries to do the work the Viennese don't want to do, seem to wish all of us outsiders would just go away. The only discernible difference between a native of Vienna and a Moscow homie is their attire. The Viennese, even when walking their dogs, dress as though they're off to the Ball of the Century.    


At Blyde River Wilderness Lodge just outside Hoedspruit, South Africa, we've got nyalas, blue wildebeest, peacocks, horses, and even a cat, right outside the door to our cabina. And down by the river, crocodiles live. We've been told to stay at least three metres from shore for fear of getting grabbed and hauled to the bottom for lunch. Earlier today, Jim and Mary, our amigos from British Columbia in western Canada, along with Elenka, went on a nature walk where they saw giraffe and zebra. Elenka's in wild-animal Heaven. This morning I got up, walked out the door of our cabina barefoot, and stepped in poop. It's the first time I've done that and smiled.  

 

Vienna is where our journey to South Africa began. We hooked up with Jim and Mary who'd travelled by ship up the Norwegian coast, north of the Arctic Circle, and back. When we arrived in Johannesburg, we rented a car at the airport and headed straight for the Blyde River Canyon. Tomorrow we're off to Kruger National Park in search of animals that become perturbed when poked, prodded or provoked.