"Mike Resnick - Between the Sunlight and Thunder (2)" - читать интересную книгу автора (Resnick Mike)

Mugabe continually gives lip service to communism, but it's a capitalist country from top to
bottom...and unlike most African countries, it works. The roads are all paved, the electricity
works
around the clock, the water is safe to drink, there are schools every couple of miles throughout
the
countryside, poachers have made almost no inroads in most of the game parks, and unemployment
doesn't seem to be much of a problem. In fact, I would say that Zimbabwe is as well-developed, and
runs as smoothly, as most Eastern European nations. I realize that doesn't sound like much, but
when
you compare it to Kenya or Tanzania or Zambia, it's a quantum leap forward. I signed copies of
Ivory and Paradise in a local bookstore, then returned to Meikles and changed for dinner. We ate
at
the Bagatelle, a 5-star dining room in the hotel, where, in a delightful twist, the proprietors
were black


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and the piano player was white.

August 31: When I checked out in the morning, I presented Meikles with a paid voucher -- which
they refused to accept. Evidently they had been paid in Zimbabwean dollars, and because the
country is so starved for hard currency, they have a law stating that all foreign travelers must
pay in
their own currency. So I very begrudgingly paid for my room for a second time, and made a mental
note to bill the travel agency. We had decided to begin our safari in Botswana (formerly
Bechuanaland)...but, because we would be flying around the country in 5-seaters with severe weight
limitations, we first flew to the Victoria Falls Hotel, where we left some of our luggage. The
hotel
itself is an old colonial structure that reminded me of some of the better British hotels in the
Brighton
area. We had seen a sign in the Victoria Falls airport telling us that we must report at least an
hour
early for international flights or run the risk of having our seats sold. Our flight to Botswana
was due
to leave at 2:30 in the afternoon, and the bus from the hotel didn't leave until 1:30. A number of
people who were taking the flight panicked, and began offering up to $100 to anyone who would
drive them to the airport and get them there by 1:30. Since the flight is scheduled three times a
week,
we figured that the hotel hadn't received any complaints about it, and waited for the bus. It got
us
there at about 2:00, and the Botswana plane didn't show up for another two hours (par for the
course, the flight attendant later admitted.) The flight to Maun, Botswana took perhaps an hour,
and
shortly thereafter we were ensconced in Riley's Hotel, which has a long and colorful history from
colonial times, but has become a rather dull hostelry in the middle of a rather dull town.

September 1: When I stopped by the desk to hand in my voucher, they announced that they had no
record of a previous payment, and I would have to pay for the room. At this point I hit the roof,