OK, there is no gambling or even high nite-life on my Dad's little
island. There is not even local television, and quite a few houses and
little shacks have sattlight dishes. I would mention it, but my Dad is
pretty tense about this internet stuff and the lack of security, so I
won't mention it by name, at his request. Suffice it to say it is quite
far South, and it has a really good breeze, so even in summer, sleeping
is not too bad (as long as we stayed down stairs). There are  not very
many big planes that land there, as it is not on the radar of the tour
agencies, and that is good, as most of the islands generate their
electricity by Diesel (sp?) petrol power. There are generating plants
spaced in different parts of the island so as to not need alot of high
tension wires. (Very loud, very smoky, often quite poorly placed). The
island is getting dirtier, and IMO, the quality of accomodation is going
down. Some of my fondest memories as a youth are running around that
island on foot and hitchhiking, all from the immense guesthouse we
stayed in on a semi-permanent basis. I saw it when we went back this
year and I was heart-broken: in ruins, all the trees and immense garden
torn away to put up walls for the hotel next door. We used to look for
lizards and spiders in that garden. Access to the beach that was within
walking distance has been blocked. I honestly wish I hadn't gone to see
it.

There are still beaches that are relatively untouched, and they make for
good snorkeling fare for the kids. I bought them masks and snorkels, and
if I'd had the $$$, I'd have bought them fins for going to and coming
back from the reefs, as the undertow out there is quite strong. This is
because of the confluence of two different currents. Even so, the kids
fared well. I was so out of shape that they were zooming ahead of me
wherever we went in the water: quite unnerving for me, as if they got
into trouble, I wouldn't have been close. I have to accept that it is
THEM who will aid ME if anything happens, as they can already run rings
around me in the water at eight and ten years of age. I was lucky in
that I found a Dacor mask with a broken fastening on one side of the
mask and it worked fine for me with an elastic around my head. (Not
pretty, no snorkel, Jacques Cousteau I was _not_.) It was a lucky break,
and I say a small octopus slide out of one side of a rock and in the
other side. The kids missed it: one of those things where you had to be
looking in the right direction at the right time already.

There _is_ fishing, but we prefered to go see the big fish in the
national aquarium. That is a blast at feeding time. They feed them
pieces of squid. I got some pictures: the little fish and the little
sting rays tore it apart; the nurse sharks and the barracuda didn't even
move toward it. Strange. Maybe they don't feed every day, or maybe their
food has to be living to be of intrest to them. I don't know.

There is also some scuba diving, but I didn't have the $$$. I used to
dive when we were younger.

You have to understand we were in my Dad's little place on the island,
which was designed for two to four, and we were six: us four and my Mom
and Dad. We cooked for ourselves and we made do with what was available.
My Dad always used his Coleman stove, as it was much cheaper than the
stove. I brought six packages of whole wheat spagetti and numerous Knorr
soups and dried veggies and other dry foods. We ate often in the local
fast food (chicken, mostly, as beef comes from New Zealand and is $$$).
I would not order anything, and would only eat the kids' leftovers. That
was quite enough. Sadly, the fast food containers are ending up on the
beaches and in the water. I picked up quite a few in the water and on
the beach. In this way, becoming once more a part-time garbage
collector, as in my University days, I found a beat up but servicible
underwater mask. We did our laundry at the local laundromat, and there
as well, the people were surprised to see a white tourist there, and had
no end of questions and advice.

Because we had no car, and went on foot to the beach each day (a couple
of Km away, and enduring barking dogs in their compounds all along the
route) we didn't see too much of the island. We took the public busses
to the local stadium for different activities, and we took the bus tour
of the island as well (made by the public bus company). It is quite
mountainous, and the farm land is all quite far from the 'city' but it
is nothing like Jamaica, and not nearly as rich in arable land.

We had to take showers down at the beach, as that was the only place
that had good running water. We had running water, of course, but not
enough pressure for a good shower. At the beach, the shower water wasn't
heated, but it was warm enough anyway. Most places like my Dad's have
solar heating tanks on the roof, and that's it for hot water.

Here, the place has its tourist attractions as well, but if you want to,
you could eat at the supermarket deli like we did often. The local
constuction workers always had those styrofoam boxes at lunchtime, and I
asked them were they got them. That's how we found out there was a local
'supermarket' with the steamtables. There are quite a few taxidrivers
who will give you a tour or organize an activity for you that has more
of a local flavor. Speaking of locals, they are quite friendly for the
most part. We were constantly being asked where we were going and
whether we knew the way to get there. We took the bus to the aquarium
mentioned above and it seems we got on the wrong bus. I asked the driver
to give us a shout when we were nearing the aquarium. We needed this,
you see, as the busses are so jam packed that you can't see where you
are going at all. Even so, nobody smells. They are an immensely proud
and cleanly  and well dressed and groomed people, even if they live in
little houses with only one or two lights (often over the kitchen table
where the kids do their homework. Speaking of which, the literacy rate
is quite high).

Anyway, everybody, including the driver, told us that this bus didn't
really go anywhere near the aquarium, but it was starting to rain
(always a short-lived but torrential flood, like in Jamaica), so hurry
up and get on, and we'll think of something. So, every time someone got
on the bus I heard "masdmfasdlfj go to sdfmdlfkfj National Aquarium
sdlfdfsferr ???", so I knew he was asking the folks if they knew any way
to get us there. Finally, after we were quite a ways inland and quite
high up in the mountains, _way_ past the airport, he said, "Follow Mr.
Banks, here, and he'll show you where to go." They pushed us forward
toward the exit. If they didn't, we'd still be jammed in there.

Everybody waved us goodbye, and Walter Banks (at least 6ft 5in) trekked
us through at least 2 km of mountain roads (no sidewalks) to get to
another bus that went to the Aquarium. He waved to everybody he passed
and encouraged us to do the same. I guess country folk are the same all
over the world. I tried to give him 5$ local to compensate him (I know
he went out of his way) but he politely refused. I grabbed his hand and
forced it in. "Thanks, Mr. Banks, hope I can return the favor some
time."
"You Canadian, right"
"Yes"
"Pffft... How can you live there? I picked tobacco near Hamilton (You
know Hamilton?) for two seasons. That was enough of Canada for me."
"Well, I guess it depends on what you're used to.."
"Now go get the Bus over yonder... Tell 'im not to charge you more than
1.25$ per person"

So, we got on that bus, went about 2 km, and he then pulled off into a
field under a tree, turned off the motor, and left the bus.... After
about 10 minutes (or so, I didn't have a watch) I asked the lady behind
me if this was normal. She didn't seem to know how to answer this
question, so I let it go. A few minutes later, I asked the meter maid
(who handled the fares) and she just made like she didn't hear me. When
he came back, I asked the driver about it, and had to ask him three
times to repeat the reply:

"We work on a per time basis, Sir."

OK, so he didn't want to be early. We just had to be patient. So, after
boomeranging inland over twice the distance necessary, walking in the
(by then) hot sun, we finally found ourselves at the National Aquarium,
just in time for lunch. Only, the little restaurant was closed, as the
attendant was busy cleaning up a spill of animal food down the street a
bit. So, we started our tour, munching on the granola and oatmeal bars I
packed into my backpack, and drank our bottles of tap water and went in
for lunch after the feeding spectacle in the early afternoon. The kids
ordered chicken (what else?) nuggets that were baked and not fried,
mashed potatoes and apple pie. I ordered nothing. I finished the kids'
food again and we re-did the tour of the various aquarium buildings
backwards, as there was a group of day-care kids coming in and already
were terrorizing the turtles and the sting rays. These last are like
puppy dogs: they come into a very shallow area of the pond when the
attendant calls them, get fed from the hand, and get patted on the back
before taking off into the circular pond area again, where they go
'round and 'round; I remember when I was taking diving lessons when
younger, they would come and sit on your head. They wanted the bubbles
coming out of your regulator and they passed them through their gills.
Very gentle and friendly creatures, who don't deserve the name 'sting
ray'. I've never heard of anybody getting stung, even when they stepped
on one resting in the underwater sand.

Good thing, we did the tour backwards, as the octopus (about 1.5 feet
long, I think; quite small, at any rate) was just coming back out from
under its rock. It really did react to loud sounds and sudden movements,
as we found out. So I admonished the kids to whisper, and I got a short
film on the pee-fart  HP digital camera. The day-care kids must have
banged on the glass and frightened it. One big regret I had was taking a
256K card for the camera ($$$). It wasn't nearly enough, especially when
we saw that the films were better than the still pics. I regret not
seeking out the camera that Bill has. It would have been so much better,
cropped photos or no.

That guy should have been reported. I cannot believe the local tourist
board would condone that sort of thing, knowing what negative criticism
it engenders.

We didn't take many taxis, but when we did, the driver told us in
advance what it would cost. There were no meters, but at least you knew
where, you stood. They invariably had a story to tell to the tourists, a
suggestion as to where to eat or what might be interesting to see, and
they gave you their card in case you needed them again. This happened
most times. There were a few duds, but I only had to argue over a price
once. "It is nighttime and this is a van, Sir, so there is a three
dollar sircharge". I objected. He wouldn't budge. I gave him the money
with and asked for change. He hesitated before giving me the last 2$,
thinking it would be his tip. I whisked it out of his fingers saying,
"you should petition the government to lift the sircharge; it's killing
your industry."

Thanks, bye.
Yeah Mon

I didn't ask for his card, and he didn't offer it.

If you want the confort of big hotels and the luxury of not having to
figure out what you're gonna do today, where and what you're gonna eat
and you need a nice night life, and how you're gonna get there and back,
then my Dad's island is not your cup of tea. Of course, if you're rich
and you can rent a car, that changes everything.

But, I think you can see, at _our_ stage of the game, with young kids
(for whom my goal was their experiencing a bit of the world as _I_ had
done at their age) it was great. _I_ didn't mind the inconveniences one
iota, but my wife did. She was ready to come home and 'rest' from all of
that. Have to admit, for the dude or dudette who wants to veg out and
have all the activities laid out for them, that isn't the place. If,
like me, you find getting lost on a public bus system, in the middle of
nowhere, with enough granola bars and water to tough out the whole day,
if needs be- fun and adventurous, then this little island is really OK.
Hell, we _never_ felt unsafe.

We went into town once. Cobblestones, old 17th, 18th, 19th and 20th
century buildings side by side, no real plan to it all, dirty sidewalks,
clean sidewalks, garbage on some corners, a bum asleep in front of the
pharmacy, very well dressed, handsome and pretty black people stepping
around him, ringing cellphones, sattlight radio blaring from an eatery
(not much Rasta/Reggae to be seen or heard) a real culture shock for we
who had become used to a slower daily pace by then. We asked a lady who
looked like she worked in a bank where the Farmers Exchange was. This
was the local name for the big department store in the middle of town
where all the luxury items were found, and you could buy items and
liquor duty-free and have them sent to your flight (Usually you took
them at the same time you ordered them and there was a bag around them
that was sealed).

"You wan' de Maaket?"
"If you please, Ma'am."
"I goin' dat way. You Canadian?"
"Why yes, but how did you-"
"Jus' follow, for I be late."
"Very good, Ma'am."

So she litterally cut a swath through the seemingly immovable crowd
seemingly all going the opposite way, seemingly hostile, but really
uncomplaining and sometimes smiling as we went through, and we had to
run at times to keep up with her... Why do I always seem to get these
six footer sprinters to ask directions of?...Puff Puff Puff...

"C'mon, kids, try to keep up with the lady..." Of course they were
distracted by the tail end of a parade celebrating who knows what, and
all the kids their ages were in costume.

We finally got there, and my little girl got her "gold" ankle bracelet,
and my little guy got a water Frisbee (smaller than regulation, solid
and curved on the bottom like a flying saucer would be, made to skim
over the water). We had more fun outta those two Frisbees than you would
believe (they came in pairs) and they made us more friends than anybody
could ask for.

Wherever we went, the locals would hear my wife speaking Quebecois
French, me speaking English, and the kids answering me in their mother's
tongue, and they would stop and listen. Often, on the bus, as soon as
the kids opened their mouths, the general cacaphony would stop so as to
hear them talk. Many would ask what we were speaking, and they would
laugh when I told them I was speaking English. Some of the kids had fun
trying to guess what language they were speaking. Some asked how to say
"hello" in French.

As far as business goes, the hours are posted on the outsides of all
shops and commercial enterprises, and I think they are mostly respected.
There must be quite a bit of business, as the local yellow pages is
quite thick. I would go there to practice Dentistry in a minute, if I
were single without kids. As it is, I don't think I'd make much money
(not that I'm making any here but still...).

I realize, my dear Vaughn, that I haven't even come close to answering
your question in the true Michelin Tourist Guide fashion. If you have
any specific questions, I'll try to come down out of the clouds.

Thanks
SP

'K... You have to realize that all food exept sea food and chicken is
expensive down there as it all is imported. Of course that should incite
them to do a better than average job, so I can see your point. When I
was young, we _never_ went down South without a bag full of snacks and
food that could be eaten out of the package, but I know that mode of
tourism is not for everybody. I don't mind it, neither did the kids, but
my wife hates it.

I think the idea of an all inclusive can be good, as can house swapping
or staying is guest houses, if they exist where you're going.

Thanks

SP

Have found it in other states.

You gonna starve to death man... <G>
--

W_B
Take out the G'RBAGE
wubbabubbazG@RBAGEyahoo.com