BVI SUNSETS

Dreaming of sunsets in the BVI today.

Sunsets are like a gift from God at the end of the day "Here, feast your eyes on this and don't forget that I am still here, even though it's about to get dark." Yay God!!

SPA MORNING - BEACH AFTERNOON

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!!!

CANE GARDEN BAY

Today dawned sunny and clear and I am so happy to see that sunshine again.

After breakfast of scrambled eggs with a pastry basket (yummy biscuit, and a muffin & banana bread which I am too full to eat so save for tomorrow's breakfast) I pack my beach bag and hop in the Sidekick to head over the hill to Cane Garden Bay.

Now, when I was here two years ago, I drove this road at least 20 times. The house I rented was on Windy Hill - the hill between Sebastian's and CGB. Long Bay Resort - where Ashleigh was married, is just past Sebastian's. So there were many, many trips between the two points in the course of the week. But that was two years ago. And although I recall the road with pretty perfect clarity, my recall of the actual steepness of the hill and sharpness of the curves has softened with time.

Oh. My. Dear. Lord.

I didn't take a video of the road up the hill, that would be lunacy - trying to hold the camera and negotiate those hair pin curves - but here's a video someone else took.

And, as an aside, here is a video someone took of the hill I drive to get from from the north side of the island (Sebastian's) to the south (Road Town). And let me tell you, these video's do not do the incline or tight curves justice. At. All.

I did take a video of the road down from Windy Hill to CGB but my card filled up half way through so I didn't get all of it. I will on another trip and post it.

I arrive in CGB without incident, other than a racing heart, and parked behind Myette's. I walk down to the waters edge for a look. The beach here is really nice with soft sand which goes all the way into the water with no rocks or coral underfoot. The water is clear and warm, and there's lots of bars and restaurants. When a cruise ship or two is in town, this is the beach the excursions take everyone to so I am glad to see that there aren't any ships in town today because the beach is almost deserted.

Last time I was here I was with Shonah and Amy, and we went into the little gift store that Mayette owns but never went into the bar/restaurant. I have seen many pictures and videos of it online since, and can't wait to see it for myself so I head in there. I am no sooner up the few steps off the sand than a man welcomes me into the place and asks me to sit at a table with him. His name is Julian and he captains a small motor boat and takes visitors back and forth to other islands for day trips. He is very friendly, too friendly after a short period of time, and starts making unwelcome overtures to me. Soon a friend of his - a tall, super skinny Rasta with the requisite knit cap hiding his dreads - joins us and he is very 'friendly' also. I don't understand how most Caribbean men seem to think they are God's gift to women and there's nothing more a white woman would want to do than jump into bed with one of them. And, so far, the guys who have behaved like this aren't anything at all to look at. There's a gorgeous young fellow behind the bar named Stephen and he is polite and friendly, but not forward like these older and decidedly un-handsome, un-couth men. Now if he were to show interest.... but of course why would he - to an old broad like me? It's all rather backwards and sad, really!

View of the beach from Myette's.

Julian.

In the course of 4 or 5 hours at CGB, I meet two couples from the states who are really nice. And I meet another woman, Jo, who is there alone; her husband left yesterday and she is here until June visiting her daughter who lives here. I have made it clear to Julian, who also told me he's been married for two years to an American who lives in Philadelphia, that he has absolutely zero chance of getting lucky with me (as he put it) and so now he has moved onto Jo. She makes the same thing clear to him after a while, and then the Rasta starts in on her. He had tried earlier on the beach, and now he's trying again. She tells him that she is trying to be nice about it but he is being too forward and she doesn't appreciate it. He finally gives up and leaves her alone. She tells me that she really likes this beach but she doesn't want to come back if this keeps up. But her daughter drops her off on the way to work and so she's kind of stuck. I offer to have her dropped off at Sebastian's and we will go together to Long Bay Resort and hang out at their beach and pool as this unwelcome attention won't be an issue there. She is thrilled and gladly accepts. When her daughter arrives to pick her up it is all arranged for Friday. I can't do it tomorrow as I am supposed to be meeting Captain Fishy and his son and we are all going to Jost Van Dyke together.

While I am lounging on the beach, I can smell bar-b-que and it's an incredibly mouth-watering aroma. I wish I knew where it's coming from and what it is. A bit later I decide to order the appetizer size of ribs at Myette's and BINGO! that is the aroma that was wafting down the beach. That never happens to me; where you smell something great being prepared in a restaurant and then manage to order that very thing. They were absolutely delicious, and very tender - which is the most important thing when it comes to ribs.

I stop in the gift shop on my way out and find a great design on a t-shirt that is so appropriate for me and this trip. I don't wear the typical t-shirt as I can't stand the neckline but I buy one to cut out the design and sew it onto a t-shirt I will buy that I prefer.

I mean, how perfect is this???

I also buy a bag of caramel popcorn because I had been craving just that very thing a few days ago. Later in the evening, when I sit at an outdoor table at Sebastian's and peruse the net while carefully (the teeth aren't perfect yet) chewing on one piece at a time, the moist air turns all of the rest soggy in the bag. Lesson learned: don't buy popcorn in the Caribbean.

While I am sitting at that table, one of the staff come to tell me there's a phone call for me at the desk. It's Captain Fishy and he's sorry to tell me that the trip to Jost Van Dyke is off as he is embroiled in some tax issues in Road Town that will take a few days to sort out (he had delighted in telling me he hadn't paid any taxes here for seven years as he has friends in high places in the tax office. But it seems the staff have all changed and it's caught up with him).

I am disappointed as I was really looking forward to going there with him as he knows so many people and had arranged for Foxy's son to pick us up at the ferry terminal. Oh well, I will go by myself another day.