Aside from some Chinese businessmen in our hotel, everyone I saw—everyone—was Caucasian. This is often the case in Eastern European countries no one wants to immigrate to. A few years back, in Romania, we were told about a Syrian man who arrived in Bucharest having walked eight hundred miles from Aleppo. When he learned that he was not in Austria, the refugee wept, put his blood-soaked shoes back on, and hit the road for Vienna.
