Gosh, it's been almost a week since we flew home -- about 19 hours travel all told, including 6 in the Miami airport. The brain is lost somewhere over the Caribbean, I think -- I know I had it when I got on the plane! Or maybe my vagueness has to do with the two bins of mail I picked up at the post office after we got home. You can really understand the impact of junk mail when you get 9 weeks of it at once. Hopefully I didn't toss any bills out in the sorting process.

 

The rest of the trip since my last epistle was even quieter -- we read and swam and dozed and packed. The place we stayed on Barbados the last two days was peaceful and out of the way, with the big Atlantic waves rolling in and strong breezes which help make the place a surfboard kiting center. What an exciting sport that is! (to watch, I mean!) We watched the televised state funeral of a former Barbados prime minister, Sir Harold Bernard St. John, on our last day -- it was an Anglican service, very dignified but also very personal and moving. The country only has about 220,000 people, so there is much more sense of connection with the government, I think. 

 

I visited with a handsome young man with a tumble of long beaded braids, on the flight from Tobago to Barbados. He is London-born but his parents are from Grenada. He's building a house on Grenada now, for his use and his family. Lots of people from former British colonies have dual citizenship with their native country and England, because of the political connections. He's a DJ, and he travels around the world -- like to places like Dubai. (There is a whole world I know nothing about out there. You can make a living being an international DJ?) We talked mostly about food, and he asked me if we had tried any wild meat. (He has not.) Actually, there was a big dinner with wild meat near Castara while we were there, but the transporation was problematic so we skipped it. Wild meat can be Agouti (I think it's a big rodent), Tatou (armadillo), Manicou (possum), or according to my friend, even monkey. Monkey seems too close to us, don't you think? Hey, I have a cookbook with recipes for the tatou and manicou, so if you manage to bag a possum or an armadillo, bring it on up to Bellingham and we'll try it! (no road kill)

 

We've maintained our walking habit since we returned, and have found that the hills we had been mostly avoiding here are nothing! So the sybaritic life had some spa-like benefits. But I think I'm suffering from culture shock. Mostly it's about so many choices. Going out to dinner on the trip meant you chose fish, chicken or sometimes lamb or goat or shrimps, and they prepared it the way they were preparing it that night, and served it with the side dishes they were serving on the plate that night. I'm not complaining -- it was always good. We did start to get tired of the food towards the end, which surprised me a lot because I do love it. But it did become too predictable, and suddenly we began to crave steaks!

 

The other culture shock thing is to have to face my own culture again. Gosh it was refreshing to have no exposure to the media. I have been reviewing the weekly magazine we get to see what happened and who died while we were gone, and it's pretty instructive to catch up all at once, watching stories (and non-stories) unfold. 

 

But we are glad to be home, and soon this lethargy will pass. I do have some plans to put travel information and "reviews" of places we've been up on the
restlessbarb web site -- perhaps I'll send one more message to this list when (if) that is done.

 

In the meantime, thanks for listening, and please include me in on any travel journals you might keep in the future!

 

 

That's what I've been wondering -- just how much paradise is enough? Each day now I'm content, but that also means I'm "full," and don't need more. We've been reading a lot, my favorite so far being Peter Hoeg's The Woman and the Ape (I think that's the name). I'm reading the War of Don Emmanuel's Nether Parts right now. Awfully gory, also sardonic-funny. We have about four more days in Castara, then Saturday to Crown Point (airport location) for one night, and two more on Barbados before flying home next Tuesday.

 

Castara has been fun and also more relaxing -- in fact each location has been more relaxing than the last. Castara is smaller, with a smaller beach, and though there are more restaurants listed in the guidebooks, we've only been able to find three of them open. Partly it was because of Carnival, because everyone shut down during Carnival weekend and through Tuesday, and then there was the recovery time, with services spotty. There was a Sunday After Carnival beach party day before last, with speakers that vibrated the whole valley blasting from noon until 11:30 p.m. I understand that there was a fight that broke up the event, or else it would have gone on all night. We actually fell asleep to the beat before that -- at least we were at the opposite end of the beach. They had the most annoying loud DJ!

 

The beach in Castara is better swimming, with even clearer water than we've seen. Our host, Ancle (pronounced an-cil) is a dignified but friendly guy, and a helpful host. He is building a new building that blocks a bit of the ocean view from our patios, but adds more because it includes an open patio juice bar with benches overlooking the sea behind it. And internet! There is an apartment that will be beautiful upstairs. I do wonder about the sudden disappearance of three skinny, flea-infested homeless puppies that were hanging about and looking soulfully at the guests the first few days we were here.

 

We've met very few Americans here in Tobago, and none in Castara. Our friends Phil and Judy from Michigan (and their guests, the birders), and the couple from Big Lake, just east of Mount Vernon, WA -- practically our neighbors at home. There are lots of English and Germans, plus other Europeans, most recently an adorably muscular young couple from Berlin who are cycing. Yesterday a crew of 5 guys from Norway showed up, one of which we've met -- he is originally from Cypress. There was a Swiss couple who had reunited here after she spent 6 weeks crewing a charter sailboat in the Grenadines. She was totally brown from the sun, and he was European winter pale. A very international couple came yesterday also -- she from the Czech Republic, he from Australia, they met in Los Angeles and live in London. Another British family stayed a few days but left before their time was up because the bed was bad for her back, and we promptly grabbed the room because it was much bigger and more open, and our little room (named Anchovy, coulda been sardine) was feeling increasingly claustrophobic for the longish stay.

 

Sunday morning we took the bus to Parlatuvier, a gorgeous little bay about 6K up the road. We had met a friendly and talkative old guy named Splash on our previous bus trip who invited us to come on Sunday and he would show us around and show us his house and fix us a meal. That was after he offered us a nice 9:00 a.m. sip from him rum bottle. But we thought we would see -- he had told us he would be on that same 9 a.m. bus. And sure enough he was, pretty loaded, still very friendly, but he didn't recognize us, bummed $2TT (abt 35 cents US) from Mike, and we made our escape and wandered the beach on our own. I guess the name Splash came from a splash of rum.

 

Forgot to tell you about our last Charlotteville adventure. We took a kayak trip with the American expatriate Clark, which was really fun. My arm is still sore however.Mike and I had the big two man kayak, having never done it before, and the kayaking was all within the big bay. We paddled over to a far beach, and then hiked up a little river birdwatching and wandered around the ruins of an old sugar mill. Then he brought out our lunch (flying fish sandwich and a hamburger) and then paddled to another otherwise inaccessible tiny beach and snorkeled a bit. It was exhausting and pretty exciting to kayak in some rather large swells. Clark is a fun informant about village life, because he's been in Charlotteville for about 2-1/2 years now.

 

Well I guess I have to start re-entry -- I'm going to look at the New York Times and see what's happening. The one Castara internet place is still not working, so I've been cut off. Today we are in Scarborough for some cash, so I found a connection here. The only newspapers we see are the Trinidad tabloids, and they just tell us that Janet Jackson bared her breast or breasts at the Super Bowl. And the Academy Awards results.

 

Hope to see many of you again soon -- I don't know if there will be another bulletin before we get home.

 

 

So deep into it now that I don't know the date any more. I think it's Thursday though, hich I think means that we're getting to the end. No internet in Castara, but we caught the bus to the end of the road, L'Anse Fourmi, which doesn't even have a restaurant. But it does have a nice artist, young man, who has internet in his bedroom, and rents time on it. Mike is out chatting with him. But not terribly patiently, we have to catch a bus back before too long.

 

It's a great place, Castara, and we've enjoyed our neighbors at the guest house as well. Darryl and Tom and Jean left yesterday. We hiked about 10 K to the top of a mountain a couple of days ago. Local ladies are baking bread in a big outdoor clay oven today -- it's excellent and I can't wait for today's batch.

 

I have to go, sadly -- I'll talk more later. Just wanted you to know we are alive
and though mosquito bitten we are still happy too.

 

Funny thing, as soon as I noticed we'd passed the halfway mark on the calendar (which I look at about once a week), I started thinking about home. Remembering that it's a vacation destination as well -- perhaps my whole life is a holiday! Even a little twinge of homesickness one day. We leave for Castara on Thursday, our next approximately two week stay. It's a smaller town, further down the Caribbean side of the island.

 

Well let me tell you about avocados. There is this tall tree outside our cottage,
and each morning we race the chickens and the chachalacas to get the avocados that have fallen to the ground. They are huge and buttery, and go great on thick slices of toast made from Jane's freshly baked whole wheat bread. Now there's a diet to slim you down, right? There was a big rainstorm last night and this morning, knocking down more than usual, so we are well ahead now and we will have to share with our slower neighbors. There is no way to go on a low carb diet on Tobago. Well, that's not true -- I get fish and salad instead of fish and chips most times, and sometimes I ask for more vegetables and no rice on the plate dinners. But I'm not going to reject breadfruit casserole and fried plantains or the slices of "ground provisions"
(various tubers) when they show up. Nor the occasional beer or rum punch. I don't think we've bulked up much. But the walking hasn't been as strenuous as usual because first I slid on a muddy step and banged up my knee a bit -- just a bruise. And then I got a little infection on my foot that took a day or so to clear up. All better now. Bring antifungal cream and antibiotic cream when you come -- I wasn't sure which I was dealing with at first.

 

We did take the hike up to the Flagstaff Lookout Point with Horace -- a big handsome guy, brandishing a cutlass (machete) to hack through the bush. Of course we were on a (steep) road most of the way, and then an established trail that went straight up through the mud for awhile, and he sort of chopped at a few trailing vines to justify bringing the cutlass, I guess. Lots of the men carry them, usually the blade wrapped in newspaper when they are walking around. It gives you sort of a start, the first time or two, to come around a bend and encounter tall muscular bearded Rasta with his dreadlocks tied up in a bandana, no shirt, and a big knife. It's an all purpose tool -- cut a fencepost, clean your nails, whatever. Did I already write this?
 
Anyway, the climb is probably about a 1100 foot gain, and the view is definitely worth it. Our guide Horace is not particularly knowledgeable -- there are registered guides, of course and they know of what they speak. He does know the way, however, and that's worth something. He is eager to build a side business. All the way up the trail he told us how much the previous people enjoyed the hike, and all the way down he prompted us repeatedly to be sure to tell all our friends here and at home about how enjoyable the hike is, and to get in touch with him. Since then he comes by the house to see if we told anyone yet.

 

Speaking of the previous people who hiked with him, and who connected him to us -- would you believe we met a couple from Big Lake, with a Mount Vernon address -- that's what, 30 miles from us in Bellingham? They were finishing up a week trip.

Very few west coast people come here -- and lots more Germans and English than Americans. Now we have met some new people from Michigan who are serious birders, and have spent lots of time in the NW and the San Juans. They may check in with us the next time they come. They are currently looking to see the Blue-Black Mannikin, found only on Tobago.

 

Well the internet has started working again, so I'd best get this off to y'all.
Today is a series of rainstorms so I need to duck home in between them. Mostly we've had plenty of sunshine. And that's the way it go in Tobago!

Hey there!

 

We are settling into our days now with a certain amount of regularity to them. A walk up and down ridiculously steep roads for a half hour to an hour, though today it rained all morning and we haven't gone yet. Usually a couple of walks into town (about 3 blocks distance) to pick up things from a store or maybe have a Shandy (ginger beer) on a bench near the beach, go to the library to turn in one book and check out another (visitor membership), sit on our porch catching a bit of sun between the branches of our big shady trees, taking a swim in the sea just outside our gate. Sometimes we cook, sometimes we eat out, often we go for a rum punch at sunset at the Banana Boat, which has the best. We read, Mike is working on sketches and studies that will eventually develop into some paintings and I'm plugging away at a short story for the class I'm taking, and journaling as well. I do most of the cooking, Mike does most of the cleaning up. I keep track of the money, Mike carries it. We both battle the mosquitos, of which there are not a lot, but it's amazing what one industrious mosquito can accomplish if you're not attentive. It always surprises me that, except for the mosquitos, there are hardly any bugs in sight. You'd think being in the tropics you'd be encountering all sorts of ugly cockroachy things, but you don't. A few ants in the kitchen if you're not remembering to wipe the counter daily -- that's about it. 

 

Saturday morning we're scheduled to go for a hike up to the top of the ridge, to an overlook of the Atlantic and some offshore islands, with a guy named Horace who is also a farmer -- we'll go by his hillside farm and get a tour on the way. If we survive that (and I'm not entirely sure I will -- I predict slippery muddy trails) then next week sometime we'll go on a half day sea kayak trip, with some snorkling and snacks, with a young American named Clark who has a little tour service and shop here in Charlotteville. How did he get so smart so young? We have two more weeks here in Charlotteville, and then we go to Castara for two more, and there we will probably do a rainforest birdwatching trip with a guide.

 

Last Saturday night we went to a Kaiso (Calypso) competition, which was held on the fenced in basketball courts in town. Preparatory to Carnival there are lots of music events and competitions. It's more extensive in Trinidad, where the really big Carnival is -- Lordy, you'll never catch me there! We saw it on TV about 5 years ago when we were here, and it's way too much people at one time for me! We heard about 10 singers -- it was really enjoyable and interesting. Not a huge crowd -- more people were going to the Soca band and dance next door in the community center. Calypso usually has very heartfelt and impassioned songs with a social message (as opposed to Soca tunes like "Don't Go So Fast -- I Want It [to] Last!"). I'm guessing the homegrown Tobago songs are less sophisticated and satirical than in Trinidad, and definitely less sexually explicit, because this is a more rural and conservative island, with strong religious traditions. On Valentine's Day there is supposed to be a big street party down by the jetty, with steel bands and all. And Carnival will be held in Scarborough on the 24th & 25th. So, it's getting to be party time around here.

 

Our only big outing so far was to catch the bus to the capital, Scarborough (maybe 25 miles and 1-1/2 hours of winding road) to get some more cash. No cash machine in Charlotteville -- but aren't they amazing things when you can find them? It spits out T&T dollars, about $6.15, which almost feels like play money. At first you gulp when presented with a bill for $75 for your lunch and the 2 beers you each guzzled, and then the first sticker shock resolves into the translated less than $6.50 US per per person surprise.

 

I bought kingfish steaks myself the other night -- you have to get lucky for that because the fishermen prefer to sell them whole. We've also had a half of a little tuna that neighbor Phil split with us -- I hacked out the filets and then sliced them crosswise and floured and fried them quickly -- totally yummy. Phil promised to share grouper, snapper and/or dorado when he finds them available -- a few men fish for these with hand lines. I'm a bit shy about trying to buy the fish directly, because you need to be aggressive about what you want, and even then you might be totally ignored in favor of the fisherman's neighbor ladies and aunts -- understandably.

 

And if you are ignored here, you are really ignored. Sometimes the best you can get is a blank stare, or a shake of the head in response to your questions. Does that mean no? Or I don't want to talk to you? Other times you will find yourself in a lively friendly conversation that you can't follow because of the accent and the vernacular, and you are getting way too much information at once -- and you're NOT getting it. I'm becoming more familiar with the cadences of speech, which helps, and better at asking people to repeat themselves without feeling like a dope.

 

W notice that people are really friendly, actually -- the only grumps are bored shopkeepers, I think. When walking, people greet or acknowledge each other (and us) almost always, with a nod, a raised hand, an "OK" or "All right," or good morning or goodnight, and sometimes "You doing OK?" or some other comment. The men are more outgoing with visitors than the women, although the young women at the vegetable stands or who are waitresses are quite friendly once you come back a second time. I've been asked by three people now if I know Flo -- if she's my sister maybe, because "You resemble she." Jane, the owner and cook at the little beachside place where we get a roti for lunch sometimes says the only difference is the way we walk (demonstrating a side to side jounce that I hope illustrated Flo's hearty stride and not mine) and that Flo is a fish -- she swims and snorkels all the time. I hope she arrives before we leave so I can see this paragon of beauty -- apparently she comes here annually. (No, I'm actually afraid to see this cheerful old bag.)

 

I still haven't told you about the birds, but there is a good web site, http://www.tobago.hm/brent-gallery, that has pictures of many we've seen: Blue crowned motmot, smooth billed ani, tropical hummingbird, crested oropendala, bananaquits, great frigatebirds, lots of hummingbirds, tropical kingbird, yellow bellied elaenia, blue gray tanager, bare eyed thrush, and more. Oh, and some of the parrots, both caged and in the wild. We have little lizards too, I think they are geckos.

 

Well, time to go jump in the Caribbean for a bit. Another day in paradise -- do wish you were all here!

Hello from the Crowleys in the land of dull knives and bumpy bottom pans!

 

I suggested to my neighbor here at Man O'War Bay Cottages in Charlotteville, Tobago, that these cabins seem like the ones I've heard of as "the place at the lake" and she, from Michigan where they have places at the lake, said "Exactly!" It's great -- rustic, furnished with mismatched stuff and aforementioned impossible kitchen utensils, and the double bed is built into a corner so I (having picked the short straw) sleep crammed up against the wall, but it's still paradise. It has rained and rained and rained during the week we've been here, especially pouring down at night, and once in awhile catching us out in the open like this morning. It's sunny this afternoon, and I'm looking out the door of the little internet place and can see the immortelle trees blazing with fiery orange blossoms on the hillside. The cab driver who brought us here said they start blooming and you know the rainy season is over. The trees lie. (The rainy season typically ends with December. It's just dragging on a bit this year.)

 

Our one bedroom cottage has a deck with plastic chairs, and a dinky kitchen, and a couple of tables and chairs in the living room, and the windows are covered with screens and then shutters -- no glass at all. We have a fan which keeps us comfortable when it gets hot, but we are under a canopy of huge trees and surrounded by lots of big (many of them flowering) bushes, and so it doesn't get uncomfortably hot. Humid, yes, especially with all this rain. You can get an idea of the grounds on the web site for Man O'War Bay Cottages, but it doesn't do them justice. Our cabin is the Sugar Shack, if you want to check it out. (Link on second page of the web site.)

 

Mike is probably asleep with a book on his face right now (I think he's reading Naipul), and soon I will go wake him up for a swim. The sea is about 50 steps from our door, just the other side of a little picket gate. "Downtown" Charlotteville is a couple of blocks away (or a stroll down the beach). There are about 30 yachts in anchored in the bay, and I haven't gotten around to counting the fishing boats out there, but that is the major industry of this town, along with increasing tourism. The boats are set up with a couple of trolling poles, and are individually owned by local guys who swim or catch a ride out to them in the morning and come back in midday, loaded with kingfish. Last night (and for lunch today) we had some, which you buy directly from the fishermen -- it's king mackerel, I believe, but nothing like those oily Pacific mackerels. Wonderful firm white fish. Actually our neighbor bought the fish for us yesterday -- four thick steaks -- because you sort of have to know the ropes to get something smaller than a 7-10 pound fish. Our refrigerator isn't big enough.

 

We cook some, and we go out some. There are about five "major" restaurants -- ie., you can usually find them open -- all al fresco. Gail's, which we remember most from our last visit, is the romantic one with candlelight. You can google her web site by using Gail's, Tobago, & Charlotteville, I think. G's Tasty Delight Kitchen has great down to earth local food, and has a little covered pergola on the beach where you can eat. Jane's is also on the beach, more of a wooden shack with picnic tables under cover -- also delicious and cheap, and she also bakes fresh bread and cakes every day. The Phoenix (Sharon & Pheb's) is rebuilt from a fire in 2000 -- it wasn't here when we were here last, but we had a great buffet on Saturday night that featured all the best local dishes. $40TT each, which means a bit under $7 US. They serve on a balcony that overlooks the waterfront. And the Banana Boat Beach Bar and Bed & Breakfast is at the far end of the beach from town, and they have great rum punches. Carib beers are $7 TT (abt $1.15) most places.

 

And we haven't been losing weight. I have discovered peanutbutter and bananas -- oh my gosh, it's like candy. And now that we've found Jane's little bakery, I don't know what's going to happen. We walk though. There's a steep steep hill (picture on the second page of the website is the view from there -- although it might not be working right now) that we truck up most mornings, and we actually made it without stopping day before yesterday. This morning we stopped for breath. You would never set a treadmill for this grade. We've been extending the trip bacl through town so that we walked an hour today. So maybe we won't come back fat -- maybe we'll just even things out.

 

There's a library in town, so we won't run out of things to read. A soccer field that gets lots of use where you can watch the kids, and sometimes the adults, especially in the late afternoons. There are a couple of markets, small of course, and also mini-mini marts which are wooden sheds with a smaller variety of things to sell, including soft drinks. About 5 vegetable stands are sprinkled through the approximately 6 block main street that runs along the water.

 

I've been on for an hour and half, what with reading my mail (don't stop!) and writing this, so I'll save the birds for later. The birds here are fantastic.

I really gotta go. Later! Oh, here's to an interesting outcome in New Hampshire today!

I am covered with mosquito bites on my arms and legs. They aren't giving me much grief, thank goodness -- only a couple of them have actually itched. But I'd sure like to know if there is something I can eat or drink to make me unpalatable. Mike is hardly bitten at all -- I tell him it's because he tastes nasty, while I am sweet and succulent. This is balanced by his sweet personality though -- a good travel mate to have along.

 

We've been enjoying our stay at Mike's Holiday Apartments, just one block from the small airport here on Tobago. This is the end of the island with the majority of tourist development, and there are plenty of low-cost places to stay. Mike's is $35 a night, for a roomy one bedroom with kitchen and dining/living area combined, and a front porch that looks to the west, meaning we see the planes coming in. Surprisingly it's not noisy. It's another block or three to the beach, and there are little wooden shops and restaurants all around, but also big fields with tethered cows and wandering goats and chickens. There are also some more sophisticated restaurants and more resort-like accomodations, but the prices go up. The tastiness of the food couldn't be improved though -- our $6 apiece dinner was every bit as good as the $13 one. They give you vegetables and salad on the side here too. Mike's Apartments also has a little minimart so we can drop by to pick up a Diet Pepsi or some dish soap or a can of beans. The prevailing breeze seems to be from the east, so when the sun gets up high enough we can open up the east-side bedroom windows and get a wonderful cross breeze. Nothing moved last night though -- we had to resort to the air conditioner for a while. And the Saturday night music from down the road pounded way late. We have a little TV but don't watch much -- there will be no TV in Charlotteville, which is where we head tomorrow.

 

It's a relief to be here -- Barbados began to wear on us, at least the area where we were staying. If I were a beach lounger, or a bar habitue, or if our porch had a view of something besides the laundry area in the space behind the two story building in front of us, it would have been more relaxing. We have a place (about $20 more a night) overlooking the water in a more rural area for our brief stay on the way home.

 

Taking the buses was fun though -- it always is in the Caribbean. One thing I especially enjoyed was the way the wild and crazy drivers slowed everything down when there was a little old lady to pick up. Caribbean old ladies have a special style. They are often skinny, though some are large-bosomed, some a bit toothless, usually bespectacled, and they are dressed to the nines and wear little straw boaters or other jaunty hats, and always carry umbrellas, ready for sun or rain. When the young and not-so-young like us board the bus, you barely get packed into your seat (and I mean packed) when the driver barrels back into the traffic. But for these women they wait patiently for them to be situated, with their large purses on their laps.

 

But the best bus experience was the trip to (we planned) Speightstown, more north on the Caribbean side. (We stayed in the parish of Christchurch, which is on the southern end.) It was also on the Big bus, about a 43 passenger city bus type. Couldn't believe the way it careened through villages and along the narrow winding roads! Somehow we missed our stop, and so we ended up winding around through all the little villages in the hills at the north end of the island. The driver pointed out that we'd come to the end of the line, so we paid an extra fare to get back to Bridgetown, and he asked us to sit in the front because he was picking up "some" school kids. There is no school bus sytem, and the public buses pick them up. Well, "some" school kids meant 82-83 (I asked the driver) kids from St. Lucy Secondary School. They looked like our middleschool age. And after I was sure the bus was absolutely entirely full, aisle packed from front to back with kids standing and hanging onto the seats and poles, there was still a long line that kept piling in. It was like the clowns in the VW, or the college students in the phone booth. You notice I said it was a 43 passenger bus? And most of them stayed on until Bridgetown, which was a half hour or so. Talk about noise! But no fights -- imagine this at home! When the mass of them got off on the outskirts of Bridgetown, and I could see the driver again (he'd been blocked by blue uniformed girls who leaned into us in our aisle facing seats around the bends in the road) he gave me the biggest grin, like he had been delighted to share this experience with novices. It really was a kick, but Mike had a stiff neck from twisting forward so he wouldn't be staring into a 13 year old chest.

 

The difference in cost in Barbados and Tobago is big. Example. Breakfast in a Barbados cafe, with eggs, hashbrowns (MacDonald's style), bagel, baked beans and coffee was about $23 for the two of us. Our breakfast here at a nice restaurant attached to a lovely little hotel was eggs, beans, bacon, sausage, toast, fruit plate (bananas and melon and pineapple and papaya), juice, and coffee was $13. That about tells the story.

 

I'd best get off and get on with my busy day of sitting on the porch watching the people and planes go by, and reading. I don't know if there will be internet in Charlotteville, but I'll probably be able to get on-line at least once from somewhere there. It will be shadier there -- our cottage is under the trees and it's more rain-foresty, where here it's flat and not many trees along the roads. So we plan more walking too.

 

Time for lunch! I'm sure I'll have more to say about food later!

[This was actually written on Jan. 11, but not posted here until today. I only have a few more minutes on my internet account here in Barbados, and we fly to Tobago later today, so I will send more from there. We haven't lost any weight yet!]

 

Greetings to all in the higher lattitudes. You know what? I love sweat! We acclimated immediately, and also immediately started thinking this part of the world might be where we actually belong. The news at home as we were leaving was "The biggest snowstorm in years blasting in tonight!" How did that come out? We had some de-icing in Seattle, but not that much snow on the ground yet.

The trip was really smooth, except for the lost bag -- but it was delivered to us by 9:00 p.m., and we had the essentials in the carry-ons. We stayed over in Miami and flew from there early on Wednesday. The long check-in line for the plane to  Puerto Rico went fast, the baggage screening faster, and we had time for a leisurely breakfast croissant and coffee near our gate before boarding. I recommend the Miami airport for meals -- for some reason they don't feel the need to gouge a captive clientele. What is that about? The connection in San Juan was perfectly timed.

I'm in an internet cafe just in front of our efficiency apartment, at the Bonanza Apartments in Dover, Barbados -- if efficient is the word. We are really enjoying being here, and the people are really helpful. I think they sometimes have people here just overnight, and so they don't worry too much about how they have furnished the rooms until asked. They did bring the pots and pans we asked for (there was only one pan) and some knives that actually cut, and eventually a plug for the kitchen sink, and a brand new bedside lamp so we can read in bed. And Mike tacked down the window screen (though the mosquitos still found me) and tightened the hooks on the back of the bathroom door and plunged the shower drain (there was a plunger on hand). The stove has two out of four knobs, there is no roll holder on the TP holder -- just the wire pieces it should go on. But there is toilet paper! These comments are not complaints, but rather descriptions. Barbados is expensive, and this is a Lonely Planet type of accomodation, but still $65 a night. We are entirely contented however. The beaches go on and on, and all are gorgeous, just like Caribbean beaches look in those travel brochures. We're a block away from the water, and we walk the wet sand and take a dip each day. All beaches are public, even though they are lined with lovely hotels in this neck of the woods. Dover is next door to St. Lawrence Gap, which is where the nightlife abounds, and from where I can still hear the music (the bass anyway) from my bed at 3:30 a.m. The fellow upstairs (unseen so far) seems to be moving furniture and playing marbles (or a small bowling game) in the night -- don't ask me. We were a little worried this morning -- an intense Rasta fellow was looking for that apartment, and since our kitchen window was open Mike heard him say "Why you do my woman?" when the guy opened the door. But nothing untowards happened.

The local beer (Banks) is good, and we've sampled a couple of rum punches that were also good. Most of the restaurants cater to the hotel guests, and are pricier than home by about 10 percent or so. We have found a few places to buy local food, the best being a cafeteria upstairs in the big department store downtown. We had huge plates (bbq chicken for me, lamb for Mike, with vegetables, macaroni pie and salad) for about $5 US each. We have had roti, and flying fish, and a bit of plantains, but we'll have to wait for Tobago for serious vegetables. Bajan food (I found out it rhymes with Cajun) is not as inspired as some West Indian food, but still tasty.

Yesterday we took the bus up to the Atlantic coast to Bathsheba, which is the surfing beach. I was surprised how quiet it was, since this is the high season -- it is gorgeous. Mike took some pictures but I doubt if I will be able to upload on a rented computer. It was nice to also see the countryside and less inhabited places, because it's pretty much city/suburbs where we are. Tomorrow we'll head north on the Caribbean side, another bus trip. It's only $1.50 BD (75 cents U.S.) for any bus ride, and you have your choice of little route taxi vans, a middle sized bus and a big city-bus size one. For the longer routes we catch a little bus to Bridgetown and then a big bus from the terminal.

Thinking of all of you, and greatly enjoying the replies we have received! It's nice to be in touch on the road.

 

The one taxi company in Bellingham is terrifically overloaded because of the solid ice roads, with more snow forecast for tonight. They sound absolutely panicked on the telephone. So we're going to an airport area motel tonight when a taxi gets here, and the motel shuttle to the airport in the wee hours. Big start to the vacation -- a motel room in Bellingham! Hey, I'm not really complaining.

Here in Bellingham, even near the water, we have about 5 inches of snow! A cold wind is blowing, and the temperature is in the low 20s. Today I'm buying my sandals -- I don't think I'll wear them home.