I have been warned by the Mem- sa-hib, that I have to stop writing social essays… I didn’t know I was… and tell people about the children and family things. So as I don’t wish to be celibate for an extended period of time here is a bit more of a personal blog… apologies if you are bored witless!
Well, summer is well and truly over and what a spiffing one it was. In truth, of course, we don’t actually have summer here but I’m just trying to join in! The 4 season routine I’ve known and loved all my life (remember those endless childhood summers… a cliché but true) is reduced to just 2 here: dry season and rainy season… frankly not wildly imaginative descriptors. I can’t help but feel that some marketing whizz could come up with something much snappier given a lunch time and a few hundred grand stuffed in his back pocket.
Not the easiest marketing brief of course, because in reality there is not a huge difference between the two seasons. Yes it does rain in the rainy season but only every few days or so and then it lasts only 10 to 20 ferocious minutes, before the sun, like the skulking school bully reappears from behind the bike sheds and gives the rain a damn good kicking and takes over again. It is cooler in the rainy season – except when it’s not! Yes, dead in the middle of the rainy season - the last week of August through to the third week of September - are the warmest months, then suddenly it’s as if someone has turned down the thermostat again! Even so, I like to think of the past few months as a summer. Onward…
We had our lovely boy George, over with his fiancée Tuala for a whole month and t’other equally lovely son Charlie for 3 weeks. It was a good plan as their visits did not coincide so we had a lovely long time with boys in the house… and a girl! I think this trip for Charlie may well have a defining influence on the rest of his life. He realized he was gay… only joking… and actually I have to stop making such comments as he is being awarded his black belt in martial arts at the end of this term so I need to grovel a lot from now on and cut out the silly remarks.
Anyway, he came with me to the Agency in Trinidad for 4 days and was infected with the deadly Advertising virus for which there is no known cure. So, a career beckons in advertising after Uni and he can start his career with a stint in Trinidad. True - the industry is a lot more grown up than when I started and consequently a lot less fun, but it is still an awful lot better than working at the Weights and Measures department in the local council offices!
Charlie also fell in love with Trinidad which is a much groovier place than its reputation implies and I don’t think he minded being exposed to the breath-taking array of women that glide around Trinidad on stilt-like legs with heads held high and quizzical smiles on their faces. He was in heaven.
George and Tuala - who are so laid back they are almost horizontal - seem hardwired for life in the Caribbean. In fact they may seem a little hyper for the speed of life here, but after a short time they slowed down and slid right into it. It was the first opportunity we had to get to know Tuala properly and what a dream she is… perfect for our George and frighteningly similar! It was like gaining an instant daughter!
One of our treats is to stay down South after a Friday meeting with Horizon Yachts, go for a swim, then meet friends for a Chinese before heading off to Prickly Bay to watch Barracuda play with his band… and jolly good he is too. He does a rather good foxtrot and a decent enough waltz which I particularly enjoy. Alright - he doesn’t. He does Bob Marley and Sting and Paul Simon and CCR etc. Like everything here it’s free entertainment… no club membership, no entry fee, no dress codes, no bouncers and no red roped VIP areas and absolutely no sense of threat or violence. You get students mixing with Yachtie bums who have stopped off on their round the world trips…a good number never actually leave once they get here! Then you have the very wealthy yachties off the super yachts but they are treated like everyone else and even the odd Hollywood star. Morgan Freeman for many years has sailed his own boat down to Grenada from Savannah with no fanfare or crew and stopped in Prickly Bay to chill for a week or two… how cool is that!? Anyway it’s a cool way to spend an evening…even if you’re Morgan Freeman…which of course you’re not…unless…oh shut up!
Anyway I managed with the invaluable help of friends Bella and Martin… the latter being Barracuda’s exceptional saxophonist… to get George and Tuala to do a few numbers with the man! What a night. I don’t need to describe it to you because you can check it out yourself on YouTube, here’s one link, there are 3 in total: http://youtu.be/BCDW8EuFi6Y . Thanks James for filming it… a new career beckons if you ever get fed up of messing around on your 18 yachts! They did a brilliant impromptu version of People get Ready, which you can see, and a couple of others before James became distracted by the lure of another Carib or twain, which easily outweighed the lure of an Oscar for Best Cinematography. So the last two songs aren’t recorded but one was a stunning version of Summertime with Tuala’s haunting vocals and George doing an effortless solo or two.
What amazes me is that this was totally unrehearsed, the band and George/ Tuala had never met till they walked on stage and yet it sounds so good. How do they all do that???? Yes I am a complete groupie when it comes to musicians. I am in awe of their talent.
G&T also did a sterling job of looking after the houses and Joe whilst Kitty and I visited Canada for a while. More music there as we treated ourselves to VIP tickets to The South Side Shuffle which takes place every year in Port Credit… a chi chi little town/marina outside of Toronto. Happily Kitty’s parents are 5 minutes’ walk from the marina and all the music action. 175 blues bands played in the bars and streets and mini stages whilst some big name bands played on the big stage. http://southsideshuffle.com/home.htm The Blind Boys of Alabama were genius as was Mavis Staples of the Staple singers and Big Bill Morganfield (Muddy Waters’ son) which was like watching a ghost when he sung Hootchie Cootchie Man. Kitty filmed him with her little point & shoot but it’s still great to watch http://youtu.be/EP2Pw1rPw_o We hugely enjoyed some Canadian talent as well – Jack deKeyzer, Matt Anderson and The Down Child Blues Band were fantastic, and Nalle and his crazy Ivans from Sweden were great fun. Three days of musical bliss!
We also drifted further north to see Kitty’s sister and husband and meet their new baby Mack. If we didn’t live here, we’d live there… what a wonderful part of the world. They call it cottage country and if you they are going up for a few days they say they are going ‘Cottaging’ which has a totally different and rather unfortunate meaning for English readers! I won’t go into details but here’s a clue…George Michael!
Muskoka is a land of huge forests, lakes and rivers all adorned with picture-perfect, clapboard cottages hidden amongst the trees. The only really upsetting part is that you can purchase said cottages for… I recommend English readers in particular, to turn away at this point and rejoin us on the next paragraph… for around a 150,000 English pounds which would perhaps get you a half decent garage in Chelsea!
Very tempting….
When we returned home to Grenada we took George and Tuala over to Sandy Island… the island that sits opposite our home… and realized nothing quite beats the experience of living here. The island looks very close but is actually a 10 minute boat ride courtesy of our local fisherman friends. We got a lift with Apoo as Paggi was working, but we swung by to wave hello as he dove for fish on the reef in front of our houses! It is a magical place and many of the older chums reading this will actually have seen it because it is where they filmed the ‘Taste of Paradise’ Bounty chocolate bar ads… and you can see why. A truly deserted fantasy island complete with a blinding white beach and palm trees leaning precariously over a ridiculously kitsch looking turquoise sea filled with equally kitsch looking fish. A few photos of our adventure can be seen here: MoonFish206
What adds to the charm is that it was once inhabited. A rather substantial stone house now reclines in elegant decay with a grand staircase and what was obviously once a small ballroom. On the beach itself is a tiny beach house also slowly fading away. What a life they must have had on their corner of paradise.
Well time to close now dear friends so I hope this finds you well and happy and life is short so do find time to come and visit us before we are all too old and you find yourself sitting in your chair ruminating on the past and thinking “you know we really should have gone and seen them.” Well yes you jolly well should!
But before I sign off…having accidently stumbled onto the phrase ‘fisherman’s friend’ (see above. Ed) I can’t resist the opportunity to rehash an old Morcombe and Wise TV sketch for you. For foreign readers I should point out that Fisherman’s Friend is rather old fashioned but much loved medicinal sweet for sore throats.
Eric
(Coughs theatrically)
Ernie
Have you got a cold?
Eric
No just a sore throat
Ernie
Would you like to suck on a fisherman’s friend?
Eric
No. I’m in enough trouble as it is
Sorry - but how could I resist!
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