I LOVE FLIP FLOPS

In the ongoing attempt to make my mountain home feel more like a beach cottage, I made a summery wreath to hang on the gate at the entrance to my place.

I have since trimmed the big gerbera daisies down to the size of the other ones and it looks much better. I love the splash of colour it gives to an otherwise fairly monochromatic (green) scene.

I NEED YOUR FEEDBACK

I just returned from a month in the Dominican Republic.  It was a very interesting trip, not what I had anticipated.

I want to blog about it in the upcoming days, but as anyone who blogs knows, it is very time consuming.  I am wondering if it is worth the time as I am not sure that I have enough interest or readership to devote the hours that it will require.

So I am asking you all.... are you interested in how the trip went and the things I learned along the way (I also made a very big purchase that I would be detailing)?

Know that your replies will definitely be what motivates me to continue with this blog because, really, if I don't blog this trip - I won't be blogging future ones either and so this will most likely end here.

Thanks to you all!!!  I look forward to hearing from you.

MY BEACHY HIDEAWAY IN THE RAINFOREST

Being that I am an admitted Beach Bum and being that I prefer the white sands of the Caribbean, I have restyled my little abode from a rather dark Mexican Hacienda look to a breezy Caribbean beach cottage look.  Because I can't be in the Caribbean at a fabulous beach ALL of the time, I wanted to bring the beach to me.

There are a few projects yet to be done, and I think I will always have to live with the terracotta tile floors (unless you can lay wood floors overtop, but there are pesky accent tiles here and there that stick up above the others so I foresee an issue) but for the most part, it's all done.

Here are the before pics:

Looking towards the entrance and kitchen area.

Looking to living area from entrance/kitchen.  

Note the windows on the far wall.

The bed in the middle that hangs from the ceiling.

The curtains behind the bed have no window.

Fireplace and TV cabinet.

Yes it is a studio suite.  I love it as I feel snug as a bug here and it takes me no time at all to clean it.

Unfortunately, I never got a photo of the rest of the wall that the TV is on as it had the strangest adobe style open closet, only about three feet wide.  Also painted dark blue, same as the fireplace.

Now here it is today, with cabinets I designed and the landlord built, new windows, and a whole lot more! (Click on pictures to enlarge and see details)

Fireplace, white now with new tiled hearth - installed today.  

I used some shells and beach glass from the Caribbean in with smashed

travertine tiles to make a mosaic that looks like the beach with large

sand colored tiles in front to look like ... sand of course.

Note the nice new BIG windows.

Also note I haven't finished whitewashing the wood

of the couch - put my back out in the middle of doing it and haven't

had time to finish since my back got better. A new couch is in the future anyway.

New built-ins that I designed. On the far left is the

washer and dryer cupboard, then my closet, then a

shoe cubpoard, then a glass door nick-nack cupboard with

drawers underneath, then storage, then the TV with more

drawers.  LOVE THIS.  It has totally changed my life in this place.

The bed pre-headboard whitewash and pre BVI pic above.

Bed post-whitewash and pic.

And here are some details close up:

 

  

And yet, as beachy as indoors may be, there is NO denying it - I live in a rainforest. As you can see as soon as you step outside.

I love my little place.

I still need to take care of this though:

That's the bathroom vanity.  Ugh.  And the kitchen counters have the same tiles.  I need to change these... next year, hopefully.  I also want to hang a small crystal pendant light over the coffee table in place of the ugly iron-work chandelier that is there presently, but I haven't been able to find just the right one yet.

What do you think of my place?  Have you tried to bring the beach to your house?  If so, share how... I'd love to hear it.

BAGGAGE HANDLERS

It's videos like that which make me want to travel with carry-on only. I have done so in the past... once for a 5 week trip. I managed quite well with what I took, actually. But this time I want to check a bag with my snorkeling gear (doesn't all fit in carry on), my liquids (sun lotions, hair products, bug repellents, perfume etc), and the 8 rolls of McVites digestive cookies I am taking (don't ask). As well as some clothing... whatever won't fit in my carry-on.

Also, I recently purchased the most beautiful set of luggage I've ever laid my eyes on.

I mean, can you stand it?  I saw it from across the store at WINNERS when I was in Kelowna this summer helping my daughter paint her new condo.  I HAD to have them.  I didn't buy the big one because I tend to go overweight if packing a big bag and I am done...DONE... spending hundreds of dollars on an extra 10lbs of stuff, but I walked out of there with the other two and a huge...HUGE...smile on my face.

I didn't just buy new luggage because I couldn't resist the colour (although who could blame me if that was the reason?!)  in fact, the last time I dragged a heavy bag on two wheels through miles of airport, the stupid thing sometimes twisting off the wheels and wrenching my arm, I watched others blithely stroll by with their 'spinner' bags, upright, just gliding along beside them.  I determined then and there that I would have bags with FOUR wheels on my next trip. 

And now I will.

But I don't want that gorgeous finish to get scratched, dented or *gasp* cracked.  And if the baggage handlers treat it like the bags in above video, or pitch it down 20 feet or so to the tarmac below like in another video I saw, then my gorgeous bags might not survive (not to mention what would happen to the aforementioned biscuits packed inside!!).

So what to do?  

How about a little 'sucking up' to the baggage handlers?  Let them know that they are appreciated.  It couldn't hurt, right? 

This is what I came up with:

On both sides of the bag.

Let's hope it works and that I don't end up with something like this:

But get something more like this instead:

Well...without the 'HEAVY BAG' tag, and the poor spelling.

Here are some tips on how to get your bag safely to your destination:

1.

Buy a four-wheeled bag.

 (CHECK!!!!)

With a four-wheeled bag, the only time your luggage will be airborne is after takeoff.

"When we load a plane, we have to slide that bag along ... the cargo floor," Henry said.

"With four wheels, they can just roll that bag," he continued. "Now if it doesn't have the wheels, they'll throw it, kick it, toss it."

2.

Pack your items in a sturdy bag.

(Let's hope this gorgeous new bag is sturdy)

Make sure your bag won't crumble under pressure.

When shopping for luggage, look for bags made out of strong material. There are even bags available for purchase made out of the same material that the NFL uses for its shoulder pads.

"You should assume that this bag is going to be handled in the worst way," Henry said.

3.

Don't check in for your flight too early. (I am bad for this... part of my nervous traveler thing.)

Ironically, to ensure your bag's on-time arrival, don't check in too early.

"If you do it more than two hours early, they don't even have things set up for your flight yet," Cigelske said.

Your bag could get lost in the shuffle if it's set aside.

4.

Skip the curbside check-in.

(Never done this)

Even if you're rushing to catch your flight, avoid checking in at the curb.

"It does add one more layer to the process, more people to the equation," Cigelske said. "More hands, more things, means more things could go wrong."

Instead, head to the ticket counter, especially if you're past the cutoff time to check your bag in.

"You can ask the ticket-taker to have the baggage handlers come and make one more run," Cigelske said.

5.

Buy traveler's insurance.

(I have it through my Credit Card. I DID have it with the first insurance I bought for this trip but don't have that anymore!!!)

Airlines are only liable for $3,400 for loss, delay or damage to luggage. Some airlines don't even cover certain items, such as electronics or jewelry.

Travelers agree to this contract automatically when they purchase their flight ticket. Purchasing traveler's insurance can protect the contents of your bag in the event it is lost, stolen or damaged.

6.

Buy a bag with anti-theft technology.

(Ooops.  Gorgeous luggage has zippers)

Even if your bag is locked, a person can still get into your luggage by cutting the zipper open.

Luggage without zippers can help deter would-be thieves immediately, as people will be unable to easily use scissors or knives to cut it open.

7.

Invest in a tracking device.

(Hmmmm...tracking device huh?  I do always pack my info and itinerary inside, along with a list of everything the bag contains and a note saying I have a copy of the list with me)

Be sure to remove old routing stickers from your luggage. In case your bag goes astray, add a tag to the outside with your information, and pack an itinerary inside.

If your bag does indeed get lost, it might help if you have a tracking device. Certain devices can message you the location of your bag once it's landed.

8.

Use a carry-on bag.

(Right.  See above.)

It's recommended not checking any bags.

And if you are forced to check your carry-on at the boarding gate, remember to remove your valuables before handing it over.

IS IT JUST ME... OR DO YOU TOO FIND INCOMPETENCE EVERYWHERE?

I decided I was fed up with the back and forth phone calls about the missing travel insurance policy and the "we can't refund your money until we find the policy" nonsense.  SO ... I did what worked so well for me once before.

My friend, when reading the story (linked to in above paragraph) of how I got AA to find my daughter's lost luggage PRONTO, commented that I sure was one "can-do broad".  I liked that.  I decided it was time to bring out the "can-do broad" in me once again.

I start searching online for the name of someone in authority in either sales or customer relations at Allianz in the Ontario office.  It takes a long time, like well over an hour.  It is information that is really buried  but I end up finding a woman on Linked In who is the head of Customer Service in Ontario.  I can't see any contact information for her as she is not connected to me in any way and there is only a first name and a last initial.  So I Google her name with the initial and ALLIANZ, and I find a link back to Linked In with her whole name.  I still can't see any contact info but... the personal email of the agent I have been talking to was his first name - dot - his last name and then @alianz-assistance.ca  I had seen online another person's email at the company and it was his first and last name with the same ending so I start an email to her and type in her name etc and hope it works. I detail everything that has occurred to this point, ask her to intervene for a resolution, and hit send.  Heading off to bed (at close to 4am) I hope I wake to good news.

I do... it worked!!!! And she has replied to say she has some people looking into it. Actually what I wake to is a phone call from Shawn, the agent, to say that they are going to refund me the money.  THEN I go check my email and see she wrote to me three hours ago (time difference) to say that she has some people looking into it.  WOW.  So it worked.  Go to the top and you get speedy results.  I am ecstatic.

That done, it is now time to select some seats with more leg room on the longer legs of my flights to and from the Dominican Republic.  I pull up my flight itinerary on American Airlines website and... hellooo... what is this now?  My flights home have changed.  Now instead of Miami to LA then home, I fly from Miami to Dallas.  Excuse me?  Especially seeing how this means I fly out of Miami two hours earlier than the previous plan, did no one think this might be information important for me to have?

So I call AA.  The woman on the other end tells me that it is the responsibility of the sales company - in this case Flight Hub - to let me know.  AA sends an alert of changes to the company I bought tickets from and they then are to contact me and alert me.  I know she is telling me the truth because that is how it has always worked.  That is how it worked on the flights I had to cancel already (because the changes did not work for me).  As it happens, these changes I can live with - I no longer have a long lay over waiting for the flight to Vancouver so I am getting in four hours earlier.  But that is not the point.   She is rather surprised that I have not received notification and so takes all my information so that if there are any more changes, they can contact me directly.

I then call Flight Hub, ready to tear a strip off of them as the changes were made over TWO WEEKS ago.  Again, had I not wanted to upgrade my seats, I would have had NO idea that this had occurred.

The woman on the other end tells me they never got the alert from AA, thus they had no idea the flights had changed.

Sigh.  Typical blame game... NO ONE is responsible.  Right.

Whatever.  I now have my new itinerary printed out.  I will be checking AA's site daily to see if there are any more changes as I don't trust anyone now.

Yesterday I purchased additional travel insurance through my union's provider to pad out what I already had with them.

I don't have trip cancellation insurance now, which I thought I had before.  I also don't have baggage loss insurance... just what I get with the credit card for charging the trip with them.

It is astounding to me how much incompetence there is everywhere.  Astounding.

PRE-TRIP TROUBLES

So in my last post, I wasn't quite forthcoming about how I ended up choosing Sosua as the destination for my upcoming trip to the Dominican Republic.  Yes I had looked at property there online and yes, I wanted to make it part of my trip.  But my initial searches for accommodation on Airbnb had lead me to a small enclave to the west of Puerto Plata named Costambar.  From the descriptions I first read it sounded very pleasant; a small gated community of mostly expats from Canada with a lovely beach, a few restaurants and a couple of small grocery shops.  Perfect.

I selected a nice little apartment in a complex with a pool and proceeded to book it for the month long stay at $780 US.  Not bad at all.  The furniture in the place was a little heavy and dark, but I liked the look of the pool and it was a very short walk of about 50 yards to the beach.

Then, as time permitted, between setups on my show, I started to research Costambar a little more.  I began to discover that it was rather isolated, was near a big power processing plant, had unpaved roads that turned to mud in the rain, and was not advised to walk alone at night even a short distance from the restaurants to the apartment.  I really did not like the sounds of this.

I made some enquiries on a Trip Advisor forum as to if it was a good place for a single woman to stay and got some assurance that I 'should' be alright.  One fellow replied that I must take a few trips to Sosua as the main street was closed to traffic each evening to allow the restaurants to put tables and chairs out on the street for outdoor dining with live music.  It sounded lovely and festive.  As I researched things to do and excursions from Costambar, I learned that there were sailing trips to what was called a gorgeous beach perfect for snorkeling in Sosua.  I began to wonder why I wasn't staying there instead.

Once you book what is considered a 'long stay' at an Airbnb location (a month or more) there are no refunds offered with the site.  It is only at the graciousness of the host that a refund may be obtained. I found the place I wanted to stay in Sosua and checked with the host for dates and if she would hold it for a few days while I sorted out my reservation in Costambar.  She agreed to do that and then I contacted the first host and, much to my relief, she readily issued me a refund.

Once I booked my room in Sosua, I then turned my research efforts in that direction.  It didn't take long for me to start to freak out a little bit and wonder if I'd made a huge mistake.

Why you ask?

Because Sosua is renowned for it's sex trade business.  That's right, it is the red light district for all of the Dominican Republic!!  Men from all over North America travel there just for the young women they can buy.  I was horrified.  Horrified.  What had I done?!?

More panicked research uncovered a YouTube video from a guy called Cuba Dave who has sort of a internet travel show on that site for men travelling for sex.  In this video, he was advising men to stay away from Sosua as it was no longer the playground it once had been. A little more research revealed that apparently the city fathers had decided they'd had enough of this rather appalling reputation and were going to clean up their town. So they closed all of the brothels and strip joints, closed in the clubs (no windows, no outdoor seating) and cracked down on the street girls.  They began the task of encouraging a more family friendly, couple friendly environment.

Somewhat reassured, I decided to keep things as they were and hopefully all would be good.  We shall see I guess.

About three weeks after I booked my flights, I received notification from Ticket Pilot that my reservations had been changed and when I took a look at how, the changes were unacceptable to me. I called them and said I wanted to cancel.  They contacted the airline, United, and in a three way call it was explained that because the new flights changed arrival to a destination by more than two hours, I could cancel without penalty.  I had just upgraded the seats a few days prior but was assured that I would be reimbursed for the cost of that at the same time.  When I later checked my credit card, I was refunded the cost of the flights but not the upgrades.  Another call to the airline rectified this and the refund showed up a few days later.

I booked new flights with American Airlines through Flight Hub.  I was pleased to no longer be connecting through Newark as weather conditions there in winter had me somewhat concerned about possible delayed or cancelled flights.  Now I was connecting through Los Angeles and, back to two connections instead of just one, Miami - on both the trip there and the trip back.  I had a 14 hour overnight wait for my flight out of Miami on the trip home so decided I would go to South Beach and get a hotel for the night.  I had spent only an hour or so there on my way through from Tarpon Springs to Key Largo back in '09 and loved it so the idea of an evening there was very welcome.  I'd look for a hotel once the show was over and I had some time to think.  Also, to get flights I wanted, my trip was now extended by two days.

Having flights confirmed, a place to stay, and trip insurance paid for at the time I booked the first flights there was nothing much more to do until the show wrapped and I had some time to devote to the rest of the planning.  I would need to contact the insurance provider to extend my coverage the two extra days and I needed to look at upgrading my seats on the long flights. But that could be done once I had more time.

Now that the show is wrapped, and my two grand babies have arrived (did I fail to mention that my son and his wife and my daughter and her husband were both expecting boys within days of each other?!) I finally have that time.

I set about looking for a hotel in Miami first and after much searching, pretty much settle on a beachfront place at the exorbitant rate of $375 US for the night.  As I contemplate this, I suddenly have an epiphany.  I won't be arriving at the hotel until sometime around 7pm.  I will want to go for dinner and stroll Ocean Drive, maybe stop at a place or two for a drink and soak in the atmosphere.  My flight in the morning leaves at 7am so I'll have to be out of my hotel by 4am or so.  I'll probably be spending less than 4 hours in my hotel.  That will amount to $100 an hour!  Why spend the money on a hotel?  Why not stay up all night and enjoy what Miami Beach has to offer in the way of people watching etc as I am sure it is open all night long on a Friday night?!  What a great idea!  So that is what I decide I am going to do.

That all figured out, I call up the insurance agency - Allianz Global Assistance - to set about extending my coverage.  I have paperwork in hand with the policy number and when I give the agent on the line the information he astounds me by saying they have no such policy registered with that number.  He asks me to check my credit card statement to see if I have indeed been charged and if so, was it the Ontario office or a US office listed.  I know I have been charged and find the statement with no problem and it was the Ontario office.  He is stumped by this as he was sure it was because it was a US policy, which would have to be cancelled and a new Canadian one issued.  He clicks about on his keyboard a bit more and puts me on hold.  When he returns he tells me that he has informed his superior of this anomaly and that he will call me at 3pm my time to update me as to what they find. He asks me to send him a copy of my credit card statement with the charge and gives me an email address to send it to.

I hang up feeling very unsettled about this turn of events as I send off the PDF of my statement. What if I had never had to extend my insurance?  What if I had an issue while in the DR and needed medical attention and THEN it became apparent that there was no policy with that number?  I could only imagine the horror that would ensue for me in that scenario.  I decide that, should they find the policy or not, I am cancelling it.  I have medical insurance now with my union, thanks to the show that just wrapped, and I can get baggage and trip delay insurance through BCAA.  That is what I usually do and I wish I had done it this time but I foolishly decided to use the insurance presented at the time of buying the first set of tickets because I thought it would save me some hassle.

He never calls me back as promised.

So I call again the next day.  I of course get a different agent, I ask for Shawn and am told he is on another call but will call me as soon as he is off.  He calls a few minutes later.  I ask why he did not call me as he promised and he said because he never received the credit card statement.  I am aghast at this.  I assure him I did indeed send it and it did not bounce back, therefore he must have gotten it. And if he didn't, why on earth would he not call to alert me so I could resend it?  He replies that the email address he gave me is a general one that gets thousands of emails a day and so it must have been buried.  He then proceeds to give me his personal work email.  Exasperated, I ask why he didn't give me that one in the first place and he replies that he isn't allowed to give it out.  I respond with, 'well you're giving it to me now so that can't be true'.  He gets testy with me so I drop it and he never does explain why he wouldn't have called me to let me know about this.  I resend it to him while he is on the line to make sure he gets it this time and he does.  I tell him that now that he can see I did get charged, I want to cancel the policy and be refunded.  He proceeds to tell me that they can't refund me until they find the policy.  WHAT?!?  I am starting to lose it a little at this point and get rather testy myself.  I tell him that I have paid for something that I don't have, he has proof I have paid, and I want a refund.  Now.  He refuses, telling me that they can't do that until the policy is located.  He assures me it will be located and that there is lots of time before I leave to sort this out.  That they will refund me once they find the policy.  I then recall that the credit card I used is no longer active due to fraudulent activity and I will need to give him the new card number and tell him as much.  He tells me that I can have it refunded to any card I want and that he will call me for that information as soon as they have located the policy.

After hanging up, I don't like this at all but I have no more time to think about it as I am due at my daughters to help out for a few hours.

Next Installment: My 'can do broad' comes out, and more issues.

NEXT TRIP: DOMINICAN REPUBLIC

Travel fever has hit again and hit hard.

I worked on a tv series this past summer for almost 5 months.  It was a great show, and I loved that we were in one location the entire time, mostly indoors.  But what that meant was, I never saw much of the great summer we had this year in Vancouver as I was indoors in dark studios 14 hours a day (except for the 45 min lunch break where I'd step out into blinding sunshine and stumble my way to the catering truck with the rest of the crew who were shading their eyes and grasping for sunglasses). I don't even think I went to the beach once.  Maybe once right before the show started... I can't really recall.  The show itself was really challenging for me, being that it was 75% CGI (computer generated) so lots of green screen work.  Shooting on a green screen stage is very different from practical sets and so that challenge, coupled with a big cast and SO MUCH CONTINUITY to follow (injuries galore - along with bandages and braces, a couple of props that appeared in many scenes but kept changing either their ownership [a magic ring] or their physical appearance [a rope weapon that sometimes had a weight on the end and sometimes didn't]) wore me right out.  The physical fatigue of 14 hour work days plus a two hour commute was matched only by the mental fatigue of keeping up with and keeping track of all the many many MANY details over 13 episodes of a linear storyline.  Basically a 13 hour movie!!

SO.... in September I decided I deserved a trip somewhere warm when it was all over - to get the summer I never had and to get some much needed R&R.  I wanted to go for a month but preferred to keep it to $2000 or so on the flight and accommodations.  Quite the challenge.  After looking at Mexico, the BVI and the Bahamas and ruling all out because of the cost, I turned to the Dominican Republic - somewhere that has been on my radar due to wishful searches for real estate in the Caribbean and discovering that you can get a lovely condo there for a shockingly low price.  I had, during said searches, decided that a discovery trip to the DR should be in my future to see if it was somewhere I could live for 6 months of the year, come retirement time.  I suddenly recalled this in my search for a budget conscious trip, and VOILA...

The condos I had found that I liked were in a small town on the north coast called Sosua.  I knew nothing of the place but eventually decided that was where I would stay so I could take a look at the real estate.  A quick search online revealed that the town has a lovely beach, many restaurants, and is popular with North Americans for both travel and relocation.  It is a short 20 minute cab ride from Puerto Plata and the international airport there, which was perfect,  so I booked my flight(s).

Flights to the DR from Vancouver are surprisingly cheap.  All in I paid $760.  What I really liked was that it took just one connection (instead of the usual two to the Caribbean) flying from Vancouver to Newark to Puerto Plata.

I decided to try Airbnb for accommodations, as I have had friends who have gone that route and had nothing but good things to report, not the least being the great prices.  After some searching, I ended up settling on a lovely place right in the center of Sosua owned by a couple from Sweden.  They have three suites with separate entries off of a large porch overlooking the main street and, bonus!! - there is a bakery downstairs.  The couple live at the rear of the building.  There were glowing reviews from previous guests so I booked it at $730 for the month!  A bargain.

My room in Sosua

Looking towards the entrance to my room in Sosua

My lovely bathroom in Sosua

Next I will post on how so many things have gone awry with this trip already, and I haven't even left my house!

WHY I HATE SCHOOL

I am deviating from my usual posts about the Caribbean for today, I spent all morning writing the following piece for a book I am writing and then, incredibly, came across a video on a friends FaceBook page (you can view it at the end of this piece).  The serendipity of it caused me to want to use the piece as a blog post today - not what it is ultimately planned for, but here it is:

I come from a long line of school haters and I hated school as a kid. Not at first. I actually begged… BEGGED… my mother to let me go to school a full year before I was supposed to. I turned four in April and I had been reading for over a year. I devoured books, something I still do to this day.  I pleaded with my mother all summer to get me into school early until she finally went to the school authorities and suddenly we were off to the shops for my school uniform (this was in England where all kids wore uniforms), new shoes, and a navy blue satchel to wear on my back and carry my stuff. I was giddy with excitement that first day, walking fast so my little legs could keep up with my mothers strides, satchel bouncing on my back.  I remember walking into the classroom, a blend of scents filling my head that I’d never experienced before – floor polish, pencil shavings, old books – and seeing a wall full of kids books that I had not yet read. Oh the joy!

I had all of those books read before Christmas, and in the new year they let me go into the classroom of the next form (grade) up to start working my way through their shelves.

But there was a huge problem that had never entered my mind before walking into the classroom that first day; I wasn’t there to just read. There was other stuff I had to learn. I could already print but I was a lousy speller. This mystified my teachers for years, as they all knew I read way beyond my grade (tests showed I was reading at a second year college level in grade seven). So how could someone who read so much not know how to spell the words she was reading? I had no idea at the time, all I knew was I could not spell and memorizing spelling was painful for me. I have come to believe that I read so fast - I was not sounding out words - that I wasn’t paying any attention to the spelling of the word, I just sped right through them.  My grade three teacher was exasperated with my poor spelling and seemed to take great joy in calling me out in front of the class over it.  I shriveled up with humiliation.

And spelling was the least of my problems. Arithmetic. It was my kryptonite. I absolutely and completely hated it and did not understand anything beyond addition. Even then I would sometimes get confused.  Multiplication? Division?  LONG division???  Absolutely hopeless. The teacher might as well have been speaking Latin.  I was completely confused and efforts to explain it to me just confused me all the more. And if it was painful memorizing the spelling list for the week, the times table was pure torture. At least spelling was about words, something I understood and loved.  Math was a big black hole of mystery and that hole stayed black my entire education.  I did manage to have a weak grasp of the basics by the end of grade four but grade five was a complete disaster. That was when fractions were introduced and I was in a classroom that was completely out of control. The teacher was a really nice guy but he had no idea how to reign kids in and so the kids were loud and disruptive and I remember straining to hear him over the din. And thus it was in his classroom that my already fragile foundation of basic math, that foundation upon which all future knowledge of math would build, began to start missing key elements, and in no small part because I could not hear what was being said.  From that point on, it was hopeless until finally, in grade eight, I failed math because it was all algebra. I barely understood how numbers worked together and now that the alphabet was added into the mix I was utterly lost.  Failing math led to a torturous correspondence course, which was supposed to last the summer but took two years and I never finished it. Meanwhile I passed Math 10 because it was geometry and that made some sense to me.

I did fine in science, I actually really enjoyed it, until Chemistry 10 where we learned to balance equations only I never understood how to do that because it involved math skills I had not grasped.  I managed to pas Chem 10, however, but only passed Chem 11 by promising not to take Chem 12, which I needed to fulfill my life-long desire to be a nurse and so, along with failing Math 11, that dream died. 

Don't even get me started on social studies and history. How I hated history; just a teacher droning on and on and on about people and dates and it was so incredibly boring. Turns out, I'm a history buff. Who knew?! Certainly not my history teachers, judging by my grades. I love British history and am rather knowledgeable on the topic, if I do say so myself. I even considered, for a short moment, going to university in my 30's to get a degree in it. It is beyond me, utterly incomprehensible, how anyone can make history boring. But most teachers manage it. And it is truly a crime against humanity.

I remember a few years ago, talking to an uncle about trying to learn math in school, and he used a metaphor to describe how it felt in his head that was the EXACT same metaphor I had used when trying to describe to a teacher how it felt. This teacher really wanted me to pass Math 11 and devoted all of his spare time at school to helping me. He told me to come in at lunch hour, after school and on my study blocks and he would tutor me one on one.  There were times while working with him that I actually understood what he was saying and then it would be gone. It was just as my uncle had described; like being in a pitch black cellar, not even being able to see your hand in front of your face and then, overhead, a trap door would begin to open ever so slowly and the light would start to come in; just a haze at first and then growing slowly brighter and brighter until the sunlight flooded in and it was amazing.  Then, without warning, just as you had moved to let the sun hit your face, the door slammed shut and it was pitch black again. Worst of all, for the door to open again - which was rare, I would have to start back at square one and it would repeat the first performance, slamming shut.  It was supremely frustrating to actually have clarity, to understand the concept before you for a few awesome seconds, then have it vaporize, vanish, poof, gone. Just like that.

So all that to say, I became another school hater in a long line of school haters.  I recall one aunt telling me that when she first went to school she had no idea why she was there and figured that it was to get her out of the house to give her mother time to get some housework done! Every one of my mother’s brothers and sisters (seven in all, well – there was eight but one died as an infant) are or were incredibly creative people, and I don’t believe your average school caters one whit to creatives. One of my aunts could draw any airplane from world war two in a manner that would be worthy of a history book. She was a plane spotter in the war, so really knew her airplanes. An uncle could replicate any drawing or painting he saw. He was an artist worthy of a job at Disney, his flowers and animals were exactly the same as what you see in all of the animated movies.  He loved to copy Monet’s works and had a couple hanging in his home that were gorgeous. My mother was a cake decorator and her cakes were truly works of art. I recall a wedding cake she made with bouquets of flowers on each layer that were all hand made with sugar.  When the reception was over and friends and family were removing things to take home for safe-keeping, someone asked if anyone wanted to take any of the flowers from the cake as they would just wilt and die if left there – they completely thought they were real. She never went into it as a full time career though, she taught a few night school classes and made cakes now and then for friends and charged a pittance.  The only sibling that actually went to college and got a degree and made a living with his artistic abilities was my youngest uncle who studied art and, after much success in various companies, became a designer for Motorola and was the person who came up with the flip phone.  He was sketching out the idea when his boss came by and asked what it was. When he explained, the boss told him to take the drawing to the technology department immediately, and thus the flip phone was born!

My only respite in school was art class and creative writing. All others, even English, I despised. I hated learning about sentence structure, nouns, verbs, adverbs… blah blah blah.  Just give me a book and let me get on with it.  I hated that, once I had finished the required book, I then had to dissect it for subtext, premise, analogies, etc. Once I finished a good book, I just wanted to savour the story for an hour or so and then move on to the next. I regularly read three books a week in high school, aside from required reading.

This aversion to dissecting writing still lives within me today.  When I sit down to write, I have an idea – usually consisting of a topic or a vague story line – but nothing more than that. I don’t first do an outline. I don’t consider the story arc. I can’t bear to consider act breaks when writing a script.  I just sit down with my idea and start writing. This probably explains why I have about a dozen unfinished works in my computer files.  I just tell a story but I have no idea how to end it.  Most of my stories come from my life and it’s not over yet so how do I know how those stories will end?  But then, once that end is a reality, I won’t be here to finish them. It’s a mess, really.

I did take a creative writing course offered by the local college when I was in my 30’s.  It was about how to write comedy.  I recall really enjoying it and writing some good stuff but now I don’t remember a single thing from that class.

Looking at this from the point of view of a woman who raised three really good kids, two of them bordering on brilliant, and now has an amazing granddaughter (she just turned two and has been fully conversant for over six months and she recognizes and can name every letter of the alphabet but two – J and Z for some reason elude her) it is heartbreaking that the school system and how it operates can take an eager, knowledge-hungry four year old and turned her into a school loathing child by grade three.  There is something truly heartbreaking about it.  I see my granddaughter, so smart and such a little sponge, and wonder if she will have the same anguish over numbers that I had and her mother had and if so, how will her teachers handle it.  I recall my daughter coming home from a day in grade four, bursting into tears and when I asked her why, telling me that her teacher yelled at her for asking too many questions.  She was having a hard time understanding fractions and had too many questions!!!  Will that happen to my granddaughter?  Will that eager wonderful little person be crushed by a school system that caters only to the middle of the road so that those who are struggling to understand and those little geniuses get left to themselves?  And so they end up get yelled at for asking too many questions or being so bored out of their skulls they either act out or, as in the case of my son, blank out and go somewhere else in their heads.

As a young mother, I hated school even more than when I was a kid, if that is possible, because it was wrecking my kids, not to mention how from the first day of kindergarten for my son, the eldest, I hated being apart from them for so much of their lives, I hated having to be on someone else’s schedule as a family, I hated how much homework they had each night – far far too much at an early age, I hated the never ending notices and paperwork the school sent home to litter my desk, I hated how some teachers treated my daughter with disdain or impatience because she wasn’t as quick to learn as others, I hated the peer pressure they were experiencing and the bullying they sometimes suffered.  I just despised the whole concept of school and how it impacted our lives.

I ended up homeschooling my kids as a result of that grade four incident with my daughter, that and my son getting straight A’s at the middle school purely because he was well behaved and polite (that is the explanation his guidance counsellor gave me), and my youngest in grade two getting no new knowledge at all, because she was in a grade one and two split where she was at the top of the class so was put in a quad of desks with three kids in grade one who weren’t even performing at a kindergarten level so that she could teach them and help them with their work!!!  Homeschooling was hard on me, let me tell you.  I won’t go into all of the why but suffice to say that at first I did too much and became overwhelmed and then, later, did too little and let them learn on their own.  Fortunately, they were all so intelligent that they learned a lot and have all gone on to very successful careers, one (the one that cried that day, no less!) getting into a college that did not want to accept her due to being homeschooled with no formal records; they let her take an entrance exam, accepted her, and she graduated at the top of her class.

I really hope that it turns out different for my grandchildren and we can break the history of school-haters in my family.  I hope school has come a long way since it turned me.  But somehow, I have this terrible sinking feeling that it has actually gotten worse.  Way worse.

HOME AGAIN

Up at 4:30am. UGH!

Joe, the great taxi driver, is picking me up at 5:30 to get me to the airport by 6 as I have an 8am flight.

I hate the check-in process and this time I have good reason; I just know my bag will be overweight. Sure enough, it's 6lbs over.  So I unlock it and pull out the zip lock bag full of toiletries.  The agent looks at me aghast. "Oh you can't take those on the plane, those are all liquids or aerosol."  "Yes I know," I say, "they are going in the garbage can."  "Oh!" she says, quite shocked.  Well, what else am I supposed to do?  My carry on bag is rather full and a couple of pairs of socks that I might be able to squash in there won't help the weight any!  It's still 3lbs over and she scowls and shakes her head so I take out a couple of things and jam them into my purse.  That gets it down to 52lbs, 2lbs over and she nods, much to my relief.  As I walk over to the trash to drop the bag of toiletries into it, I am wishing I had left them behind for the housekeeping staff.

It looks like today is going to be a sunny day on Grenada.  Rats. I wish this weather had happened yesterday. I was quite sad not to have a last swim and lie out in the hot sunshine.

My flights are somewhat uneventful except that, on the longest leg, I have a 300lb, 6'8" guy in a stained white t-shirt sitting in the seat in front of me and he puts the seat back in recline before we are even off the ground.  It stays that way the whole flight.  And every time I go into the pocket or even tap the back of his seat it with my foot when I cross my legs, he looks over his shoulder towards me.  What I'd like to do is ram my feet in the back of it over and over.  Why?  Well for one, he keeps pushing back in the seat like he wants it to go further back, and with his weight it does move back a few inches each time. For another he scratches the back of his head every 10 minutes and I get to watch dandruff drift down onto my tray. So gross! He also gets up at one point and stands fully on my foot, while I am sleeping, jarring me painfully awake.  I have an isle seat so that I can stretch my leg with the bad knee out to keep it from seizing up.  He doesn't even acknowledge that he did it, let alone apologize. The big lug.

On the last flight, there is an old couple beside me, both tiny and wiry.  They look like they used to be hippies back in the day.  They are from Colorado and are taking their first trip to BC.  They are very sweet but at one point she puts on these huge headphones, cranks her tunes on an iPod, and starts bopping about in her seat, right beside me.  So annoying.

I can't recall a time I have ever been happier to get off a plane.

I take the skytrain and then the Seabus back to Vancouver where my daughter meets me and drives me home.  It feels good to be back.

A few days later, I see my granddaughter and she loves the few things I bought for her; the Caribbean doll, the t-shirt, and a lovely illustrated children's book about kids in the Caribbean.

It is so great to see her again, I have missed her so so very much.  And she is very excited to see me. Ashleigh tells me that yesterday, she went to the door and stood there insisting that she go to 'Nan's'. She also tells me that Malia had talked frequently about me the past week so it was like she knew I was coming home when she stood at the door.  So cute! 

The whole nutmeg, bagged jerk seasoning, chocolate bars, and hot chocolate balls were a hit with Ashleigh as well.

Now to do about 5 loads of laundry.  Everything, worn or not, needs to go through the wash. The humidity of the Caribbean gets into everything and needs to be washed and dried out before putting things away.

Hmmm... maybe that is why my bags are always heavier coming back than going, even when I don't buy much and give lots away while gone.  And I always assumed it was the scales at the check in that were out!

LAST DAY ON GRENADA

Up too early again.

I see a cruise ship come in at about 7:30 am, the first one of the season.

First cruise ship of the season

It was raining when I first got up and for a while after but now it has stopped and started to look promising so off to the beach for one last day of sun, sand, and swimming.  I want to commit it all to memory today, all the senses, so that I can recall it in the coming days of winter back home.

Didn't look too promising when I first got up

I'm not there five minutes and it starts to rain, and rain hard.  I pull my lounge up under the tree, right to the trunk, and put a towel over my head and continue to read the book I am into, hoping it will pass soon. After 20 minutes or so, the rain starts to drip from the towel, which is soaked through, onto my Kindle so I give up.  I am walking to the Allemanda lobby with the towel over my head when I hear my name being called.  I look out from under the towel and see Amy and John sitting out of the rain at the restaurant by the pool so I go join them and we sit there for about two hours while we wait it out. We have a good conversation, getting to know more about each other. They both work for the post office, and that is where they met.  I tell them my dad used to work for the Royal Mail as well, when we lived in England.

Rotten rain, ruining my last day here

At 1:30, with no sign of the rain letting up, they decide to go to their room and I decide to have lunch at the restaurant. I order a pita wrap which is delicious and served with lovely crunchy fries - under $7 Canadian, a very good deal. I am the only person at the restaurant and have only seen one other group dining here the entire time I've been walking back and forth to the beach for the past 10 days. I don't know how they stay in business. The food is really good so maybe they will get busy once the season starts, next month.

After delaying as long as I possibly can, I finally walk back to my hotel in the drizzle carrying two very heavy, soaked through towels along with my usual bag of stuff. Exhausting!

When I get there, the cleaning staff is just finishing up and I call Alison over, the girl who was getting my room ready the day I arrived here. I thank her for everything and give her all the EC cash I have left (about $25 and change) and also give her the pop-up floaty I brought with me but didn't use - I will have NO room for that in my bag on the trip home. She says her daughter will love it. I can't believe she is a mom, I thought she was about 17 but turns out she's a lot older and married!  We hug and say good-bye and she says she is sad to see me go and hopes I come back one day.

Lovely Alison

There's nothing much to do but take a shower, and then lay on the bed and read till it is time to get ready for dinner.  It is dark by 6:30 when Amy and John pick me up in their rental jeep, and we head off to La Phare Bleu, about half an hour away, for the Friendship Table dinner.

There are more people at the dinner than last week. And tonight the meal will be served family style - bowls of steaming food to pass around.  When we are seated, a couple sit across from us and they have some other people with them. We introduce ourselves and they are Jana and Dieter.  We find out half way through the meal that they are the owners of Le Phare Bleu, which is more than just a restaurant, it is a gorgeous resort that they built from the ground up. They are originally from Switzerland and the rest of their group is family over for a visit.  She delights in telling us how, one Sunday a month, the resort holds what they call a Dinghy Concert, out in the bay, where the cruisers come in their dinghies, raft together, and live music is played by various musicians set up on a floating stage.  I have heard of these concerts from Mike Sweeny, who is a cruiser and spends summers in Grenada.  I've seen pictures of it on his blog and it looks like a lot of fun.  She gets her husband, Dieter, to put a CD of one of the concerts on the TV over the bar.  We watch and it really looks like a very good time.

The food tonight is Mexican and it is very good.  Jana tells us how they are losing their staff and some of their chefs to the new and huge Sandals resort that is almost completed, not far away.  She said it is proving to be a big issue for many of the more established resorts as they need so many staff at Sandals and are actively poaching all the hotels and resorts. She is worried that they won't be able to keep everything operating properly.  Again I think, if I was trained in hotel services, or bartending, I could get a job in a snap here.  But then again, I am really looking forward to getting home and seeing my family. I especially miss my little granddaughter. She has completely wrecked the whole notion of me ever living in the Caribbean, at least for more than a few months at a time.

Amy and John, my new beach friends

When we get back to my hotel, I say goodbye to my new friends and promise to keep in touch.  Once in my room, I set about getting the rest of my things packed up.  I just know I am going to have overweight luggage tomorrow and debate leaving most of my toiletries behind for either the maid to take or toss out. It's about $30 worth of stuff but if I am overweight, it will be $50 US. I decide to leave my shampoo and conditioner, a couple of other cheaper items, and put the rest into a large zip lock bag right at the top of my luggage.  That way, if I need to, I can get at it easily.

One thing I won't miss around here and that is the noisy people next door.  Seriously!