Month: July 2019

A lovely couple of weeks back in the UK catching up with friends and family and celebrating 21 years together.

Fowey.

Boat trip today.

Inspired by memories of Wind in the Willows and Swallows and Amazons we imagined ourselves in the innocent world we read about as children.

We were the Famous Five setting off on a river adventure and with ‘pip pips‘ and ‘splendids‘ we headed to the dockside in Fowey.

But as we got to the dock, with a flash of shared insight, we all began giggling as we thought about the ‘Inbetweeners’ Episode ‘The Field Trip‘ where the boys go on a boat trip in Swanage Harbour. If you have not seen it I highly recommend it.

The innocent jolly japes of our imagined childhoods were replaced by the far closer approximation of reality as shown in the sitcom.

Smutty giggles of ‘socks on cocks‘, ‘where’s the flares‘ and ‘punching fish to death‘ rang out as we laughed at the puerile on-screen buffoonery that amused us all so much.

Prescient?

Beautiful day.

Picnic pasties securely stowed.

Life vests on.

James was given the ‘how to drive the boat‘ briefing by the rental bloke.

Off we set.

Puttering up the river.

About an hour into our adventure and at the widest part of the river, where the River Fowey meets the River Lerryn, the engine died and the boat stopped.

Just to spice up the tension the tide was now rapidly causing the river level to drop.

There was now a very real danger of us being stranded on the emerging mudflats.

Pushed one way by the rapidly outgoing tide and blown the other by the wind we were in the dead center of the river.

James and I started paddling while we reviewed our predicament and tried to restart the motor.

Nothing.

We couldn’t find the flare but a quick phone call back to the boat rental company had the rescue boat dispatched and help on the way.

‘Bloody hell I’ll have to shut my whole operation down. Oh god the tide is going out! You’ve gone too far. You’ve gone too far! It’ll take ages to get to you‘, came the plaintive cry in a soft but thick, like cream, West Country accent. One noticeably tinged with frustration and fear.

He hung up.

In the meantime, we had to paddled furiously to stay ahead of the falling tide and avoid being stuck in the muddy ooze that was rapidly appearing all around us.

We had to cover about half a mile to get to the non-tidal part of the estuary or face being marooned in the mud.

With an effort, we reached the deeper part of the river where three passing paddleboarders came to our aid.

They whizzed home to get dad and his boat.

Out came their dad to tow us back to Fowey.

We had discovered who led the Blytonesk life of boats and fun adventure and who existed in the world portrayed in comedy.

On the way back we met the rental rescue boat. The chap hopped onto our boat and as quick as a flash started our motor and off we went again.

We waved thank you to our paddleboarding friends.

We where all soaked to the skin.

Hysterical!

The Lincoln Road Mall, like much of Miami Beach, gives the impression of a fading smile. A once beautiful set of pearly whites marred by lack of care and upkeep.

Time has taken its toll. Some of the teeth are pristine and white. Others dark and rotting. Some missing completely. Its looks like a mouth full of broken teeth.

Vacant shops and hotels pepper the high street, gathering dust. Units, once homes to easily recognisable names of retail, advertise cheap spaces for rent. Next, to them boutique shops offering marque makes and the type of chique only serious money can buy; their exclusive clientele insulated from the heat and grinding poverty in their bubble tea world as much by money as a practiced callous indifference.

So much so that even the tasing one homeless man in the middle of the street, in the middle of the day doesn’t so much as cause a stir.

On every street, huge spaces are given over to selling tatt to tourists. They all carry identical ranges of stock selling everything from skimpy swimsuits to mummified crocodile heads. Yes, real reptilian heads, in every size being sold as souvenirs alongside ashtrays and fake designer clothes. The shops all lurid bright colours reminiscent of the 80’s blare out loud Latin pop music with a thumping baseline and Spanish rap.

Here where the high street runs into the sand and the pale blue sea the poor beg outside multi-million-dollar apartments the dysfunctional American dream is played out in all its glory and pitilessness.

Played out here at a glacial pace under tropical sun of the American Riviera is the great American recession of the last 20 years.

South Beach, the very model for the Darwinian struggle that is the very best and worst of capitalism. A fight for survival played out between colliding cultures full of energy and dynamism.

And just wonderful.

 

Exhausted after another full-on school year I have spent the weekend just catching my breath and taking stock of our time here so far.

It’s only been the blink of an eye but three years have passed since we began this adventure.

To help with this period of reflection we have friends staying with us.

The great thing about having guests is that you get to see the island through their eyes. You get to explore afresh and show off your favourite sites.

Saturday found us swimming at governors beach, visiting Hell, popping into Macabucca for Mudslides, stopping at Camana Bay for a mooch before driving out to Spots Beach to swim with sea turtles.

Sunday was James’s 17th Birthday. Yep my son is 17 years old.

So we had breakfast in town before donning snorkel gear and heading out to the reefs over Eden Rock. After a couple of hours, we headed to shore and Vic drove everyone down to Sunset House. I swam.

At Sunset, Sue and I swam out to see the mermaid. We free dived down to get a better view before settling down to enjoy the view with a Mudslide.

Monday and we circumnavigated the east of the island stopping to see the Blowholes and the Wreck of the 10 Sails.

Then on to Starfish Point for a picnic via Over the Edge for a Mudslide and Jonny Cakes.

We rounded off the day at Rum Point with Mudslides.

Tuesday, Sting Ray City in the morning and Sue, Steve, Andy, and Sarah spent the rest of the day just grinning from ear to ear and were still on a high from the outing the next day.

We rounded off the afternoon with a lazy lunch at Rackham’s and snorkeling with the Tarpon. Everyone was nicely sun-baked and exhausted so soup for dinner and cocktails just to help everyone sleep.

Wednesday, Poppy took our guests on a walk to town. Their aim for the day to go ‘Geo-Cashing’. The world-wide treasure hunt craze; for the uninitiated. Sarah stayed behind so I had her helping me with baking.

We made high tea with a Caribbean twist, Cucumber Sandwiches, iced tea, Venezuelan Pan de Jamon and Pina Colada Rum Cake. The gang returned and within 20 minutes all our hard work was gone! Everyone was left suitably replete and with the weather looking overcast we snuggled in to watch a film.

Thursday. Dive Day. James and I headed out early for a dive; the final part of my Advanced Diving Qualification and my 100th dive. Over the wall for a deep dive and then onto the Wreck of the Doc Polson. Both wonderful.

Steve tagged along for the ride. He started the day being typically English and reserved not wanting to be in the way. By the time we finished, he was barefoot and shirtless climbing all over the boat jumping in the sea. Clearly channeling his inner pirate.

We watched the most spectacular storm over George Town.

Then in the afternoon, we took Sue and Steve (now back to normal) diving. They undertook their Discover Scuba training and then we all headed out to the reef near the Lobster Pot for their first dive.

They loved it!

Friday. I headed into work to get some end of year reports done. Vic and the gang headed towards 7 Mile stopping off at the Ritz on the way to see their in house art gallery.

Suitably culturally recharged they then headed on to Royal Palms for a day of Cocktails and a top-up of sunshine.

 

 

Steve particularly enjoyed the cocktails… he was as tired as a newt afterwards.

Reports done I headed home and started cooking up a storm. Mango curry, chicken and coconut korma and a spicy vegetable curry all served with fluffy saffron and coconut rice and chapatis.

The gang descended Jon, Dee, Jack, Holly, Arty, Drew, Paul, Steph, and Clive. With Sue, Steve, Andy, and Sarah plus those already in residence it was quite a house full!

Still, there was plenty of food to go round.

Saturday and off to the Turtle Sanctuary.

Sue, who left the house unsure about ‘why we had to go to the turtle farm‘, fell in love with the place as soon as we entered the park. She literally screamed and I am sure she said, ‘they’re so cute I could die‘ and proceeded to turn into Agnes.

 

 

Mesmerised by the adults in the main pond we just stood gaping happily at the giants for half an hour before reluctantly moving on to the babies.

It’s hard to describe how pretty they are. Each one like a living broach, their shells like exquisite paintings.

 

 

Of course, the encounter tanks were a hit with all even Andy who managed to get bitten by one baby. After a good long time we eventually wrestled, a now besotted, Sue out of the water, ‘but I love them’ came her wail, as she was dragged out.

 

 

We mooched on to the big pool and met the reef sharks, barracuda and tarpon.

After a suitable period of ‘ooh’ and ‘ah’ and ‘would you just look at that’ it was time to snorkel.

 

 

We rather lost our guests at this point as they simply refused to leave the turtle pond until it shut. They swam about giggling and goggle-eyed. But who can blame them? Swimming with sea turtles is magical after all.

We moved on to the aviary and hand-feeding time.

 

 

Which was nice.

To cap off our visit we hung out by the pool. And because we were just next door to Macabucca we just had to stop for a Mudslide.

At this point, we were beginning to worry Sue might be hooked.

So to help her:

Sunday and breakfast at the Marriott with the gang.

Wreck snorkeling and a final Mudslide while watching one last sunset over the Caribbean.