It’s amazing how quickly one’s fear and bloodlust can be assuaged with a glass of bubbly and a peanut.
The noise that a hippopotamus makes is something that can never be unheard. It’s like a cross between a large dog drowning and a seriously malfunctioning whoopee cushion.
Experienced in a zoo it’s quite amusing, a wet snort that might have come from behind the bathroom door when your father is washing his face and clearing his nose at the same time. Well, my dad, anyway.
In the wilds of Africa, though, when you are balanced in a narrow dugout canoe slung low in the water and surrounded by tall reeds, it’s another kettle of 1500 kilogram killing machine. Suddenly that moist flatulence is less than amusing. And it’s getting closer, isn’t it? I’m sure it’s getting closer.
I’m keeping this all to myself, of course.