Americans: making holidays grate

Accidental tourist Shelley Seid concedes that there truly is no such thing as a quiet American

We were staying at a luxury lodge in the Zambezi National Park in Zimbabwe. The eco-friendly tents were carefully hidden so as not to spoil the sweeping view of the African landscape. From the deck, the smoke of the thunderous falls was continuously visible; service was immediate and discreet, the only sound the competition among the 400 species of birds, all in full throttle, warbling their delight over a particularly wet rainy season.

Then the Americans arrived. A party of six, three couples, all of retirement age, from Chicago, US, a country where - in case I needed a reference - they also have a falls and it's called the Niagara.

At dinner, other guests sat at their candlelit tables and murmured to one another. The Americans discussed where the best bagels come from (David's in New York); whether they taste better with mozzarella cheese, cream cheese or cheddar cheese (salt beef) and how they should be made (without seeds, seeds get stuck under bridges and can even dislodge caps).

story_article_left1

There's no such thing as a free lunch, bad publicity or a quiet American, and this particular holiday seemed chockablock with Americans neither physiologically able to employ an inside voice nor to express a cogent thought.

Take the sunrise speedboat ride along the Zambezi with four of that nation's 20-somethings.

It began badly - "I just can't believe I left the campsite holding my coffee cup. And they, like, don't even mind" - and got worse.

"So did you Facebook yesterday?"

"Yaah, like, I posted photos of the bathroom."

We sped past a small pod of hippo, a crocodile and a couple of fish eagles.

"Don't you just hate people who post 'at the airport'?"

We slowed down because there was a hippo slowly walking into the water, welcomed in by a great deal of snorting, a little late from its evening feast on the river bank.

"Totes. I, like, so defriend them immediately."

"OMG, like, I'm so done with that?"

The grunting continued; a large male turned to face us and opened his mouth in a wide yawn - a sure sign of aggression.

"Why can't Facebook let you 'dislike' instead of 'like', LOL. Why don't they make that an option?"

There were other similar exchanges and we noticed that the topic of food ranked high on the American agenda.

On check in, for example, a couple tackled the doorman to make sure that their culinary directives had been followed. Within minutes we were all aware that they ate nothing but fruit and nuts, specifically granadillas, which they wanted placed in a bowl in the room and constantly replenished; grapes, black; and cashew nuts. They also wanted a helicopter trip around Victoria Falls and a discount, to offset the food they wouldn't be eating.

story_article_right2

But the conversational Oscar has to go to a 30-something, GQ cover lookalike. At breakfast, in a camp miles out of the city, in a country that is short of food, money and just about everything else, his order went like this: "I want four eggs. But I only want two yolks. I want all four whites. And then I want the ingredients you put in an omelette but I don't want peppers, I want extra mushrooms. And I don't want tomatoes unless they are cherry tomatoes. But I don't want it to be an omelette, I want it to be scrambled. And I don't want it scrambled in oil. I want it scrambled in butter. But just a little butter - and the butter must be unsalted." I left when the chef, who had been summoned by the waiter, went to find the manager.

They needed training from an elderly waiter in Zambia at a coffee shop outside Livingstone, who had clearly seen it all. He pointed to the aging coffee machine and offered the US citizens cappuccino, espresso, Americano or tea.

"Do you have decaffeinated coffee?"

"No sir,"

"Do you have red cappuccino?"

"No sir."

"What about soy milk?"

"No sir."

"Well," said the tourist, frustration oozing from every entitled pore, "What else do you have to drink?"

"Water sir," said the unbending fellow, "It's been a very wet season."

• Do you have a funny or quirky story about your travels ? Send 600 words to travelmag@sundaytimes.co.za.