Swim anyone? By Yvonne J. Kachel

Night has fallen, the wild safari park gates are closed and I wait while my friends book us into our small cottage. Its been a hot day so I rest my posterior on the rim of the large concrete pool thinking its a poor excuse for a swimming pool. Zimbabwe and its culture, people and travel have been wondrous. I sing, swing my legs and then I feel movement. The air is suddenly cold and as I start to turn towards the water I see two pairs of eyes and the long snouts of maneaters who see me as dinner. Never have I moved so fast and never have swear words darkened the air in such numbers.

As I race into the safety of the reception area I see the battered old wooden sign which states in English "Beware Crocodiles." It is resting by the door. My friends laugh. I don't. Next day we are witness to crocodiles sliding in and out of the huge lake and I shudder with revulsion.
My swimmers stay in the bag.

in Zimbabwe


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