I wanted to shake up my life and go sailing (or learn on the job, so-to-speak) so headed to Florida to crew on a catamaran. This is about how it went or, rather, didn't - and my life since. Hopefully it will lead to a catamaran on the clear aqua blue waters of the Caribbean Sea, watching the sunset, a coconut rum and coke in hand. You must START AT THE BEGINNING of the blog, April 2009, to get the whole story...

Friday, May 27, 2011


It cost $7 to drive literally 3 minutes to the St. Thomas airport. My hotel was as close as you could get to the terminal without being on a runway so I was shocked at the cost seeing how it was only $10 from the airport to the ferry when I arrived, and only $3 from the ferry to Neptune's Treasure on Anegada.

I hate clearing security. And on this trip I have attempted to get liquids through in my carry on luggage that I didn't put in the zip lock bag as it was already full. And I can report to you that I got them through without detection EVERY SINGLE TIME. We're talking 5 times through security because I went through from YVR to Yuma, from Yuma to Los Angeles and three freaking times on the way home - that's right, for all three connections on the way back I had to go through security again. Of course I had to clear security in St. Thomas, then on my first stop in Miami the arrival terminal and the departure terminal for the next flight were not joined behind security so I had to exit into the general population area and cross back. In Toronto, I had to clear Canadian customs so had to leave the secure area to do that and then, go back. What a pain in the rear. Anyway, way to go TSA. You didn't see the two small tubes of moisturizer on the way down to the islands nor the two small (a couple of oz's) bottles of Pussers Rum on the way home. Good thing I wasn't planning on blowing up the plane with either of them.

When the plane banked, this island came into view. I have no idea which island it is but it was right out of the St.Thomas airport. I love the look of it.

Another lovely little island. Kind of bat shaped.

This amazing stretch of water went on for miles. I remember my friends from Zero to Cruising saying that they sailed for a long time in water that wasn't more than 12 feet deep and clear as a pool to the bottom. I have a feeling this might be it.

When I arrived at the Miami airport I was hungry and planned to get a meal but, as usual for me, wanted to find my gate first and then buy something at one of the great little restaurants that are all over the place behind the security gates. Well, I guess they don't think much of those of us traveling to Canada at that airport because the departure terminal for West Jet was way down several mile-long corridors to who knows where, and when I got there it looked like the waiting room for welfare and not a shop, restaurant, or even news stand in sight. Nothing. I had to walk for another quarter mile to find a Burger King and a Pizza Hut. No nice restaurants like the part I walked through when I landed. I ended up buying a bag of cinnamon pretzel chips at a news stand. Not exactly lunch

Ugly gate at Miami airport.

Ugly, ugly, UGLY.

When the agent was about to start boarding, she came on the intercom and said, "I have some good news and bad news." There was a collective groan from everyone waiting. "The good news is you will be flying on a brand new 737 with only 30 hours on it so far." Now I don't know how everyone else felt, but this was not exactly good news in my books. As far as I am concerned, that's not long enough to make sure everything is in good working order and it's not going to fall out of the sky. So I was not looking forward to the bad news. Turns out that was just that the plane was so new, there were no TV's installed on it yet.

The plane was so new it smelled like new car. Or new plane, rather.

Spotless new carpet.

Usually the plane wing and engine is crusted in dirt and always looks to me like it's about to fall apart. You could eat dinner off of this one.

Bye-bye, Miami. I wish I could have stayed a bit because I think you're great.

One real concern I have when flying is my swelling feet. By the time I reach my destination my feet look like two loaves of bread. So I was thrilled to find out that I had a whole row of seats to myself on my flight from Toronto to Vancouver and could put my feet up the entire way. Consequently my feel were barely swollen by the time I got home. Seeing how it took two weeks for my feet to go down after arriving in the BVI, I was really thankful for this.

When I was planning my trip to the BVI I was worried about cockroaches and spiders in my room so I bought sticky pads to put on the floors to trap any that strolled by. But I couldn't fit the ones that were shaped like a small box in my luggage. I had opened one up at home and decided to put it down on the floor by my bed to trap anything that might stroll by at home while I was gone. I am very happy to report I didn't need them in the BVI - I never saw a single spider except for a couple in webs in the vegetation, and I never saw a single cockroach at all. But when I got home.....

This thing is freaking HUGE!! Or was before it curled up and died. I hate having a basement room.

I have made a little arrangement to remember my time in the BVI with things I found on the beach along with a card I loved, a Christmas ornament I got on Anegada, and a magazine that captures the color of the water. I will try hard not to worship at this little shrine to my wonderful month in the BVI.

Thursday, May 26, 2011


I am all packed and ready to go. I have left all of my liquids and gels that I bought on my first day here (except for the OFF and the bug killer spray) along with a Prairie Dance Club CD and a tip, in my room for the housekeeper. I don't know if she will want all of it but it's there if she does.

I have lots of time before I have to catch the 2:30 ferry to St. Thomas and I want to walk the beach one last time. I cross the road between the building with my room in it to the restaurant and through the outdoor patio area down the stone steps to the beach. On the right I walk down as far as I can until I get to all rocks - this is just a few feet away from the backside of The Bomba Shack. Then I turn around and walk all the way to the other end where there are more rocks.

When I was swimming a couple of days ago, a fellow walked from this end of the beach to where I was right in front of Sebastians and called out to me "Are you Sandra?" "Yes I am." I called back, mystified as to how he knew my name. I got out of the water and he introduced himself as the fellow who ran the Facebook page BVI Network and whose picture I had commented on just an hour or so ago. It was one he had taken of the waves coming in on the sand and I had asked where it was taken and he had replied that it was here, on Apple Bay. So then I replied to that saying I was on Apple Bay at Sebastian's right this moment. So as he had walked by, on his way to work, he saw me and recognized me. We chatted for a while about his work and how long he'd lived on Tortola - 18 years. He makes his living as a web designer and lives at the end of the beach that I have now walked to.

I have noticed, while at this particular beach, how the waves come in in sets. There will be a few small ones and then they will get bigger until about the fourth or fifth one is really big and then it goes back to the smaller ones again. I guess this is what my daughter is talking about when, as a surfer, she talks about sets of waves. It's something I had never noticed before. So I wait for the largest one to hit so I can get a picture of it hitting the big rock that is on the sand here.

The fellow was telling me that, at this time of year, the surf brings in the beach - that is, it dumps so much sand on the rocks that they are completely covered, even this big one, and it goes partway up the retaining wall in front of the houses. That's amazing to me. I had no idea that a beach could come and go like that. He said that, all it takes is a northern wind and the beach will be gone in two days.

At 11:30 I check out and pay my restaurant tab and then get in my car and drive away from Sebastian's for the last time, over the killer hill for the last time.

I drive to Soper's Hole to have lunch at Pussers and take a table right on the water. I order the Shepherd's Pie. When it comes, it's smothered in melted cheese, which I haven't ever done with Shepherd's Pie - or seen done before this, and the meat and gravy is way too salty. So I just pick at it and leave most of it.

I can see that the people who own that gorgeous sailboat that I saw the last time I was down here have arrived from Great Britain and are getting her ready to take her out.

After lunch I pop into one of the gift stores here to buy a couple of presents for people back home and then head out to return the car to Jerry's. After a short wait there for another customer who also needs a ride into Road Town, we all climb into a nice SUV and a very pleasant woman drives me to the ferry.

When I get to the ticket booth for the Road Town Fast Ferry to get a customs form - I already have my return ticket as I purchased a round-trip, the agent tells me that the 2:30 ferry has been canceled. Before I can panic she says that a different ferry service will take me instead, 15 minutes later at 2:45. Phew. So I go to the next window, Speedy's Ferry Service, and sign in for that ferry.

When I get on board, the air is still and stuffy. We get underway and there isn't a lot of air movement where I have chosen to sit but I notice that the big loading doors on either side, just behind me, are open. So I stand in the doorway and not only is the breeze fabulous but so is the view. With the wind whipping my hair about, it reminds me of my boating days. I stand in the doorway on one side, and then later the other, for the entire hour and a half trip.

Bye bye, Tortola!

Loving this!

Oh yes! I'd like to live right there, please.

I didn't realize we'd be stopping in Soper's Hole for more passengers - I had lunch there just a couple of hours ago.

The Jolly Roger, a famed restaurant that is known for its Jerk Prime Rib, a meal I would have loved to try but the teeth just aren't up to it yet.

And just on the other side of the Jolly Roger's parking lot, the family plot. You see that a lot on these islands, people bury their families in the front yard.

An island we passed on the way to St. Thomas. If anyone recognizes it and knows what island it is, please leave a comment letting me know as I have no idea but would like to know.

We finally arrive on St. Thomas and a 15 passenger van/taxi takes four of us at once. We're all headed in the same general direction. Two are dropped off at a business. The fellow left with me wants to go to the airport and when we pull off the main road at the turn off for the airport I figure I am going to be the last one dropped off. To my surprise, my hotel - The Best Western Carib Resort - is right at the entrance to the airport and so I am the next one dropped off. I knew it was close to the airport but I had no idea it was this close.

I get checked in and before I go to my room I sit down at the business center computer to print out my boarding passes for tomorrow. That done, I go find my room which is on the first floor and off of an interior hallway, which I really like. The Best Western I stayed at in Yuma had the doors off of an outdoor walkway and I never feel as safe in that situation. There's a lot of crime on St. Thomas so this is great.

All of the rooms at this hotel have been recently renovated and when I get inside my room, I am really impressed by how nice it is. Especially the bathroom which has a lovely stone tiled shower with a huge rain shower head.

As soon as my stuff is in my room, I head back outside and down to the pool and restaurant area. Apparently the restaurant is Mexican and quite good.

There are several ancient Cannons on the property; these are on the stairs leading down to the pool and beach area.

The Mexican restaurant to the left of the stairs.

And the pool to the right.

And further to the right, the beach area.

I test the waters of the pool and it's a lovely temperature and I am tempted to go back to my room and change into a bathing suit. Instead I head to the restaurant and order a Taco Salad and a virgin Margarita for dinner. It's delicious.

After dinner I head back to my room to repack my bags. My 'purse', which is actually a beach bag, is far too heavy and so I need to get more of the contents into my pretty-full wheeled carry-on bag. I manage to lighten the load considerably and still get the suitcase zipped up but I decide to use the beach bag I bought for the groceries in Tortola (and have been using for taking my stuff to the beach every day) as my purse and to leave the woven grass bag behind - which I love and was a gift from a friend but it has started to fall apart on this trip - just barely started falling apart so it's still got a lot of use in it, but it's not holding what I need it to very well. In the morning I drop the 2 bug sprays into it along with my toothpaste and some moisturizing cream and hope that the maid or someone can make use of it all. Meanwhile, I take a shower under that decadent shower head and then make it an early night as I have to be up at the crack of dawn to catch my 9:15 flight.

Wednesday, May 25, 2011


I arrived at the West End ferry dock at 9:30 to catch the 10:00 ferry to Jost Van Dyke. When I was here two years ago, we stopped at this island on our day sail but only had about an hour and a half there. It was the most beautiful beach I had been to on that trip and so was very loathe to leave. I am excited to be going back!

Just as the boat arrives, two sisters arrive that were at Cane Garden Bay the last time I was there. They are about my age or older and really friendly so I am happy to see them here. We chat about where we're from and where they've traveled (they are beach people so have been to most all of the beautiful beaches in the world) and what they do for a living. While we are waiting, a nice looking island fellow shows up and flashes me a big smile. I smile back and he asks how I am and I say I am great.

We all board the ferry and, although there's seating outside on the back deck, the whole deck is full of cargo; mostly beer and food for the restaurant bars over on the island so we all have to sit inside the stuffy passenger area. Fortunately, the windows are open and once we get underway there is a bit of a breeze.

The island fellow from the dock popped onto the boat so I thought he was traveling with us but I look out of my window and there he is on his own boat!

When we arrive on JVD, he is there on the dock waiting for us. The two sisters and I are talking about where we want to go first - they decide they want to walk over the hill to the Soggy Dollar Bar. I want to go to Foxy's first and the fellow tells me he is Foxy's son and he will drive me there if I like. I tell him I met one of his brothers on Anegada and as we try to figure out which brother it was - as I am useless at names - we get in his battered little Suzuki jeep and head over to the bar. On the way I find out his name is Dean and he shows me where Foxy lives and where he lives and stops to chat to a cousin who is working on a boat.

We pull up to Foxy's bar and I am so happy to finally see the place as we did not get here on our last visit. I have seen lots of pictures though. I ask Dean if his dad is there and he says he is but that he's old now and not always in the mood to visit with the tourists. But as I walk past an open doorway near the gift shop, an older man comes out and smiles at me. "Hi!" I say, "My name's Sandy." I shake his hand and he tells me his name is George. So it's not Foxy. Then some people from a dinghy that just docked walk up and say, "FOXY!!!! SO good to SEE you again, man!" and hug George. I look at them, mouth agape and Foxy laughs at me. "You scoundrel," I say, "you had me completely fooled." He laughs again. I watch and listen as the boaters chat with him and then have their pictures taken with Foxy. So I ask if they'll take mine and they do. Then Foxy sits on a log stump and starts making remarks about Americans being so politically correct and I say I am Canadian. He then launches into a rap/poem about Vancouver that is hilarious. He then does one about Toronto. The guy is amazing. He is in his 70's and yet he can remember all of this... but then he wrote it so I guess that is why. (I have come to realize since writing this that he makes these raps/songs up on the fly... amazing!!)

Foxy regaling us.

Eventually I make my way into the huge gift shop with the best selection of clothing I have seen so far. They even have women's T-shirts with a deep V neckline (which I love) that has Foxy designs on them. I buy one. Then I go sit at the bar and order a Carib beer. I don't like beer much but I grew to like Corona when I was in Mexico (it was the only thing to drink at the beach restaurant) and I am dying of heat after being in the stuffy gift shop for so long and need something refreshing. As I sit at the bar, Dean walks up and sits with me. We have an interesting conversation about how he can read people's auras and he read mine as soon as he met me. I ask him what he saw and he says 'a good heart, and some other things'. I ask what 'other things' and he says, not now - maybe later. The aura talk started by him guessing my exact age, which no one ever does; most people think I am a lot younger than I am so it shocks me when he is exactly right. He makes me guess his age and I am way off. I thought he was about 32 but it turns out he's 46. He also tells me that he is single and a musician turned DJ.

Foxy's Bar.

He asks if I want to go see the beach and I think he means the one out front so say yes, but then he walks away from that beach and to the car. We get in and he drives over the hill to where Ivan's Stress Free Bar and Campground is. When we get to the beach, I can't believe how gorgeous it is. The color of the water here is unmatched in the rest of the BVI that I have seen. And it's so clear you can see the bottom no matter how deep it is, and it's all sand. We get in the water and just float about for over an hour. It's pure heaven. We meet another woman in the water who is from one of the charter boats. She's really friendly and when we get out of the water to go sit on the beach, we join her friends and have some good laughs. What a fun bunch!!

Beautiful water.

Fun bunch!

Dean and I take a walk farther down the beach and go for a swim again. As we float he tells me what else he saw in my 'aura'. One thing he says is that I have had a very stressful life. That's pretty accurate. He also tells me that I haven't had anyone special in my life for a long time and he's right about that as well.

After about another hour in the water we walk back down to Ivan's and gather our stuff to head over to the Soggy Dollar beach. As we leave, Dean introduces me to Ivan. He's so cute! He's obviously old by the way he moves and is eating a sandwich so slow and carefully, but his face is unlined and looks so young. It's amazing how young all of the islanders look - it must be this languid, stress-free life. How I envy them.

We drive over to the Soggy Dollar and wow! it's so crowded today. There's a webcam on top of the bar roof that has live pictures and I visit it almost every day when I am at home and I don't think I have seen it this busy this time of year. (And, by the way, I am really wishing someone I knew was watching the cam and could take a screen shot of me on it. That would be so cool!) Dean needs to go see his brother who has a bar just behind Soggy Dollar up the road, and so he heads off and I go to the beach. It's just as I remember it... the water is the most amazing shade of blue/green and warm! The sand is softer than any other island I have been to. It's heaven. I go in for a swim and see the women we were hanging out with at Ivan's so we stand around in the water and chat some more and I get to meet more of her friends from another boat that they are sort of traveling with. Everyone is so friendly that it has made this whole experience so much richer for me. I am happier than I can ever remember being - and so relaxed it's ridiculous. I have noticed that I even walk like an islander now with that slow, unhurried sway.

White Bay in front of The Soggy Dollar.

White Bay in front of The Soggy Dollar.

A group of teen girls and their mom's try to get back to their boat without getting the merchandise they bought at the gift shop wet. Funny to watch!

The Soggy Dollar Bar.

It seems way too soon when Dean comes back and says we should think about heading off soon if I want to make the ferry. He had offered to drive me back in his own boat after the party at Foxy's tonight, which he is DJ-ing, and at first I accepted the offer as I knew I wouldn't want to leave at 4:30 like I am now. But then I thought about the trip back on the water in a small power boat in the dark and it scared me. Also, Dean has been making overtures to me that, quite frankly are not unwelcome and - had this been the first day of my stay in the islands instead of my last - I would have returned. But there's nowhere this can go now and I don't want to encourage him. So, after a quick trip into the gift shop where I buy a cute tank top, we climb into his jeep and head back over the mountain to the ferry dock. On the way he takes a detour over a hill on a path that isn't more than two rocky ruts with high grass in the middle and scrub and cacti on either side. He wants to to show me the best view on the island. But, unfortunately, when we get up there, the trees have grown higher since his last visit and obscured the view. There's also a cell tower here and he tells me he wanted to buy this property to build his house on but these guys got it first.

Back at the ferry dock, we say our goodbyes and I thank him for a wonderful day. He drives off and as I walk to the dock I see the two sisters, who I haven't seen since we arrived. Turns out they took the opposite tour of the island from us and so we just missed each other.

I had a fantastic day on the island and I can't think of a better way to have spent my last day here. If I ever come back, I am staying on Jost Van Dyke for half of my trip as it really is paradise.

Leaving. (this is not Jost Van Dyke, just an island on the way)

I just found out from a friend that I am on the front page of the Vancouver Sun today!!!!! UPDATE: The article is gone from The Sun page but it has been reprinted HERE.

Tuesday, May 24, 2011


There are a few things in life that I can't stand:

People who spit where others have to walk.
People who spit when there are people right there watching (it makes me feel like throwing up - seriously, I have to fight down the bile sometimes).
A shower that keeps changing temperature.
A dog that barks incessantly for no reason.
People who slam doors when others are trying to sleep (or make other noise that isn't necessary).

But I think the one that I hate the most, so much that it makes me livid, is BEING STOOD UP.

I drove 45 minutes, from my hotel, in to Road Town over a hill that makes me nervous and roads I don't much enjoy driving due to other lousy drivers to meet a woman I met on the beach a few days ago. She had already stood me up once when I had offered to drive her to Long Bay to spend the day together at the pool there; she was supposed to arrive at 11:00 and I waited until 11:45 before finding out she wasn't coming (via a comment on here).

We arranged to meet at a place called The Watering Hole, which I had never been to and had no idea where it was. I looked it up on line and then on a map. There are no addresses here, just vague area's. This one said it was on Wickham Quay I. There's a lot of stuff on Wickham Quay I!! And so I drove around for about 10 minutes trying to find the darn place and had to pull over and ask someone. When I arrived, finally, it was 11:00 on the nose. She said she would be there from 10:30-11:00. To say I wasn't happy when I looked around and she wasn't there would be an understatement of huge proportions. I was truly angry. It took me so long to get there, in blazing heat. I drove around and around on roads I was completely unfamiliar with, which I hate doing - especially here where one is on the other side of the road and often on roads that has room for only one car so someone has to back up. I bought a drink and sat and waited for half an hour just in case she was late. She wasn't. I just don't understand why, when arranging to meet someone, you wouldn't wait an extra 10 or even 30 minutes just to make sure they're not running late. And especially when the person is in an unfamiliar country, for crying out loud. I honestly can't recall when I was so angry. I spent the drive back to my hotel trying to calm myself down so that the entire day was not ruined.

I went back to my beach chair, that I left at precisely 9:45 to go get her, on Apple Bay and enjoyed the sunshine again. That worked on my boiling blood. I probably wouldn't have been anywhere near as angry if it wasn't the second time she'd stood me up. I think I was as angry at myself for allowing her to do it to me a second time as I was at her for doing it.

After a couple of hours on Apple Bay, I drove up to Long Bay to use the pool for a bit and stopped into the office to ask for Carlotta. She's the event planner at Long Bay resort and did a stellar job of Ashleigh and Rob's reception. She was there and remembered me and the bridal couple. It was lovely to see her and we chatted for 15 minutes or so before I had to let her get back to work.

By the end of the afternoon, the sun and pace of this place had worked it's magic and my blood was no longer at the boiling point. But I still say that to stand someone up twice in a few days is beyond rude.

My View from Little Apple Bay - right in front of Sebastian's.

My View from Little Apple Bay - right in front of Sebastian's - tomorrow I plan to be on that island in the distance.

Monday, May 23, 2011


The day dawns sunny with puffy clouds high in the sky. I have decided to go back to Sopers Hole to Serendipity Spa and have a body scrub, rain or sun. I am still peeling and it looks disgusting. They said that the treatment would get rid of all of the dead skin and I don't want to go home looking like this.

When I get there, the fellow I spoke to yesterday isn't there, it's two women. They are from India and they don't speak English very well consequently I can't make them understand what I want. I have decided to have the package that includes a massage and facial along with the scrub. They call their boss, the guy from yesterday, and I tell him what I want. I hand the phone to one of the women and he translates.

The room for the massage etc. is right off of the reception area, divided by just a curtain. And the curtain at the moment has enough of a space between the two panels that I can see inside. I don't like that much - I like privacy.

I go in and get ready and she starts with the body scrub. It feels and smells great. After about 45 minutes of scrubbing she tells me to get in the shower and wash it all off. I am kind of horrified when I see the shower. It's tiny, it's old, and the door is a DOOR - like a wooden door so no light gets in except for a small window in it. I ask if there's a light but there's not. So I leave the door open a bit while I shower off. This is certainly no luxury spa, but their prices hardly reflect that. Someone had suggested, when I asked on TTOL what to do in the rain, to go to the spa on Peter Island. I wonder what that place is like.

I get back on the table for the massage part and it feels great. 45 minutes later, she says she is done. I ask about the facial. She looks confused. "Facial? You want facial?" "Yes, I asked for the package." "Package? You want package?" Oh dear. She calls her boss. I ask, "What did I just have done?" "The body scrub." "That's it?" "Yes." So I decide to leave it at that as it seemed to include the massage and is almost $100 less than the package, meaning the package wasn't really all that good of a deal at all.

I leave there well oiled, my hair as well as she did a scalp massage with oil, so I go straight back to my hotel to wash my hair.

It's still a nice day out and I decided to go to Cane Garden Bay for one more visit. I like that beach as the water is really clear and the bottom all sand. And on Sunday's The Elm has a famed bar-b-que and live entertainment from a band called The Elm Tones that I have read about on TTOL and it's supposed to be very good.

It starts to rain as I am driving there.

When I pull into the parking lot behind all of the bars, the rain has died down to a drizzle so I head to the beach. All of the wind and rain from the previous day or so has fouled the water. It is just like Anegada - no longer crystal clear and clean. I can't see the bottom at all. Bummer! And I braved that horrible hill to get here!

I go up to Myette's bar and see one of the couples I met from the last time I was here. We sit at the bar and chat for an hour or so until the sun comes back out then I head to the beach for some rays. I find a spot where the water is actually still quite clear and walk in but right away the white angel fish start bumping my legs again. Did I mention that from before? The same fish that followed me around Loblolly Bay are here but these ones bump into my legs and arms and nibble at me. It doesn't hurt but it freaks me out. So, today, I never get in above my thighs before I have to turn and dash out as fast as I can.

I decide not to wait for the bar-b-que to start as it's 4:30 and it doesn't get going until 6:30 and the music at 7:00. It's that darned road that I hate driving, especially at night. It's stressing me out thinking about it and it doesn't help that I can clearly see the cut in the trees for the road down into the bay from the beach and I keep looking at how high it is where it starts and how steep it is. As I really enjoyed the ribs at Myette's the other day I decide to order them again and then go home.

Cane Garden Bay.

Cane Garden Bay.

As I am just finishing up, the very handsome bar tender, who has the day off today, walks in from the beach and goes behind the bar to make himself a drink. He is talking with the other bartender and I can hear a very British accent that I didn't notice when I was here a few days ago (because he hardly spoke). I ask him where he is from and he says 'London, born and bred." He's only been here for 14 months. I ask him what brought him here and he tells me he was writing a novel set in the Caribbean and wanted to be here to learn more about the people and the culture. He's ready to leave though, he doesn't like the smallness of island life or the work he is doing - bar tending. His dream is to live in New York and be a published author - he's just finished his novel. He gives me his web site address and I promise him I will go have a look at it. I give him my card and tell him if he ever writes a script, email it to me.

Stephen, the handsome bartender.

It's dark by the time I leave so I could have stayed for the other bar-b-que after all, which I can hear is in full swing just down the beach. But I am okay with it and eager to get the drive over with. To be honest, the worst part of the drive going back is meeting another car coming at you on a curve as you head down the hill, and as long as that doesn't happen it's not as bad as going up - that's just awful, cars or no cars. And, happily, I don't come across any cars on the curves. I so wish there was a way for me to accurately convey what it's like going up hill, coming to one of those hairpin curves when you're on the inside. The blacktop is actually vertical right in the elbow of the curve. I wish I could stop to take a photo of it to show you but there's NO WAY one can stop on those hills... you'd never get going again. I've heard stories of people rolling back because they were going too slow. Terrifying.

I get back in time to watch the end of Celebrity Apprentice on the TV instead of having to download it like I have done for every other episode. John Rich won! YAY!!!
All photographs are mine and not to be copied without express permission from me (click on them to see the large version).
Some names have been changed to protect my butt.

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