Hilton Head Day Four

Wednesday ended up being another quite day. I caught up on my writing, and Brenda worked on her jewelry. The radio announced that Wednesday was “Root Canal Appreciation Day” No one was too excited about that. Jerry and Vickie took turns napping in the morning. I did some prep work in the kitchen, planning sliders for lunch and steak for dinner. Once again we had intentions of going to the beach, but just about the time of day when it got warm enough for the beach, the afternoon rains came. So Vickie and I took off for the store to pick up a few things, and books and resting were the pastime of choice at the condo. Once again it poured rain for at least an hour. It was a little dry when we got here, but not now.

While we were sitting on the back deck, we saw a Red Tailed Hawk fly in and land in one of the trees close to the condo. Vickie went out and was able to get numerous pictures of the bird as it posed for her. Then while we were sitting there watching the one bird, its mate flew past with one of our local squirrels in its clutches. I’ll never forget the look on the squirrels face as he flew past dangling from the hawk talons. Sort of like---oh krap, guess I’m going to be on the lunch menu today for the hawk chicks.

One day this week the girls had a girley kind of day and put on long artificial nails and fixed their hair. Now all week Vickie is learning how to do stuff with long nails again. Another cool thing, we discovered an interesting new snack food at the Fresh Market. It is okra that has been deep fried quickly with no batter (like potato chips) in canola oil and then dusted with sea salt. It makes you think it is good for you because it is bright green. Somehow even though it’s fried because the color is green it seems healthy.

Later we decided to avail ourselves of the Club House activity opportunities, however when we got there we found the normally deserted building had been occupied by two other residents and the pool table was taken. The ping-pong table was available but there were only 2 paddles, and the only ball had a dent in it making it flat on one side. Jerry and Brenda tried ping-pong, but the square ball made for some rather strange bounces. Vickie and I attempted to play a game of plain old-fashioned checkers. So once again we headed back to the condo, but now since it was late and the rain had given up, we took Jerry’s Bocce Ball set out onto the 4th fairway, and had several spirited games of Bocce.

As it started to get late, we headed in and started dinner. Jerry and I walked over to the provided outdoor gas grills. These grills just happen to be on the shore of the Turtle/Alligator pond. What could possibly go wrong with the combination of impending darkness, alcohol, raw meat, and alligators. Well we survived and it was interesting watching the critters watch us cook. One particularly aggressive turtle chased me around I guess thinking I was going to feed him. We assumed that quite often these denizens get the odd piece of meat from the grillers. Even though the sign warns it is a $1000 fine to feed or molest the alligators, turtles are not specifically mentioned. At one point I counted 14 turtles and an alligator watching us cook.

We had a lovely meal of rib eye steak fixed to our special traveling recipe. When we travel I always carry my Rachel Wray Santoku knife and Lawry’s Garlic Salt Coarse Ground With Parsley. We buy a small bottle of olive oil, and Jerry usually brings gallon storage bags. We rub the steaks well with the oil, some pepper, and Lawry’s. Then put them in the refrigerator for at least a day, sometimes two or three. (we have used this recipe in numerous countries and states) We paired the steak up with some great corn nuked in the husk (Vickie’s special recipe) salad, and some very nice Shiraz Jerry scored at the Piggy Wiggly. For desert we had a great meringue topped key lime pie from the Fresh Market. Would have been a $150 dinner for four here in Hilton Head, but we eliminated the middleman and did it for about $40.

Once again we had a great evening playing many spirited games of dominoes until it was time for bed. Another very relaxing great day was in the books.
More later,
Wes

Hilton Head Day Three The Bike Wreck

Hello, more musings about nothing particular and everything in general.

Tuesday morning we all lazed about getting our individual breakfast choices, checking Email, perusing through the news on line, showering, watching bad golfers, and in general just living a relaxed resort kind of life. Brenda had started working on a bazillion piece jigsaw puzzle. Jerry and Vickie were helping and or kibitzing. Got me wondering who actually started calling them jigsaw puzzles? Did some guy paste a picture on a board and then cut it up with a jigsaw in little pieces for his kids to put together one rainy day? Sometimes you just have to think about these kinds of things. It is very nice to travel with our long term traveling companions. Over time we have learned to accommodate each other’s idiosyncrasies, and we can relax together with minimal stress.

Later as we all finished preparation, we loaded in Jerry’s Explorer and set out to explore (pardon the pun) the island. Jerry and Brenda have started a business distributing Kazuri Beads. While on their safari to Kenya they visited the Kazuri bead factory in Nairobi. Here they saw the process where Kazuri beads are hand made by the local residents. When they returned they decided to get involved in distributing the rare and unusual beads in the U.S.A year or so later they have a web site www.kakarjewelry.com and are attending bead shows regularly. That is actually how we came to be at Hilton Head this week. They had a local bead shop to visit along with a bead show this coming weekend in Charleston. I had to chuckle at the name of the bead shop, “Hemp Seed and High Tide Beads”. Even more entertainment was had as we actually visited the shop. Jerry and Brenda went into the shop to conduct their business, while Vickie and I wandered the little strip mall containing the shop. Jerry later reported the owners looked the part of creative artists.

First on the list of interesting stuff was a bunch of Yuppie women discussing their bead purchases on a bench outside the bead shop. Allow me to digress a minute about my use of the term Yuppie. Yuppie is not a derogatory term for me, but more a descriptive term. And to me the root term Yuppie has many sub types however most are unnamed. Let me say that I also consider myself the antithesis for some Yuppies. In my opinion they perceive my eccentricity as a threat to their very formal and organized rich peoples lives. I just find the whole mess entertaining and food for my ever-wondering mind. End of digression, oh and let me record it here: I just promised Vickie if she could get me a hotel room with a window overlooking a good view of Fremont Street, with my laptop, Internet connection, pocket tape recorder, and a good supply of liquor, I’d go with her back to Las Vegas. (I notoriously hate Las Vegas since among my many vices gambling IS NOT and the place bores me quickly)

Back to the strip mall: the ladies discussing their bead purchases gave the appearance of being rich and bored. In addition they looked suspiciously at me as I made notes on my pocket recorder and observed life. I moved on down the mall to “The Island Gold Works” looking in the windows at many beautiful items on display. I got to the door, and there was this sign with a new approach to business (for me). The sign said “Open, Please press buzzer and wait for assistance”. I didn’t figure they wanted to talk to me so I moved on down the mall. Soon I was standing in front of “The Encore Consignment Store”. I looked inside, and it was a Yuppie consignment store, which looked to me like a fancy women’s store. Vickie made a circuit through the store and reported it was stocked with all types of high end “stuff” there on consignment. From looking at some shoes displayed out front, according to Vickie, you could buy “used” $250 shoes for $45. Interesting concept, would be a shopping bonanza for folks who weren’t from here. Also in the strip mall was a cool looking bar---not open darn it. And on the end was a real tearoom with little old ladies drinking tea, reading books, and chatting quietly. Beside the tearoom was a Cat Clinic, and the “Dr. Is (was) In”. Everywhere at this mall Yuppiedom was in evidence especially in the parking lot. There was a preponderance of Mercedes, Exotic SUV’s and other high end transportation. While Jerry and Brenda finished their business, Vickie and I landed on a bench and perused the proffered free literature proclaiming the attractions of Hilton Head. Interesting reading. Vickie found a residence that was now down to $845,000 from it’s 2006 appraisal of $1.6 million. I read an interesting article by a guy who retired from “The War on Drugs” and was now a “Security Consultant” to a security company servicing the residents of Hilton Head. (think he was a high end security system salesman) I also read about this cool solar device that is supposed to be able to heat water even on cloudy days. Article says it is especially good for heating hot tubs and touted possible Federal Tax credits. I tore out the page and intend to investigate upon returning home.

We left the Yuppie strip mall and headed to Sea Pines Plantation. Sea Pines is the original development on Hilton Head Island. It was started and planned by Charles Fraser, who is buried under the Liberty Oak overlooking the harbor. His theory was build the attractions first I.E. the marinas, the golf courses, the swimming pools, and beach accesses, then plan the community around them gently preserving and working with the natural vegetation. The result is a beautiful blend of houses, condos, recreation, shopping, ponds, trees, alligators, birds, and bike trails. It was so successful Charles’s overarching plan of having restrictive development covenants attached to land became the standard of the resort industry. His tenants were used in the development of several other SC developments including Kiowa Island. He was a truly great man.

We had a great lunch at one of the restaurants overlooking the harbor at Harbor Village. The food was great, I had a cup of (very good) Crab Bisque, and a Cuban Sandwich, Brenda had a Chicken Panini, Jerry had a Blackened Tuna Wrap, and Vickie had a Pulled Pork Sandwich. All came with Sea Pines Chips, which were great kettle cooked potato chips. We also ordered the special drink of the day a Bahama Mama. We figured the special ought to be special. We weren’t disappointed---the drink was especially ordinary and the price was especially ridiculous. All in all lunch reminded us we were in Hilton Head by being ridiculously over priced.

After lunch I wanted to tour the harbor and look at the boats. I stopped, just out of curiosity, at the fuel dock. The fuel pump had the most recent sales still recorded on it. The first one was “Off Road Low Sulfur Non Highway Diesel” $2.369 per gallon, last sale 395 gallons for $937.24. On the gasoline side $3.119 per gallon last sale 40 gallons for $127.24. It’s obvious the gasoline still contains “Road Taxes” which is pretty ridiculous for a boat. In VA there is some mechanism for recovering the “Road Tax” paid on boat gas. We have not explored it yet, but with the new boat holding 51 gallons of gas, we probably will.

After visiting the fuel dock, Vickie and I continued our tour of the harbor. We saw some beautiful boats, and wondered what the dockage must be to stay in this particular (very special) harbor. I say very special because the 18th green just across the harbor is featured in the PGA Verizon Heritage at the Harbor Town Golf Links. The boats (yachts) did not disappoint either. I made myself a note to look up Lazzara Yachts because that was the name on a very beautiful yacht we saw moored there. (which I did, and they are incredible)

After viewing all the sights at Sea Pines, we returned home via the Fresh Market and Piggly Wiggly to obtain sustenance for the balance of the week. After we got back and unloaded all our stuff, everyone settled down to do whatever, and Miss Vickie took her bike back to the beach to look for shells. I took the opportunity to explore a little, and found the “Club House” that is associated with our group of units. It has a nice pool table, ping-pong table, beautiful work out room, and a shelf of books and games. Amongst the games I found a box of very nice 9 spot dominoes, and we have passed the last two evenings with spirited dominoes tournaments. (don’t want to jinx things, but yours truly has won the last two nights)

After exploring the clubhouse, I went and soaked my lower legs in the hot tub at the pool for about 20 minutes. While soaking I watched the turtles and alligators in the pond next to the pool. Then I headed back to the condo. I hadn’t been back too long when Miss Vickie came in quite distressed. Seems as though she had lost control of her bike on the bike path, and rode down an embankment wedging herself between two trees and under the bike. She had to be rescued by 2 ladies. Good news is she didn’t break anything, mostly cuts and bruises, and no alligators or snakes got to her. Bad part is the unmerciful abuse she has had to endure from all of us. We took good care of her, and got her soaking in a warm whirlpool bath, and gave her some Tylenol for her pain. Cut on her finger required bandaging, and she had to get some dirt and blood out of her swimsuit cover up. Jerry wanted her to go back, lie down in the weeds and recreate the wreck so we could take a picture for the blog. (Vickie didn’t think so) By Wednesday she was doing better, but has not been back on the bike again yet.
More later,
Wes

Hilton Head Day Two

Well we got here Sunday afternoon, and now it is Wednesday morning. We have not done a lot of structured things, but have enjoyed our time greatly. This will probably be a Sienfieldesque blog, a show about nothing.

Monday morning, no one got moving too early, and those who did, indulged in nothing more than a good book or relaxing breakfast watching the golfers tee off on #4. (which is quite the entertaining pastime) Vickie and I took the complimentary bicycles that came with the condo, and rode down to the beach. Actually twice cause the first time we couldn’t find it, and had to come back for directions. After directions, the second time we made it to the beach and to our surprise found very nice facilities and a pretty beach. They had chairs and umbrellas for rent ($30 for an umbrella and 2 chairs for 1st day and $18 a day after that, payable in advance). The water was cool but not frigid I thought even warmer than Outer Banks in June.

After scoping out the facilities Vickie and I headed back to the condo to report. We checked in with our friends, and after some research found we could hit the main pool bar for a hot dog for lunch. Vickie and I rode the bikes back, and Jerry and Brenda walked, opting for the exercise. We soon were parked at a pretty much deserted pool and pool bar. We ordered (from the very unpersonable bar lady) some of the proffered tropical specialties, to go with some dogs and burgers. In a little while our lackluster food arrived, essentially plain but with a basket containing little plastic packets of condiments. We built some quasi-palatable creations, and washed them down with reasonably good drinks. The whole thing introduced us to the Hilton Head motto: If it isn’t overpriced, then you’re not in Hilton Head. Apparently in this area of the country, the economic downturn is not being considered. (although the occupancy looks to be about 30% but that may be because it is still May)

After our mediocre but at least properly overpriced lunch, we retired to the condo intending to hit the pool. But Mother Nature had pretty much decided that was not to be. The skies began to blacken, while we watched and listened to a thunderstorm roll in. (like we hadn’t had enough rain last week in Martinsville) Checking the weather on the Internet, we found we were in the path of a severe thunderstorm warning. We opened the bar or should I say reopened the bar, and settled down to watch the fun.

Golfers are a curious breed; they just will not admit that it is really going to storm until it is raining so hard they can’t see the ball. And then what is this whole thing of holding a metal rod in your hand on a flat grass field while it is lightening? Seems like a death wish to me, but then this is Hilton Head, and I’m sure they don’t refund those overpriced greens/cart fees once you have paid them.

We watched the golfing ramp down as the rain ramped up. The rain continued to RAMP UP. Pretty soon it was raining literally in sheets. We could look out across the golf course and see sheets of rain moving down the fairway. Then the golf course began to look like a pond, and after a while the whole fairway was under water. I reminded my compatriots that this was a swamp until they decided to fill it in and build stuff on it. We had a couple funny events happen during the storm. It was raining so hard Jerry and I could not resist standing out on the front porch and watching. The lightening/thunder was loud, but by time differential not all that close. All of a sudden the lightening struck something close by and issued forth one of those giant SNAP sounds that scare the poop out of you. Everyone in the condo screamed, and Jerry and I bumped into each other getting in the front door. We had a good laugh about it. It was even raining so hard at one point; I put on my new prescription snorkeling mask just to try it out. After we were back inside from the lightening scare, we were watching the waterfall coming off our upper roof, when we noticed a drink cup Brenda had left out on the patio table. She had had water in it on the way back from lunch, and had left it empty on the table. Well now the cup was full to within 1 inch of the top with rainwater, all in about 30-40 minutes. After the storm abated, Vickie took her bike back down to the beach since it was low tide to look for shells. When she returned we decided to go with a rerun of last nights dinner and polished off the second half of Jerry’s lasagna from the previous night.

Our condo comes equipped with many games, puzzles, and movies. One very cool entertainment feature of the condo is the step on the stairs to the second floor that at the quietest unexpected times sounds amazingly like flatulence when trend upon. This has been the source of untold verbal sparring and laughter. Of course this is from the same crew (missing Jimmy and Judy) that almost laughed themselves silly in a cabin at the North Rim of The Grand Canyon on the last night of the season when Miss Brenda produced a secretly packed whoopee cushion. This same Miss Brenda conned us into a game of Trivial Pursuit for the evening. Only problem was this particular Trivial Pursuit box contained a game based solely on the 80’s. Due to some marital discord and/or relationship issues (for most of us) the 80’s were better forgotten, and that is about what we all did. Therefore trivial questions based solely on events from the 80’s were daunting for us, to say the least. Trivial Pursuit turned into Trivial Pursuit of a Coma. Finally we all conceded and allowed Brenda to win (since she was whipping our butts anyhow). As we carried over our Trivial comas everyone drifted off to the beds with the lure of another relaxing nights sleep.
More later,
Wes

Hilton Head Day One

Well hello again from the road. After what seems like a forever hiatus, for my knee surgery, we are traveling again. My total right knee replacement was a tough and painful procedure. The therapy following surgery gave me new definitions of the word pain. I now have more respect for folks (and there are many) who share with me that they too have had knee replacements. Mine happened on March 3rd and I am just now feeling like tackling the world (albeit in smaller pieces). But one thing is for sure, my leg certainly works better than it did pre-surgery, and I can’t say enough good about the medical team that made it happen for me. Thanks to Dr. David Martin and Crew at Wake Forest Baptist Hospital.

Today finds us at Hilton Head SC ensconced in a lovely 3-bedroom condo on the 4th tee of one of the many golf courses here. Previous to this we had only ever spent 1 night on Hilton Head Island, and really didn’t understand too much about it. We are guests of our frequent traveling partners, Brenda and Jerry Williams. You may recall from past musings, Jerry and Brenda are Miller (nowadays MillerCoors) retirees like Vickie and myself. We all worked at the same plant for almost 30 years, so have much in common. In addition, Jerry and I are both ex-Yankees, while Vickie and Brenda both grew up in Danville VA. The condo is one of the bazillions on Hilton Head nestled in amongst the pine trees, creeks, golf courses, swimming pools, alligators, and private homes. We were talking yesterday; this development really is a mature endeavor. Jerry remembers coming here on a sales pitch tour, over 30 years ago and some of the earliest development started in the early 50’s. Thanks to wise and carefully planned development, however, the island recognizes over 35,000 permanent residents, and has become a year round resort destination for millions.

We drove down from Martinsville on Sunday via Charlotte NC and Columbia SC. Jerry and Brenda stuck to the Interstates and Vickie and I drove the Vette via Rt. 321 through the SC back country. It was a beautiful day and we all arrived safely. Vickie and I had an interesting trip, especially south of Columbia SC on Rt. 321. Rt. 321 must have been a main route prior to the Interstates. It reminded us often of the little town “Radiator Springs” in the movie “Cars”. There were old strip motels, old Stuckies buildings, and old gas stations most of which were abandoned or closed. We left Columbia around 11:30 am. Vickie suggested we might want to get something to eat, as there might not be anything soon along the way. I thought it was a little early for lunch so pressed on. Turns out she was very right. We ended up not finding anything to eat till 12 miles from Hilton Head on the route we took.

Along the way on our trip (about 380 miles) from Ridgeway to Hilton Head, we had a few interesting moments. First happened on I-85 near Charlotte: out of nowhere a tractor-trailer tried to pass me in the right lane whilst both of us were doing about 73-75 mph. In front of him was a white van that was going about 65. He was determined to pass me, and had I not slackened speed, I guess he would have run me off the road or rammed the white van. It was a scary moment. He then proceeded on to tailgate one of his brother truckers at about 80 mph. The next came as we used the Interstate System to by-pass Columbia SC. We came in on Rt. 321, and had to head west on I-20 (briefly) then cut south on I-26 (briefly) then turn off again on Rt. 321. This particular grouping of roads makes for some harrowing lane changes and abrupt off ramps. Oftimes stellar braking or light speed acceleration was required to accomplish the desired trajectories. Further down Rt. 321 we were riding along, heading south and approached the town of North. Off in the distance we could see what appeared to be a huge airliner, but it was way too low and was banked at a very great angle. I commented to Vickie that it looked like the plane was going to crash. We lost sight of the plane, but as we passed through North (South Carolina) we once again caught sight of the plane, and there appeared to be not one but 2 planes. This time I recognized that they weren’t airliners, but very large military transports. It appeared as if they were on some type of maneuvers, but were flying awfully low. Vickie studied the map to see if a military base was near, but the closest was the Department of Energy installation at Savanna River. A little while later when we were crossing the Edisto River south of North, all of a sudden this giant plane crossed over the road directly above us nearly at tree top height. It was very loud and exciting. A few more interesting items of the day were as we left Neeses, the road sign read Norway 5 miles Denmark 15 miles so on we went. Later in Fairfax SC we found out we had missed “The Cooter Fest” by just one day. Wonder if Ben Jones (the original Cooter from the Dukes of Hazard) was there? Google tells me he even has a book out.

We arrived in the vicinity of Hilton Head and made contact with Jerry and Brenda on the cell. Turns out they were about 45 minutes behind us so we looked for something to eat. Ended up at O’Rileys Irish Pub, where they were advertising Mother’s Day specials on Mimosas and Bloody Marys. I had a nice 3 salad plate with chicken, tuna, and egg salads on a bed of lettuce, and Vickie had some potatoe skin appetizers that were loaded with cheese and fresh bacon. The food and drink was great, and the very nice owner, (a yankee according to Vickie) spent a considerable amount of time locating the whereabouts of our destination. Hilton Head is a veritable rabbit warren of lanes, culs de sac, and dead end resort only roads. Mapquest and his brothers know little about exact locations on the island. With directions in hand, we reunited with our companions at the check in office. After check in, several wrong turns and dead ends later, we arrived at 335 Carolina Club. The place is beautiful, and we are glad to be here. The heated outdoor pool is just 400 yards away, and the beach is a 5-minute bike ride. Brenda and Vickie took the Vette (top down) to the fresh market, and picked up a few necessities. Jerry brought lasagna he had previously made and frozen for our dinner, the bar is open, and we are camped for the night.
More later,
Wes

Our Last Nights in St. Kitts and Heading Home

My struggles with the Internet service here have continued. For the last two days every time I tried to get on my Comcast Email, I was somehow redirected to the hotel wireless log in page. Finally yesterday afternoon, laptop in hand, I camped in the business center and wouldn’t leave until they admitted it was not my problem but theirs. After I spent an hour convincing them, they agreed to work on the issue. At that point, I took my laptop, and told them to call me when they got it fixed. I headed down to the pool with a large rum drink to get out of my mad. It worked. (Oh and the Email access was fixed when I got back)

Earlier in the day we drove to the very remote end of the island for lunch. It is indescribably beautiful, and there are wild goats and monkeys everywhere. We ended up (literally) at the Reggae Beach Bar and Grill which was at the end of the end of the road. You could see the island of Nevis very close by. The Reggae was an open-air board floored sand everywhere kind of place. There was smoke billowing from the grill in the back and the blender was buzzing away on the bar. All complete with the customary Reggae music background. The menu was interesting, and we made our choices. Vickie got a barbequed chicken salad, Brenda got a hamburger, Jerry got a Mahi Mahi plate, and I got (finally) my Conch chowder, and Conch fritters. The food came and it was wonderful. The plates all had a salad that had pasta, little black beans, lettuce, cucumber, peas, and some type of fried orange root vegetable that was delicious. My Conch chowder was perfect, with just enough sand in it so you knew it was real, also plenty of conch meat slightly chewy. The Conch fritters were made from conch meat and the orange root vegetable used on the other plates, crisply fried and delicious. Jerry commented the fish was perfect, and Vickie raved about her chicken.

Also today was our shopping day. We usually take one day and let the girls take us shopping in the little booths and stalls of where ever we might be. Today there was supposed to be no cruise ship in port in Basseterre so we thought that would be a good time. Unfortunately the woman who though she knew the cruise boat schedule didn’t and we pushed and shoved with all the cruise boat folks to do our shopping. We did find some cool shirts and stuff for the girls, and sent some postcards home.

On today’s docket is some possible snorkeling; it has been so rough that we have not been able to get in the ocean here. Today seems a little calmer.

Well I wrote the above earlier, and did get a chance to do some snorkeling. It was rough, but once you got away from the shore it was tolerable. They have a breakwater off shore from the Marriott beach, and all along the breakwater were numerous kinds of fish. I spent about an hour cruising around, and ended up with a lot of salt water in my sinuses from the wave action.

After snorkeling I retired to the veranda for some refreshing rum drinks and also laid by the pool for a while. We decided to go to the famous Mr. X’s Shiggity Shack for dinner. We drove over and got a great table right on the beach. I really wanted a Caribbean lobster, and they had that on the menu grilled. Jerry and I both ordered that, Brenda ordered Mahi Mahi grilled and Vickie ordered Spear Ribs, which was their take on spare ribs. We had the specialty fruity rum drinks of the day, and awaited our food. When the food came, I got a disappointment. Jerry got the last lobster, and they brought me Mahi Mahi without even asking. Since I love grilled fish, I went along, but I had expected more from a place that had been so highly rated in Trip Advisor. Guess I’ll just have to come back for my Caribbean lobster. They had a band at The Shiggity Shack, but their first few numbers left us cold, so we headed back to the Marriott. Turns out the Marriott had a great Reggae band playing in the lobby, and Vickie and I danced, drank and sang the night away. It didn’t hurt that I had on my Bob Marley shirt, and knew a lot of the words to the music they did. We were the sparkplugs of the gathering, and made a lot of new friends that night. I don’t really remember how many rum thingies got consumed, but when the band took it’s last break, Vickie hauled me off to the bed. (I think she just wanted to go to the casino)

Saturday was a pretty laid back day for me. After I recovered from all the snorkeling, swimming, partying, eating, drinking, dancing, partying, dancing, drinking, well you get the picture. Guess I sort of felt my age a little on Saturday (To put it politely).

Saturday night, we had a wonderful dinner of all the leftovers, sandwich stuff and snacks from the week, and packed our bags. Later we all indulged in rum-raisin ice cream from the Pizza Shack at the Marriott. Sunday morning it was up at 07:00 and off to the St. Kitts Airport. Now we’re on a 5-hour layover in St. Maarten, waiting for our flight to Atlanta. Tonight we stay in Atlanta, and then back to GSO Monday morning. We’ll have the first cell service in almost 2 weeks tonight so hopefully we can contact some folks. Leaving paradise.
More later,
Wes

Traveling the Island and visiting Brimstone Hill

Monday we hit the pool early. Vickie went by the Calypso Café and got some donuts, which went great with the rum punch, I started drinking around 07:00 since we really didn’t have anything else. By the middle of the morning, they said they were going to head off for the grocery store. At this point I suggested I would stay put and keep an eye on the pool. Just bring more mixers. They came back later and all I really heard was the streets are so narrow that one time Jerry’s mirror got brushed back (possibly on a woman). Also that the grocery store, an IGA, was quite minimal in it’s selection and that the prices were high. However, we got the basics for sustenance for the rest of the week and they joined me back at the pool. Vickie made sure I was properly coated with sunscreen, and Jerry brought me a wonderful sandwich.

I told them a story about while they were gone. I decided to explore, and after checking out the various shops and restaurants (all very expensive) and ended up at the pool bar where you can sit in the water and socialize at the bar. While I’m sitting there this fellow with quite a number of tattoos, all of which were high quality, sort of gruffly said to me the classic “Whad’a you lookin at?” Now you have to remember I was wearing my Stevie Wonder black RayBans, and the chance of him being able to see my eyes was slim or nothing. Since he was quite large I decided to ignore the whole situation and soon left the pool bar back to My Space at the other pool. After sitting and contemplating the whole situation over several more rum punches, I decided to go back and find the guy. I found him, and very politely asked him what his problem was. He said sorry forget about it, he was having a bad day. I accepted that and went on about my business. Interestingly enough later on that evening, he came over and shook my hand and said he wanted to apologize, he was really sorry; it was just a bad moment for him. Amazing how human interaction goes. If I had been confrontational with him at the first meeting………I probably would have got my ass whipped and been in big trouble in a foreign country. As it turned out, I turned the other cheek, and all was well.

The next day I asked Jerry if we could try and find a local produce market so I could get some ingredients for a couple of dinners. He agreed and despite his harrowing first driving experience, we set out again. This was my first time as navigator. I’ll have to admit it is pretty weird sitting behind the dashboard where you are used to driving except all the controls are on the other side. We soon learned the technique of me watching the left side and folding the mirror when necessary with Jerry driving and doing the same on the right. Roundabouts are especially challenging. We found a little market down by the ferry terminal (ferry to Nevis) and I got some nice produce. We then headed on around the island on some of the skinniest roads I have ever seen. The roads are about a lane and ½ wide, and they allow parking on most of them. It’s pretty insane driving. After a while, Jerry made a right turn and we found ourselves headed up the access road to Brimstone Hill Fortress.

Brimstone Hill Fortress is a very significant point in the history of the Caribbean. Because of this fort and its commanding view of the surrounding waters, the English managed to maintain control of the West Indies and its lucrative sugar trade for hundreds of years. We got to the top of the winding access road and found it was $8 per person to visit plus $5 for an electronic guide phone thingie. We were a little hesitant about the steep entrance fee, but after viewing the fort, we were pleasantly surprised. Wisely, St. Kitts and England have turned preservation of Fort George over to a private foundation. All the money collected goes to support a small staff and the preservation of the fort. The Island Government contributes an annual stipend to assist with the work. The electronic guide really wasn’t necessary for us as Jerry and I had both read, “The Sweet Trade a History of St. Kitts” before coming here. We knew the significance the fort but it was just so cool seeing it in person. The views from atop the fort were astounding.

We continued our trip around the island, and in the process discovered we really didn’t need to spend the $89 per person to ride the old sugar cane train. The tracks ran pretty much parallel to the road and we got to see most of everything the train would have. Also we discovered the train only goes half way around the island and then they make you get off and get on busses. We followed our map and soon we were back at the resort. I just discovered recorded on my pocket recorder: I was supposed to report, on the way home from the fort, we saw 2 monkeys, 2 rainbows, and a site where they are building an old folks home that we all decided is where we want to end up. Also on the return trip we drove past the land fill which my compatriots that can smell said smelled pretty bad. Brenda commented it was quite a waste of beachfront property to make it a landfill. I figure in 10 years there will be high-rise condos on top of that landfill.

Would like to take a minute to diverge into a discussion of the Marriott Beach Club here at the St. Kitts Royal Marriot Hotel and Casino. We have stayed at numerous Marriott Vacation Club properties, and many other time-share properties under different company management. This Marriott is a little curious in that it’s a hotel and casino first, and then a time-share second. In order to build their time-share units, they are converting hotel buildings to time share buildings. It has only really been open as a time-share for about 2 years. They don’t quite have it right yet. We waited 18 months to get a trade to a unit here for our unit in Aruba. I’m not sure it was worth the wait. The grounds are beautiful, the pools are very nice, and the beach is large. It just escapes me what the issue is, but I think it’s the hustle bustle of the Hotel and Casino. People are always coming and going and the time-share is just a tiny part of the operation. The units are nicely appointed, but not up to the standards we expect from Marriott. Examples are Sunday when we arrived, I reported the exhaust fan did not work in my bathroom, it is Thursday and no mention made of it. (I even gave the General Manager a note at the Tues night Owners Reception---that was a joke) And then there is the whole issue with the Internet access. No one seems to care, no one talks to each other, and all they do is jerk me around. This is at what is supposed to be a 5 star resort----whatever that means. And the windows are all cloudy in our bedroom, there are only three chairs for the deck for a unit designed for at least 2 couples. There is no broiler pan in the stove, and no cookie sheet for heating bread. I could go on and on but you get the drift. Rant over.

One cool thing that has happened, a family of Lesser Antillean Bull Finches has adopted us. I noticed them scurrying around looking for cracker crumbs when we were snacking, so I gave them some cracker. Now they come right up to the door and chirp merrily asking for crackers. Their sound is quite pleasant, and they are fun company. The males are very pretty with an orange red neck with the rest very black. About the size of our North American Goldfinches. They are very unafraid, and when we really ignore them, they will come in and sit on the back of the dining room chair and chirp loudly.

Well off to the pool for some sun and relaxation. Seems like I did that yesterday, and the day before, oh well it’s a dirty job but someone has to do it.
More later,
Wes

To St. Kitts and Jerry's Driving Challenge

Sunday morning, we packed all our things back, piled them in the rental car, and headed for the St. Maarten airport. Of note here is our discovery of how to operate the compactor in our villa 10 minutes before we were to leave. Four adults a new compactor, and we never could figure out how to make it compact. It is a new Kitchenaid, and turns out you pick up on the opening foot pedal with your toe to make it compact. We dropped the bags off with the girls at the airport, and rode down to turn in the rental car. Along the way we stopped to fill the gas tank. I was watching the meter spin round and round and it ended up at 25.458 liters $36.91 Florins. The guy came to the window and said $25 US so that’s what we paid him. Later reading the car rental agreement, we had a good laugh. Seems like the desk clerk, who seemed a little rushed, created a new address for Jerry. Jerry now lives at 176 Red Gerald Resort Martinsvill. Virginia VA 24112606. Hope they don’t try to send him a letter there.

Customs and TSA at the St. Maarten Airport were pretty benign, and we were soon safely camped in our boarding area awaiting transportation. Pretty much on time our Liat Air Dash 8 turboprop pulls up to fetch us. We walk out across the tarmac, and climb aboard an already ¾ full flight. We find some seats here and there and settle ourselves for take off. It is stiflingly hot in the plane, but we know as soon as they start the engines it will be ok. Wrong. They started the engines, and perhaps because it was a low altitude flight, the pilot never turned on the air that blows out of those little overhead twisty things. So as the automaton (read flight attendant) droned her way through pages of the usual text, we taxied out for take off. I figured it had to get cooler when we were off the ground. Wrong again. Luckily it was only about a 20-minute flight to St. Kitts, and after one more memorized spiel from the robot flight attendant, we were in St. Kitts.

Customs and immigration in St. Kitts was very low key, with the exception of the lady that kept telling us to change lines.

Here I have to diverge a little to explain my great fall. You know how they have those movie theater type ropes to designate lines when you have things like say immigration. There was a grand total of about 10 or 12 folks that got off the plane in St. Kitts, and there were four “lanes” designated by the movie theater ropes. Jerry and Brenda picked one lane and proceeded on through. Vickie and I picked another lane and were told to stand at the yellow line. Then soon a lady came and told us to change lanes. Since the ropes were only about 18” off the ground, I decided to step over them rather than walk all the way back to get in the other lane. Then in a little while she told us to change lanes again. I repeated the process only this time I caught the top of my crock on the rope and went down with my armload of stuff the rope and poles. Everyone thought I was dead or something and came swarming. A very nice gentleman held out his hand and helped me get up from the floor. I was unhurt, just felt kind of dumb. I overheard the supervisor getting all over the lady to be sure and make the folks walk back and go around when changing lanes. I still don’t get what all the changing lanes stuff was about.

Finally our turn came, and we were processed through immigration by a girl who sang most of the time she was processing our papers. She didn’t sing to us, she just sang. But the papers were processed, and our luggage was half-heartedly searched, and we picked up our Hertz car. Two interesting twists here: first you have to buy a 31-day St. Kitts temporary drivers license. No test is required, just that they copy down the info from your driver’s license and you give them $25. Just another mindless tourist fleecing these islands seem to be so good at. Maybe the US could learn from this---let’s tax the heck out of all incoming and outgoing tourists that are not American nationals. But then that would be un-American or would it. Second surprise was twofold, first they drive on the left here (like England) and second, our Honda Accord had the steering wheel on the passenger side. Jerry had experience driving on the left side, but never when the steering wheel was on the passenger side. So we loaded up the luggage, and timidly headed out into the St. Kitts traffic, all of us helping Jerry to stay to the left.

After a brief drive and only one wrong turn, we arrived at the St. Kitts Marriott Beach Club. We were heartily welcomed, and given a young fellow to escort us and haul our luggage to our room. This place was quite different than other Marriott Vacation Club we have been to in that it is attached to (actually part of) Marriott St. Kitts Resort and Royal Beach Casino. Therefore the lobby is quite bustling and busy. We arrived at our room, and were greeted by what we have come to expect from Marriott Vacation Clubs, very nice accommodations. (With a few exceptions I’ll get into later)

Our first surprise was that the grocery store was only open from 8-12 am. So we were out of luck there. The resort contained a few little shops, so Brenda and Jerry went off in search of necessities. Bless their hearts back they came with a big bottle of local sugar cane rum and some delicious fruity mixers. We were soon unpacked and down by the pool enjoying the trade winds. For dinner that night we availed ourselves of something called the Pizza Shack, which served pretty good individual pizzas, and an OK Caesar side salad. We then retired for the night planning our exploits for the next day.

What I have not spoken about here yet is the Internet access issue. All of the rooms were supposed to have wired Ethernet connections, of which our suite had 3. However no matter what plug I plugged into or what cord I used, it wasn’t there. So I called the “supposed to help you with everything” folks. They sent two different guys up with different cords, and then finally told me they must have a problem, the big I.T. guy wasn’t here, I should go to the business center and they’d give me some free time. Well I walked all the way to the business center (closing in 20 minutes) and the guy looked at me like I was crazy. He made some calls, and then told me to go back to my room and I would have wireless. I got back to the room (oh and all this involved walking back and forth about ½ a mile) tried the wireless and it didn’t work—wanted a code. So I called them back, and they said they could provide wireless, but it would be $20 for 24 hr. I promptly told them I wasn’t paying for something that was supposed to be free. So they sent another guy up and finally got me on wireless. Great---or not so. The only place the wireless works in the condo is out on the deck, and then doesn’t have enough power to upload anything, and barely read Email. So, tired of fooling with the stuff, I gave up and read a book till bedtime. It gets better.
More later,
Wes
challenge

Jet Blast at The Sunset Beach Bar

Last I wrote, we were headed for the Sunset Beach Bar to experience a uniquely local pastime involving the jet wash from huge jet planes. St. Maarten has only one active runway. 90% of the time the planes land and take off toward the mountains with the sea at their back. On the end of the runway where the planes start their take off is a narrow strip of public land outside the airport perimeter. This is where the Sunset Beach Bar is located. They have an old surfboard stuck in the ground outside the bar where they keep a list of all the landing and departure times. Also on the bar deck they have speakers so you can hear the conversations between the pilots and ground control. Landings are one particular sort of thrill. You stand directly in front of the runway and these huge planes hurtle toward you passing about 50 feet over your head. Looks like they are going to fly directly into where you are standing. The take offs are another thing entirely. Some brave souls have been known to hang on to the fence that demarcates the airport property. It’s said that one of the larger jets will actually blow them up so their feet are off the ground. We were not able to witness this particular type of lunacy. We did, however, get to see some brave young boys stand on the beach in the direct blast zone. When the jet started its take off run, they were pushed and then tumbled down the beach into the water. One young buck was able to save his beer but lost his camera in the process. It was sort of like a small Olympic sport, as all the patrons on the bar deck cheered for great performances.

One thing worth mentioning: while Vickie and I were sailing earlier, Jerry and Brenda strolled the boardwalk and had a wonderful lunch at one of the oldest hotels on St. Maarten, The Pasanggrahan Royal Guest House. They had Bell Pepper stuffed with Chicken Salad, and a Tomato stuffed with Tuna Salad, both presented on a bed of lettuce pepper rings and other greenery. They said the food service and ambience were wonderful, in spite of two cruise ships being in town. Since Jerry and Brenda had a late lunch, we just grabbed something at the McDonald’s drive though on the way home from sailing. Amazing McDonalds is pretty much the same everywhere, but it tasted like they still used the good (including trans fat and flavoring) grease to cook their French Fries. They tasted like the McDonald’s fries I remembered.

The next day, we set out on a circumnavigation of the island to see the French side. We drove all the way up the other coast, and saw the numerous beaches and vistas. This is truly a grubby little island with great scenery and beaches. They are taking in an immense amount of tourist taxes and fees, but very little of it is going into infrastructure. It is also the land of speed bumps. Almost every road you drive on has periodic speed bumps often tall enough to scrape the frame of the car. The locals use the speed bumps as sort of crazy passing zones. They wait for the tourists in their rental cars to slow for the speed bumps and then they fly by at high speed passing while ignoring the speed bumps. This must be a shock absorber salesman’s heaven. Oh and they have speed DIPS which as you can guess are the opposite of speed bumps. We decided they are even worse and they don’t paint any of the darn things yellow, dips or bumps. On the way home from the circumnavigation we stopped at the Boathouse Seafood Grill and Bar for a late lunch. The food turned out to be excellent. Jerry and I had Fish and Chips that we both agreed were some of the best ever, and the girls had wraps that they greatly enjoyed. Tomorrow we pack up and travel on to St. Kitts.
More later,
Wes

12 Meter Racing in St. Maarten

Well we were up bright and early yesterday morning to get ready for our sailing adventure. We donned scopolamine patches at the prescribed time to ward of the dreaded motion sickness. At Christmas, my daughter and her husband gave us a brown business envelope with a Xerox certificate in it. The certificate was for our participation in the St. Maarten 12meter challenge. We checked it out on the Internet, and it looked like great fun. (Also looked a little scary) But back in St. Maarten, we had it all planned, Jerry and Brenda were going to drive us down to the port and take pictures as we left. They would have fun in Phillipsburg while we were out sailing. We arrived in Phillipsburg a little early on purpose to be sure we had enough time to navigate the traffic and find Bobbies Marina where the sailing was headquartered. We drove past the tiny sign for Bobbies a couple times till we found the entrance to the parking lot. Once landed in the parking lot, we still had to ask directions to get to the 12meter shop. It was over there through the alley down to the water and turn left….but watch out cause they are paving down along the water. But undaunted, we found the place in plenty of time and a very nice lady, who knew my daughter from Email, accepted our certificate and told us we’d be heading out in about 30 minutes. We wandered around and then sat down out front to wait.

Soon a pontoon sort of boat pulled up and tied up at the dock. It said 72 passengers max, so we were a little confused. The nice lady told us it was big cause it had to take the 09:30 folks off the racing boats and put us on. We saw a young photographer and his yellow lab get into an inflatable boat and head out with great speed to the harbor, wondering what his mission was. Once again we were talking to the nice lady and she was telling us all about cruise ships and the tourism industry. She told us there were only 2 ships in today, and they could hold 4 at their dock. They are expanding their dock to hold as many as 6 ships. She said last year, they would often have 5 or 6 ships and two of them had to moor off shore, tendering their folks back and forth to the shore. (The cruise ships don’t like that because it’s too much expense and trouble) She also said they actually had 9 cruise ships in port at one time and it was insanity. So the cruise companies got together and adjusted sailing schedules so now 4 at a time is about the norm.

Back to the sailing: At the appointed time we loaded on the shuttle boat with 12 or so folks, and headed out. We waved and Jerry took pictures. Two minutes later we were pulling back into the dock and Jerry took pictures again. Jerry and Brenda cheered and asked how was it. We picked up some stragglers, and then left again. (Little did I know I was really glad we went back to get the 4 young boys that got on) Now we headed out into the port area seeing all the boats, cruise ships, beautiful cliff houses, and brilliant blue green water. Soon we pulled in again, but this time it was at the water taxi dock near the cruise ships. Here we got back off the shuttle and met the rest of our racing folks. A real great guy was there to tell us the whole history of America’s Cup Racing, and divide us into teams. Vickie and I got on the same team, and our team captain got to participate in the coin toss for boat preference. We all discussed it, and told her if she won the toss we wanted Stars and Stripes (Dennis Conner’s winning boat from 1987). We won the toss and got Stars and Stripes. Then we got back on the shuttle boat, now sitting as two teams. They encouraged us to trash talk the other team and start getting our team spirit together. Later he came around and assigned us jobs for our up coming race. We had our choice of “active, semi active, or non active” jobs. Vickie and I both said we would try anything. I didn’t know at the time but Vickie whispered to Ron the job guy “Don’t put the man behind me(Wes) near a rope because he tangles extension cords badly” She ended up as the Main Sheet Trimmer with tangly ropes reporting directly to the captain. (Perfectly suited to her cause she is good with ropes and keeping them untangled) I ended up as a galley slave, better known as a Primary Grinder. (According to the crew on real race boats they use NFL linemen as grinders because of their strength and quickness) I’m sure he picked me for my strength and quickness.

Soon a delicate ballet started to get the shuttle “barge” alongside the greyhound like sailing vessels. We were safely secured along side our race boat, and we transferred off the earlier crew, and we climbed aboard. The ballet was repeated for the Canada II, which was the boat we were to race.

While they got the Canada II loaded up and for the rest of trip out to the race starting point, our crew (Captain, Mate and 1st Mate) taught us how to crew a 12meter boat. Vickie had to learn how to loosen or tighten the rope around her drum winch, which allowed the main sail sheet to go in and out. She had two Main Grinders to power her winch pulling it in. I was introduced to the job of Primary Grinder. The Primary Grinders supply the power for 2 winches, one on either side of the boat, which put tension on the jib (sail in the front). What we had to do is take orders from both of the mates, and when they told us, 4 people working together grabbed these rotating handles and cranked like hell in one of 3 “gears”. Luckily it was me 2 young boys from Brazil, and a young girl. These two young boys were part of the four we went back to pick up at the dock. Otherwise, it would have been me, the girl, and couple of old women as Primary Grinders. Of course you had to do all this cranking while bracing your feet at crazy angles as the boat heeled from side to side. To quote myself “It was more fun than fun”. The Captain would yell “tacking” which would be followed by a whole bunch of frantic grinding, ropes flying around and a big whomp as the sails took up the strain on the other side of the boat. At the coaching and encouragement of our Captain (His name was Captain Morgan----really) we started whooping and cheering when we got off a good sharp maneuver. Me and the other grinders started making great growling noises as we sprang to our work, and life was good. We had a perfect day, not too hot, waves not too huge, and 18 to 20 knots of wind. We tacked back and forth in front of the starting line maneuvering for position on the other boat. (I learned that the boat on the port tack has the right of way)

We had a good clean start, and began tacking back and forth on our 1st upwind leg. Even though they told us 20 to 22 knots was as fast as we’d be going today, it seemed we were flying over the water. We were pretty much in a dead heat at the end of the first leg, and rounded the marker smartly. We started the downwind leg, and they told the Primaries to take a break on this leg, which involve a cold beer that went down in about 4 swallows and never tasted so good. Half way through the downwind leg, Canada II passed us and the Captain decided to tack off for some better winds. (Surprising the Primary Grinders) Beer cans and water bottles hit the floor as we sprang to the task. We picked up some better wind, and were slightly ahead rounding the second marker. As we turned back up wind, we began a tacking duel with Canada II and I thought my arms were going to fall off. But every tack we were gaining on them, and one time we came so close to the other boat our Captain caught the perfect wave and put tons of water in the other boats cockpit. We had one more leg to go, and the Captain let our team captain choose the turn direction. He asked us if we had another tacking run in us and received a resounding yes, so we went for it. At times the sides of the boat were down almost to the water, but we were flying, and as we approached the official boat we did one last lightening tack, and ended up on the inside with the shortest distance to the finish line. We won by about 6 feet, and what a feeling. My arms were burning and the mate told us we just did about an hour, the real racers go for about 6 hours. Wish I’d discovered this when I was young. Vickie did a great job with her sheet trimming, as the Captain called out “Vickie sweetheart, give me 2 feet out” or “Vickie give me 20 feet out quickly”. By the end of the race it was mostly “Sweetheart”. She had a very difficult job, and handled it with precision.

After the race and a brief celebration, we went back into port and tied up to a mooring. We were the last race of the day. They offered if we wanted to go swimming, over the side was fine, they had a rope ladder to get back up. I didn’t think my walrus self could navigate a rope ladder, but Vickie went it. Turns out getting back up the rope ladder was pretty tough but the crew were good sports and helped Vickie make the climb. Soon we boarded the tender for the trip back to shore. We stopped by the shop for a complimentary Rum Punch, and some souvenirs. Turned out the photographer with the dog in the boat worked for them, and we bought a great picture from him of us at work on the boat as crew. That along with T-shirts that designate us as Stars and Stripes US-55 crewmembers 2009 topped off the day. If we ever return to race again and wear our 2009 T-shirts we will each get a free T-shirt for that race. Jerry and Brenda were there to pick us up, and we headed home via the Sunset Bar. The Sunset Bar is an outdoor bar at the end of the runway at the airport. Everyone comes there to experience the jet blast from the departing jets, but that’s another story. Regards from Paradise,
More later,
Wes

Sunset at Calmos Grand Case St. Maarten

Our first day at The Cliff consisted of swimming in the salt water, lying in the sun, then swimming in the pool, lying in the sun, and pretty much vegging out accompanied by the occasional adult beverage. As the afternoon wore on we started thinking about dinner. We decided to avail ourselves of the Concierge provided with the accommodations. Her name, quite aptly, is Gabby. She is a very knowledgeable resource, and when asked about dinner, she began by inquiring what we wanted to eat. Our reply was seafood. At that she sprung into action and sounded exactly like a Concierge, “oh I know this great place down the road a bit…….don’t know if I can get a reservation for 4………..you’ll just love the chef………sort of nuvo cuisine etc. etc”. We stood making noncommittal grunts and faces as she rattled on about this place or that, until I sort of cut through all the euro speak with “How bout a piece of grilled fish on the beach?” At this point, she immediately switched gears and became our best friend. End result was we were headed for Calmos Café to put our feet in the Caribbean with some great drinks and watch the sun go down, then walk down to the LoLo and get something cool to eat. Sounded pretty good to me.

We finished our afternoon of decadent indolence by retreating to the balcony of the villa to watch the planes and boats, read and doze, all with a background music of soothing surf below us on the cliffs.

As the afternoon wore on, showers were taken, plans were loosely made, and about 5 ish we headed up the road to Grand Case on the French side of the island. Roads on the French side of the island proved to be a little better in condition, but just as crowded and congested. We arrived at the Calmos Café, and made our way through its little souvenir shop, and were greeted by web slingback chairs with small tables and kerosene railroad lanterns, spread randomly on the beach. It was obvious what folks did was come here to watch the sunset on the beach…..all the chairs were facing the water. We chose a spot, and were served delicious cocktails by a very young very French waiter. (The girls wanted to take him home) The sun did it’s natural thing in a most beautiful fashion as we were surrounded by the moored boats of all kinds, azure blue water, and a generally dare I say romantic atmosphere. Those who know me know I’m not the romanticist, but this was one of those “don’t get no better than this” kind of place.

After sundown, we headed just a little way down the beach to what is called “The Lo Lo”. The LoLo is a place to eat on the beach, but with a twist. There are six or eight sort of restaurants all clustered together on sort of a boardwalk kind of setting, but more in a square. All of them have mostly the same food consisting of “stuff” grilled over charcoal in half an oil drum, and a row of large slow cookers with other “stuff” Pretty much how you decide where to eat is by the waitresses out front exhorting you to come to their particular establishment, and eying the “stuff” cooking on the grill. (Oh and also how close to the water do you want to be) We ended up at one establishment where the barker who was also the waitress, offered Brenda “your first drink is on the house darlin if you bring your folks here” We sat down and ordered, ribs for Vickie, chicken for Brenda, and Marlin for Jerry and I. (I hope Marlin isn’t endangered) The food came and was most interesting. The dishes were called “Foods” as in Chicken Food, Marlin Food etc. What this entailed was a huge plate with the meat main course surrounded by small piles of about 10 different items. Before dinner, she brought us some Jonny Cakes, which are like donuts only made with bread dough instead of sweet dough/batter, and deep-fried. They were delicious. Good meal, price not outrageous, and great fun. After the meal, we navigated home, getting lost and ending up coming back from the completely other direction we intended, but saw a lot of St. Maarten in the process. Everyone was pretty whipped, and books and magazines soon turned to snores and comfortable beds. We all say—it’s too early for bed, but then we wake up bright and cheerful the next morning ready to tackle another day in Paradise.

Note, yesterday I mentioned the huge abandoned golf/condo complex we had been driving through. We asked Gabby about that. Turns out it was built in the late 70’s early 80’s by the Saudi Arabian Finance Minister. Place was super deluxe, and folks like the Kennedy’s, Fords, etc. owned condos and stayed there. Then along came hurricane Luis in 1995 and decimated the place. (It also decimated The LoLo where we ate) Well according to the story, the Saudi Prince took all the insurance money and ran---not fixing anything. Numerous lawsuits flew back and forth and he ended up paying off all the condo owners ten years later, but still fixing nothing. So there it lays today as Gabby said “A national embarrassment” The wreckage still lays there, and the golf course is all grown up, untended. It looks like a den for drugs and homeless people. Gabby said the Government is still trying to gain control in the courts, but with limited success. She’s right; it is quite an embarrassment, a huge huge eyesore that you have to drive through anytime you head up the coast from the airport.

Next Wes and Vickie go on a sailing adventure.
More Later,
Wes

February in Paradise

Here we are in paradise. There is no other way to really say that. We left Greensboro Tuesday night/Wednesday morning, and it was snowing. Now a little over 24 hrs later, after a good nights sleep, we’re sitting overlooking the blue-green, see the bottom Caribbean.

The story starts with us leaving home Tuesday afternoon to spend the night in Greensboro. We had an 06:00 flight out of GSO, and decided we would rather roll out of bed @ 04:00 with a short drive, than roll out of bed at 02:30 with an hour drive and uncertain weather. We booked a couple of rooms at the Red Roof Inn on old Regional Road, not too far from the airport. Jerry takes care of rating our hotel stays on Trip Advisor, but I’ll just say the Red Roof Inn was pretty much what we paid for, a cheap place to sleep prior to an early flight. Everything was OK with the exception of a little screw up that had Jerry and Brenda assigned to a room that hadn’t been cleaned yet. However that turned out ok as they got upgraded to the “King Suite” for their inconvenience. Prior to crashing at the RRI, we stopped for a bite to eat at FATZ Café that was just up the street from the motel.

This is a restaurant that appeared to be a chain, and based on the signage, not open more than a couple of weeks. It was obvious after we were there for a while that they were still undergoing some growing pains. Let’s just say the service was very friendly but somewhat ineffective. I got a little worried when I went to the restroom, and happened to look into the kitchen. (This particular door probably wasn’t supposed to be open) I saw 12 or 14 people in various uniforms standing in a mob gesturing vigorously. This didn’t bode well for the fate of our dinner, as I related to my companions upon returning to the table. But then maybe they were just having a pep rally to get the old team spirit going. In any event, our food started arriving, and the salads were definitely salads. Finally the main courses arrived and looked appetizing. Brenda and Jerry had ordered a Philly Steak Sandwich to split, and the kitchen crew graciously split the sandwich and the accompanying fries to two plates. Vickie had ordered a smothered chopped steak, and it looked good, but had an odd taste to the gravy. I tasted it and thought they perhaps used wine or vinegar to deglaze the pan albeit a little heavy handed. I had ordered a Thai Shrimp dish that was supposed to come over fried potato straws. It ended up coming over very tiny thin onion rings. The whole thing was dusted with wasabi sesame seeds, and looked pretty good. It tasted OK, but was way to salty, and the sauce was an unimpressive, probably bottled, oriental chili sauce type of “stuff”. On the whole we were unimpressed by the food and the prices were low to medium. After dinner it was back to the Red Roof, and watch a little tube to get sleepy early for an 0:400 wake up call.

As Robin Williams said in Good Morning Viet Nam “What does the O in O4:00 stand for?………….. OH MY GOD IT”S EARLY” The clock went off, the phone rang, and I was my usual disoriented self at 4 in the morning. In the ensuing years since my retirement, I have grown fond of the luxury of waking up naturally (as in when I’m damn good and ready). Forced rapid activity in the wee hours of the morning somehow seem non intuitive to my system these days. Here I’ll diverge for just a second and talk a little about the shower arrangements at the Red Roof Inn. The bathroom in the RRI was necessarily quite small. But the way it was set up the commode caught you right about in the shin if you opened the door and entered briskly. Then when I was taking a shower, they had this little package of shampoo that seemed cool, until you tried to open it. With wet soapy hands, it was impossible. So I even tried drying my hands and working on it, but the darn thing was still impenetrable. I finally resorted to biting it with my teeth and finally gave up when it dawned on me that a mouthful of shampoo was imminent. Someone else will get to fight with that little monster another time. Also a quick note about the RRI bed: although the mattress was quite comfortable, Vickie and I both learned the hard way not to sit down hard on it. Seems as though they have dispensed with the usual foundation unit and substituted a hard wooden board. This makes the bed quite tailbone jarring when you sit down briskly.

But we did what we had to do, were on our way, and had a quite pleasurable experience both at GSO and Atlanta on our way to St. Maarten. We had a nice layover in Atlanta, and used our AMEX Platinum Cards to take advantage of the Delta Crown Room. They had a nice spread of breakfast type munchies and the ever-present endless supply of adult beverages. We were soon in a much more tropical state of mind, and aboard the flight for St. Maarten. The plane was not slap full as we have been experiencing in recent travel and we had room to stretch out and enjoy the uneventful 4 hr flight.

Arriving in St. Maarten, you immediately knew coming up the jetway you were in the tropics. The heat and humidity were instant reminders. Immigration in St. Maarten was painless, and all of our luggage faithfully followed us. We had a reservation with Dollar Rent a Car, and a nice man led us out to where we would meet the shuttle to the car rental agency. Fun started here. The driver of the shuttle bus must have gone to the Cancun bus driver’s academy. For those of you that don’t remember that is where bus drivers go to learn the driving technique that involves wide open throttle followed by full braking then repeat, all done inches from the vehicle in front of you. This driver wasn’t a true believer however because one time he actually apologized for a particularly close call. Some of the others on the bus said no problem, It’s ok, doesn’t bother me. I took a different approach, I told him no problem man doesn’t bother me a bit----I’m blind. My fellow travelers began berating me heavily and told the driver I was not in fact blind. Well it broke the ice, and soon the driver felt confident enough to bypass the long line of standing traffic in the wrong lane playing chicken with an oncoming truck. He held out as long as he could stand it then ducked into a parking lot on the left to let the traffic clear long enough for another wrong lane dash down to the exit of the car rental place. He ducked in there, but had to once again stare down the oncoming traffic to back out to get to the entrance of the lot. After that, renting the car went fine with no great surprises. Our “Full Size Car” ended up being a Hundai Elantra, so we ended up with three bags in the trunk and one between the girls in the back seat. We had some general directions, and we sort of generally followed them, and actually found our place. On the way to get to it we drove through what appears to be a huge abandoned golf course condo development that is unbelievably seedy. (Read ready for the bulldozer) I have to find out about that and will relate it later.

Arriving at our lodging we were very impressed, the place was beautiful. The maid was still finishing up, so we dropped off our stuff, and headed down the street to an outside café we had seen for some adult beverages and tropical breezes. Turned out to be the Atlantis Casino, and the outdoor bar was called the Sugar Cane. We had some reasonably good tropical like drink thingies, with abominably slow service. While awaiting the glacial drink service, Vickie found a nice gentleman that gave us directions to the local grocery/liquor store. Just what we like, one stop shopping. After our refreshment, we headed off to the grocery to stock up for our four days in St. Maarten. We rounded up the necessities, and headed back to the Cliff. (That’s what our lodging is called The Cliff at Cupecoy) Now that we were really able to move in and check out the surroundings, we were really impressed. The place was very large with absolutely top-drawer furnishings. We have our own double balcony overlooking the pool, beach and Caribbean. From the living area and balcony you can hear the waves crashing against The Cliff. The whole combination is unbelievable. The resort has a Christian Dior Spa, indoor and outdoor pools, it’s own private beach, and exercise room with every machine known to man and a Concierge. Also most interesting is that the place is not even half full, maybe even less than that. There are hardly any cars in the parking lot, and we’ve seen few other folks. Like having our own private resort. We are certainly enjoying it, and spent the first day just enjoying the sun and being warm.

More later,

Wes and Vickie

Index of Writings

May 2005-----------Road Trip 2005
March 2006--------Eldorado Ranch and San Diego
July 2006-----------My Introduction
October 2006------Aruba
February 2007-----Florida Road Trip Part 1
March 2007--------Florida Road Trip Part 2
April 2007----------Newport Beach and LA
June 2007----------Kitty Hawk at the Beach
September 2007---New England Road Trip
October 2007------Houseship on Lake Powell
February 2008----Alaska and Iditerod
March 2008-------More Alaska
May 2008----------Florida Palm Coast
July 2008----------My Dad Died
August 2008------Amtrack to Vero Beach
September 2008-Topsail Beach
October 2008-----New Mexico Adventure
January 2009-----Son's Historical Note
February 2009----St. Maarten and St. Kitts

tales from the past

Hi All, Wes IV here..

I've managed to save most of my dad's writings from his trips in the past number of years in my email, and I'm going to start working on posting them here so that they're slightly more accessible. I'm going to back-date them based on the timestamp on my emails, so that they're roughly dated according to when they were written.
Because they'll be backdated, they won't show up as recent posts, but you'll see archive entries starting to show up from May, 2o05 onward.
They are posted mostly without editing for your reading pleasure.
Share and Enjoy!

New Mexico Adventure #8--Exploring Rudicio, On to Albuquerque and Preparing to Fly

Well, it’s that inevitable time---preparing to travel home. We are now in Albuquerque at a Marriott Fairfield, checked in and unlaxing. We checked out of Ruidoso this morning, and made the drive up (North) to Albuquerque.

Yesterday we made the 12-mile drive winding up the road, complete with old cable style guardrails, 10,000 feet up to the Ski Apache on top of the mountain above Ruidoso. The views were again incredible, but the leaves were now more to the dark yellow as opposed to the bright yellow last week. My recording on my backup brain (my little Olympus digital voice recorder I couldn’t live without) went something like this: “Here we are up on top of the mountain at The Ski Apache. It’s pretty high up here and it’s beautiful and high and we liked it and we stopped to look around and the ski lifts look really scary.” That pretty much covers the third in our magical mountain accent tours. We made three over 10,000 foot assents on this trip, one more beautiful than the other. New Mexico in Fall is a strong rival for our trip in New England last fall. On the way down we stopped at an overlook for some great pictures. From the overlook you could see The Inn of The Mountain Gods Resort and Casino on the beautiful little lake nestled in the mountains.

This was our next destination. The Mescalero Apache tribe runs both Ski Apache and The Resort. The Resort cannot be too old. On the road leading up to it, you pass what appears to be an abandoned restaurant and inn that was probably the predecessor of the current Inn/Casino complex. The new complex rivals anything in the area. The casino is very large, and they have table games. The lobby of the Inn overlooks the beautiful lake through a wall of glass, and fountains abound. All of the floors are highly polished terrazzo, and the common areas are resplendent in Native American art. The usually ubiquitous MUZAK is replaced by non-stop Indian flute music. At first it is a little annoying, but after a while it becomes soothing and very haunting. We had a nice time visiting, and my other companions spent some time donating some money to the Apache tribe before we left.

We wandered down from the Mountain of The Gods back to Ruidoso on the lookout for some dinner. We wanted to try the barbeque place that had fed us when we were at the Cowboy Symposium, but they were closed for the week. (they probably take a week off to rest up after feeding the mega crowds at the Symposium) So we settled for heading back down the street to the Circle J, also barbeque. They had a great deal on senior plates with a meat, home made yeast roll, and two sides for $6.50 so we were all over that. Vickie and Jerry went for ribs, Brenda had a stew they were offering, and I signed in with brisket. It was good hearty barbeque, but lacked the polished presentation of the “Can’t Stop Smokin” food we had at the Symposium. After dinner it was back to the condo for packing and an evening split between CSI and political BS. (plenty of political BS with the emphasis on the S)

This morning we headed out of town and ironically we passed a stand with a sign, “Last chance for green chilies”, so goodbye to Ruidoso, Santa Fe, and the hanging chilies. We were headed for Albuquerque route to be determined. We took Rt. 37 back out of town to NM 380 and 380 across to Carrizozo NM. We stayed on 380 across the Valley Of The Fires till we crossed the Rio Grande (which was running in high flood with very brown water) and got on NM 1 headed north. It turned out NM 1 ran pretty much alongside I-25, so we jumped on the Interstate. Our first surprise was the 75 MPH speed limit on I-25. Jerry set the cruise on about 79.8 and we boogied. (I knew because I have a speedometer on my GPS navigation console, also the altitude) The quite reasonable and distance eating speed limit on I-25 made me wonder: do you think the fine political servants from NM will be supporting the ludicrous agenda in Congress to reinstate the National 55 MPH speed limit? I don’t think so! One thing I noted to myself; if you really want to see the back country in NM, be sure to rent an SUV cause there are a lot of dirt and two rut roads. Then as we were riding along at our designated 79.8, a New Mexico State Trooper came by us in a black and white Crown Vic like we were stopped. He then proceeded to vanish into the distance. He didn’t even have his blinky lights on—I had no idea a Crown Vic would run that fast.

We were needing some lunch, so we dropped off the second exit for Belen NM. Instinct took us to the older section of town, and we landed at the Circle-T Burger. The Circle-T was established in 1958 and was a Belen staple. We went in and ordered (after Vickie had a discussion with the counter girl about the relative heat of their “chilie”-which has nothing in common with what Wendy’s serves in a cup). The girl told her in no uncertain terms all their Chilie was hot, but they were out of the red they only had green, oh and that’s why they had “The Tortilla Burger”, with no more explanation. Vickie had some Nacho’s with green chilie on the side. Brenda and I got hot dogs (and I just had to try the fried bean burrito). Jerry got a burger with fries. The food was excellent, and unique. The hotdogs were split and grilled, served on toasted buns. The burrito was deep fried and very crispy. Jerry commented, that the fries tasted like they were fried in “real grease” not that stuff with the trans-fats removed. We highly enjoyed our visit to Belen, and while I was contemplating how to pronounce Belen, a nice local resident came by, and I asked him. He proudly told us it was pronounced BaLin, which means Bethlehem in Spanish. Once more we found the real NM by being open to the adventure at hand.

We continued uneventfully to Albuquerque and checked into the Fairfield Inn with the Brigham Young University Women’s Soccer Team (cougars). They are here to play the University of NM Lobo’s. Jerry spent some quality time riding up and down the elevator with them to socialize. (might have taken a few rides) We had great hors d’oeuvres from all the cheese, dip, veggies, fruit, and chips we brought from the condo in Vickie’ little cooler which ended up being dinner. We had a big time looking up crazy stuff on the Internet, and adjourned for bed early. We figured our timing, and we can load the car at 06:20, and be at the breakfast at 06:25. It really starts at 06:30 but they will have all the stuff out by then. We leave here by 06:45 or 50, and make our plane at 08:35 no sweat. The airport and rental car return are 7 minutes down the road from here. I'll be sleeping with my flying anexiety tonight, but atleast it's in a nice king bead. Wish us luck.
More later,

Wes

New Mexico Adventure #7--White Sands and Shopping

Well it’s Thursday morning, and we’re taking another less demanding day. Tomorrow we have to drive back up to Albuquerque, and yesterday we drove down and visited in the Alamogordo and White Sands area. Today we may take a run up and see what the Ruidoso ski area is like.

Yesterday, we got an early start, had a great breakfast at Denny’s, and headed South. Our first stop was a combination winery and pistachio nut farm. McGinn’s Pistachio Tree Ranch, Country Store and Arena Blanco Winery. They are famous for several of their wine varieties, and in the National Fiery Foods Scovie Awards, their Atomic Pistachio Brittle has won its category several years running. There we met a fellow who was an ex Phillip Morris employee, and we had a lot in common. (as he was with PM during the time it owned Miller) He appeared to be the owner of the wine and nut enterprise, and told us that the majority of pistachios in the US are owned by Sunkist and are grown in California. We sampled many of his nut flavors and several of the wine flavors. We ended up with a good supply of the best pistachios you have ever tasted and two great bottles of wine. Outside the store, we observed a stucco 50 foot pistachio nut under construction, and actual rows and rows of pistachio trees. Oh and by the way, the Atomic Pistachio Brittle lived up to its name. It didn’t blow you away all at first, it just kept getting hotter and hotter the more you chewed it. Like a good atomic device should.

Soon we were in Alamogordo, and observed $2.95 regular gas, go figure it was $3.95 not a month or so ago. Driving on we were passing through White Sands Missile Range, and the sign said that the road was prone to periodic closure for missile tests. It listed a phone number for info, so I called. Turned out the information was given at a blinding pace in broken English with a Spanish accent. Proved to be useless to me as I was without my Bat-translator-and time warp decelerator. Reminded me of one of those disclaimers they read at the end of commercials, but in broken English. As we proceeded further, we were riding along side Holloman Air Force Base that once was home to the FA117 Stealth Fighter. Now it is home to the new FA22 Raptor Fighter. According to a guy at the visitor’s center, all the FA117’s have been moved back to Nevada, have had their wings removed and are being scrapped. I find that very hard to believe.

Driving further South, we crossed the Government Land border and entered the White Sands Missile Range. We switched our Charger over to stealth mode, and kept a sharp lookout for incoming missiles. We arrived at the White Sands National Monument, and entered the Visitors Center. It was very nice, and gave us a great explanation of how the White Sands got to be there. They also had the compulsory gift shop and we all availed ourselves to that ubiquitous operation. One really cool thing the gift shop had was a plastic saucer that you could buy to go sliding down the sand dunes. The lovely young girl that checked me out said it was really fun, and the sand should be especially fast today since we had received a little rain in the last couple days. I looked at the plastic saucer and kidded her—it would take two for me, one for my feet and one for my big a__. Decided gimp sand sliding at high velocities was probably not conducive to my continuing health.

We went on the 8-mile drive back into the White Sands Dunes, to see what we could see. We stopped at a couple points and climbed the dunes. The White Sands dune area is vast and incredible. The drive we took only scratched the surface of what is probably 250 square miles of white sand dunes. The sand is gypsum as opposed to silica sand at the beach. Also encompassed in this area are secret government installations and a very long runway. (I think White Sands is like the third place in line the Space Shuttle lands if it can’t land in Florida or the dry lake In Mojave CA.) It was really fun, but would have been less so if it had been August and the temp was 115 or so. Then it would have felt like being on the surface of the sun since the snow-white sand reflects the sun back at you like a blast furnace. Jerry said these dunes are very much like the dunes on the shore of Lake Michigan at Sleeping Bear Dunes State Park. We had to be out of the dune sea (yuck yuck for Star Wars fans) by 12:30 as they had a missile test scheduled for 13:00 to 14:00. They actually close the National Monument and parts of the surrounding roads for the tests. The “in” gate was closed when we came out.

We headed back north to Alamogordo. Had to mention a lunch stop at Wendy’s where we received extraordinary service for a fast food restaurant. I plan to write a compliment to Wendy’s. There was a Imax theater there we wanted to check out. We stopped and there didn’t seem like too much activity. We went in and we would have had to wait for 40 minutes to see some kind of 40 minute Imax movie about mummies. We passed on that, and in the process coined another new traveling term, soon to be used again. We called it an “Imax Stop” meaning something we all decided we’d rather pass on.

We soon made another Imax stop at the much hyped Toy Train Museum and Railroad. It turned out to be a small building with some antique model trains inside, and some old guys playing with trains you could ride outside. It was $4.00/person for the Museum, and $4.00/person for the train ride, and as one belligerent old guy told Vickie “If it wasn’t worth $4.00 we wouldn’t charge $4.00” Guess he told her.

We left Alamogordo and headed back to Ruidoso via a town called Cloudcroft, which is at about 9000 feet. It was a scenic drive, and looked a lot more like Colorado than New Mexico. When we arrived back in Ruidoso, we made a stop at the little tourist trap kind of area in downtown. We were able to find some good prices on some Ruidoso labeled shirts and hats. I also found a Crocs store where I purchased a chili pepper Jibbet. I also noted they had a couple new designs of Crocs that I like and am going to look into when I get home. Crocs Yukon’s have leather uppers and are pretty cool. I also liked Crocs Vikings, which would be good for the type of hiking we have been doing lately as they don’t have any holes in the fronts or sides but do have them on top. Would keep the sand and briars out.

Went on down the road to a place called Bears R Us, which is a place to buy all manner of “stuff”, made out of and carved out of wood. Brenda was looking for a bear to stand on her front porch and we just hung around while she shopped. I got to talking to the Hispanic fellow who ran the place, and he was very interesting. This place had literally 10,000 items of wood stuff for sale. He was currently in the process of making a carved roadside sign for a local restaurant. Beside that undertaking he had a log about 14 feet tall and about 5 feet in diameter. I asked him what that was for, and he said he was going to carve “The Virgin Maria” out of it. Would love to see that when it’s done. After the shopping we retired to the condo for Jerry and I to watch the Presidential debate, and the girls were off to the Apache Casino for more fun.

This morning while working on this writing had a nice discussion with the General Manager of the Crowne Point Condos, which is where we are staying. We had all agreed that compared to other time-shares we had stayed in, this place was not in the top echelon. The gentleman told as of how he and his wife had bailed on big careers and a life in California to take over management of this resort. He said that the previous management either didn’t spend their maint. money or didn’t spend it wisely. The place has gotten way behind on capital repairs and upkeep. We had noted that a lot of work was in progress or already done. He told us they had an ambitious plan to redo a lot of the interiors of the units. We commented to him that the staff had all been very friendly and helpful. We encouraged him to keep after his improvements.
More later,
Wes