By Jack Brezina/contributing writer

Readers will recall that I make a point of not discussing personal issues, especially those related to health matters in this space, so this exception then proves the rule. I can relate this now, as significant time has passed and I have just completed a four injection regimen and consider myself to be rabies-free. But I am getting ahead of myself.

In early March, we had the pleasure of travelling to Victoria Falls to meet our in-laws and, of course, take in the sights. First on that list was a visit to the falls itself, and that is where the vicious attack occurred.

The falls is bisected by the border between Zimbabwe and Zambia, but by far the best viewing of this thundering cascade is from Zim. A national park, with a trail, follows the edge of the canyon on the Zimbabwe side of the river, allowing for a number of spectacular viewing stations along the way.

I was travelling with a large group and we had just left the statue of Doctor David Livingstone, who looks somewhat forlornly out at the Devil’s Cataract, the start of a series of individual falls that stretch for 1.7 kilometres (just shy of a mile) and make up this spectacular natural wonder of the world.

The next station was the chain walk which descends partway into the 108-metre gorge. After the exertion of not only going down the steps, but also returning to the trail above, I sought the solace of a convenient bench to rest my tired legs. Little did I realize the twist of fate that awaited me.

My companions had walked on and I was momentarily defenseless and a sitting duck. It was as I stood to take yet another photo of the tumbling cascade, that I was assaulted. A vervet monkey, (Chlorocebus pygerythrus), taking advantage of my diverted attention, swung down from the trees and, placing his hands on my, (for the more delicate among you, I will not use the word bum and any other three letter common terms), gluteus maximus and gave me a shove.

Though shocked by this brutal and unprovoked attack, I was able to maintain my composure as the simian scampered over to a nearby trash can, where it perched, perhaps planning a second assault. Knowing I was within earshot of Dr. Livingstone, I was able to restrain myself, but I severely chastised the vervet and threatened legal action or worse. The monkey eyed me with what I was sure was contrition or perhaps derision and, before I could secure his name and license number, he scampered off into the undergrowth.

I rejoined my party and explained what had just happened, much to their chagrin … a state that would continue for the remainder of our stay. We slipped into the bushes where my wife examined the site of the violation and declared there was indeed a scratch on my right cheek. Ever resourceful, especially in this day and age, she extracted alcohol infused wipes followed by liquid hand sanitizer and I cleansed the offended area.

Needless to say the tragic incident quickly became the talk of the group and, though I was still recovering from the attack, I became what can only be described as the butt of jokes for the rest of the day and week. The juvenile humour continued back at our accommodation and into the evening as a doctor had been called. He arrived with a nurse, a pharmacist and three staff members from the resort, all wanting to see the guy apparently everyone was talking about. The doctor examined the wound, declared it properly attended to and that I was likely to survive. He injected the first of four anti-rabies shots and handed me a course of antibiotics.

I am pleased to report the good news: the final of four anti-rabies vaccines was administered Monday at the Minden Hospital and I am well on my way to a complete recovery. My butt has healed. But, and this is a big but, I fear I will continue to be the butt of monkey memes for some time to come. And that is how I spent my March break

By Lisa Gervais

This past weekend – and continuing into this week – I’ve been disturbed by the social media exchanges between full-time residents and our cottagers.

For weeks, locals have been saying that they were uncomfortable with the influx of seasonal residents over March break and extending into the now three weeks since. People were sending us emails telling us the grocery stores and pharmacies in Haliburton and Minden, and presumably Wilberforce and Dorset, were full of seasonal residents buying up stock and not practicing social distancing.

We heard stories of van loads stopping at gas stations and not following provincial COVID-19 guidelines. There were tales of city dwellers descending on cottages en masse and congregating in driveways.

Perhaps some of this did happen. Maybe not. There’s a pretty good chance some all-year residents were also engaging in risky health practices. As always, the truth lies somewhere in the middle.

In times such as these, fear and anxiety tend to override common sense. The panic gets in the way of civility. Locals lashed out. They told cottagers to stay away. They were upset they were buying supplies when the local supply chain is not set up for an influx of visitors in March and into early April. It hasn’t been about stuff either. They expressed concern that out-of-towners coming from more densely-populated places could speed up the transmission of the virus locally. If there was a spread, how could our tiny hospitals – with 15 beds, four transport ventilators and no intensive care units – cope. They were justified in their concerns.

As for seasonal folk, one can understand their desire to get away from the city. Living on top of one’s neighbour makes it hard to practice social distancing to the same extent and one is exposed to the virus to a greater degree. With the walls closing in, why not go to the cottage? After all, it’s bought and paid for, including with hefty municipal taxes. They were justified in their reasoning.

The problem rested with those who did not follow the rules: who stopped for a big shop on their way and didn’t keep six feet apart. Those who have come without stopping, bringing weeks and months of supplies, and social distancing, are welcome. They are not putting anybody at risk. And those who have said, if they feel unwell, they will directly drive back to the city, are appreciated.

What is not acceptable is the hateful vitriol on social media and the veiled – and in some cases – not veiled threats. Some locals have been very courteous in asking (as has Premier Doug Ford, County Warden Liz Danielsen and the physicians of Haliburton County) cottagers to consider staying in their primary residences for the duration of COVID-19. Others have not. They have been extremely rude and forgotten how important our neighbours from the south are to us. I don’t just mean financially, either. Many have been coming for decades and are our friends.

In the same way, I have to chastise those cottagers who have gotten on their high horses, stubbornly saying they own the place, pay taxes, and if it wasn’t for them, we would all be financially doomed. Some have threatened to never shop locally again after the dust settles.

C’mon, people. I know everyone is on edge. However, there is no need for the angst and fear to spill over into our decades-old relationship. Let’s remember the one thing we all have in common and that is our love of Haliburton County. Let’s not do any more to destroy that. After all, COVID-19 will end and we have to go back to living with each other.