Off to Dominica

Oh, how I wish...!

I have just posted all the details of St.Kits and Nevis on:

http://www.facts-oldgitsgapyear.blogspot.com/

We are just about to leave for Dominica and we understand that we may have difficulty in finding internet access, so it may be a week or so beofre the next posting. However

a few pictures to wet the appetite...

FOG on a very busy beach...

The sunsets were spectacular... they kept going on about seeing a green flash when the sun finally goes down. Gee, the rum must be stronger than I thought.

The seating does comply to all health and safty standards...here!

Travelling the Caribbean is truely child's play...

The island hopping really begins with smiles, waves and an ATM machine

A typical scene...!


Brimstone castle...quite formidable












FIRE...

Phone boxes still in use...

After three days on St.Kitts we had seen most the sights and spent a staggering £7 on fuel! Not the biggest island in the world.


One of St.Kitts little ‘quirks’ are the signs along the roads. Ever so often there is a huge poster: “Disaster, swift, sudden death: BE READY” I didn’t realise Corporal Fraser from ‘Dad’s Army’ had been at work out here...”We’re all doomed Captain Mannering”.

FOG with a typical sign on the beach: no comments please!

We then planned to venture on the ‘Sea Bridge’ ferry to Nevis. This always resulted in raised eyebrows from the locals and would always be followed by the same question, “Has your car hire company agreed to using the Sea Bridge?” We now understand their concern. One piece of standard advice given by all: Never let a deck hand park it for you.

Sea Bridge ferry with Nevis Peak in distance:

The ferry can only be described as a copy of the landing craft used in WW11. We arrived so early we saw the previous ferry still making the crossing; some things never change. Boarding the ferry has to be done by reversing your vehicle onto the boat. As the quayside is uneven, planks are laid out to ensure you don’t disappear down the yawning gap and into the drink. FOG (Female Old Git) surveys the scene and her worried frown brought back dear old Corporal Fraser again... Another piece of advice had been to never follow the deck hands instructions as they take pride in ensuring you leave a layer of paint work as a souvenir. FOG then starts gestating to me as I reverse down the ramp but all I could now see were her ankles.., she finally turned away in disgust as she thought I was totally ignoring her desperately flaying arms; I had no alternative I had to take instructions from a deck hand. The directions of this man were somewhat bemusing to say the least. My assumption is he had the DTs or was just taking the p**s: I think the latter as I had firmly told him I was driving the car...

We did finally park without a scratch and but just as we were about to leave an oil tanker arrived and, after a lot of effort and manoeuvring, did manage to park, inch perfect, without damaging it or the superstructure... The exit onto Nevis soil could only be described as downright perilous and has left a tinge of fear about our return journey.

Oil tanker next to wheel house

Nevis is a beautiful island and we immediately took to it. Charlestown is the classically Caribbean with a kaleidoscope of colour, smiling faces and laughter everywhere. I stood in the middle of town, checking my map for a particular bank, when a security guard from one of the local branches came over and asked if I needed help. (This is very typical of these islands and my natural scepticism had embarrassed me on several occasions when a genuine offer of help would be answered with suspicion and a defensive grabbing of wallet or rucksack. The problem is one day I’ll drop my guard and I’ll be robbed blind!). I answered that I was wondering which bank to rob but quickly showed my Debit card. A huge smile and friendly clenched fist hand shake accompanied “That’s lime mon; be garn.” The local dialect is difficult to understand but our security friend was saying, ‘that’s fine sir, I’ll see you later...’ I just love it!

We stayed at the Banyan Tree B&B and our hosts Anne & Jonathan Rose kindly put us in the Bamboo House. The breakfasts were as good as we had experienced on St.Kitts...

Bamboo House, Banyan Tree B&B

I know we have only been here a week but the essence of the trip is to find interesting places at good value for money well both Rock Haven and the Banyan Tree fall squarely into this category.

We will be updating the blog site shortly: www.facts-oldgitsgapyear@blogspot.com

Monkeys are treated as pests out here, similar to our opinion of rabbits, for a troop can strip a vegetable garden in minutes. I laid out a banana as bait and let the camera do its stuff...

A bit of monkey business:

Nevis is a lush green island and we experienced a wonderful walk on the upper ground trail under Nevis Peak. It would have been perfect except for the distant roar of huge trucks thundering down the only major road on the island in their efforts to build a by-pass for Charlestown. Why by-pass it...?

MOG in the tropics

OK, let’s get it over with..., why an ATM machine? The ATM fiasco proves two things first I haven’t really managed to ‘lime’ into Caribbean mode yet, and secondly I am truly becoming an old git. In this part of the Caribbean most people still like US dollars but the ATM machines will only dispense Eastern Caribbean dollars and the local banks charge an earth to exchange US$, especially the state the sterling is in.

Then I was told that there was an ATM machine at the Marriott Hotel. So on our way to the ferry for Nevis we pulled in at the main reception and MOG headed into the main lobby; which was about the size of two football pitches. I was told the said machine was in the casino and after having to remove my sunglasses, the security guard pointed to the far corner with a grunt which I took as being where my quest lay. The room was so large I had to have my shoes re-heeled half way across and then I found the machine ‘guarded’ by a 6’7” giant. Feeling very conspicuous in shorts and sandals I quickly rammed my card into the slot. I waited for what seemed an age and the screen still just kept flashing adverts so in frustration I pulled the card out just as a “welcome Mr. P.R.Jordan” came on the screen. Quickly pushing the card back in, I entered the PIN and duly completed the instructions to withdraw $400.

A whirl of notes being counted preceded my card being dispatched and a receipt...but no cash. Fortunately the giant standing menacingly beside me had seen the whole episode and, to be fair to him, he immediately radioed the maintenance department and told me to go to the cashier to report the incident, with my receipt that that was so faint it was unreadable. The people in front of me where arguing with the cashier about who had won what, but as time was getting on and I still had to hike back to the car, my patience snapped and I pushed forward thrusting the receipt at the cashier garbling my story. She calmly turned the receipt over where upon the vividly clear print proclaimed the transaction had been void. “Had I interfered with the card during the transaction?” retorted the disdainful look opposite me. “Err, no, well actually...” She had already returned to her previous clients.

The second attempt was successful and the giant made the point of talking very loudly into his radio that the machine was in fact not broken, just some English guy... I found a worried FOG waiting by the car when my phone rang; a very rare occasion lately. It was my bank asking me where I was as a rather strange transaction had just taken place in a Casino in St.Kitts at 10 o’clock in the morning... “I know; everything is in order” I bellowed testily down the receiver.

Still not quite into the Caribbean mode yet!

A Caribbean welcome..., live de life.

First a few typical views:

The weary travellers fell out of the arrivals hall at St.Kitts airport to be greeted by a dazzling smile and an infectious laugh. Judith Blake and her husband Keith, our hosts for a few days, ushered us away and in a blink of an eye we were sitting in their lounge discussing our forthcoming trip. Their home overlooks Frigate Bay and the views were stunning but the most interesting aspect was the glassless louvered windows. It wouldn’t have been practical in Les Gets... However, they were experiencing unseasonal windy conditions and it wasn’t long before FOG had her fleece on; yes, she did bring one with her!

View from the Gardens at Rock Haven.

A quick freshen up and we were escorted to the local beach where we found ourselves sitting with our toes in the sand, sipping the local Carib beer and eating spare ribs and spicy rice. I wasn’t missing the ski boots at all... It was good to chill for the last week had been hectic culminating in two days at our very ‘sociable’ friends in the East Midlands.

Our East Midlands friends in full flow

It wasn’t all frivolity for we visited the new war memorial outside Alrewas. It is an incredible place of 150 acres and although the trees and landscaping are still in its infancy there is already a very ‘moving’ atmosphere. One area is dedicated to those ‘Shot at Dawn’, some as young as seventeen years old, shell shocked from enduring the most terrible carnage at Ypres and the Somme, were shot for just not being able to go on. I have to admit being angry and ashamed at our own cruelty, but the good news is that they have all been recently pardoned; hence their inclusion at the memorial site. Over 16,000 service personal have died in active service since 1945; their names chiselled into stone by hand and accompanying them are some very ‘compelling’ statues.



However, before we visited the Midlands, we very nearly upset Jeremy Clarkson. We had been looking at some land which backed onto a large caravan showroom near Delamere Forest in Cheshire. We had parked up and pretended to look at the caravans, when really we nosing at the accompanying land, when a new style touring caravan caught our eye. Two hours later we were mulching over the pros and cons and finances in the cafe, when reason prevailed..., so Clarkson you can rest easy we won’t be joining the dreaded caravan clubbers. Driving quickly away, shaking our heads in disbelief, we pondered on what made us so nearly make such a foolhardy choice. It would not have matched the ethos of OGGY and I couldn’t see us towing it around for months on end around Italy. Now in the Caribbean, and our sanity restored, we came to the conclusion we were missing a base we could call our own. Our friends have been generous to a fault and we had started to worry if were over stepping the mark..., but even so, a caravan!

Our first day in the Caribbean started with an excellent breakfast (they are particularly good at Rock Haven) and we were to encounter two contrasting styles of life on these islands. We had been asked to the St. Kitts tennis club next to the Warner Cricket ground. There was a St. Patrick’s Day lunch and we ate copious amounts of beef and Guinness pie. Only local beer and a rather strong rum punch were behind the bar, which certainly livened up proceedings, but no sign of any stout. We met an array of real ‘characters’ from the Honorary British Consul (who had to leave early as two British drunks were cooling off in the local slammer) to business men and women, many retried and from many nationalities; there was, however, a very strong British ‘presence’.

The beer arrives...

Then we were to see the ‘real’ Caribbean. As MOG had refrained from the rum punch we drove to the far south of the island and parked up at Cockleshell Bay.

FOG made for the nearest sun lounger and lay prostrate absorbing the late afternoon sunshine.
FOG on sun...opps sorry wrong photo!

This is Bobby. A 600lb pig that roams the beach. Thank heavens he's asleep...

FOG on the beach...

I wandered over to the ‘Reggae Beach Bar’ and, fighting the sonic wind from the thumping loudspeakers on the beach, I sat at the bar sipping a cool beer absorbing the sights and smells of the Caribbean, reliving our first full day at the Caribbean. I then wondered what would happen in the next forty one days to go, most of it totally unplanned, gulp! I looked up and saw the logo underneath the bar’s sign: “Live de Life”. Yep, I’m up for that...

Note to all readers! Due to new ‘Notebook’ type computer the pictures are as taken. They will be updated and edited when we return and software restored!

Don’t forget the sister site with full details of where we are staying and more specific comments can be found on:

http://www.facts-oldgitsgapyear.blogspot.com/

Home sweet home…?

We left Camberley with more than a lump in our throats and headed home…; home being our car parked in Milan airport. We were finding the ‘vagrant’s’ lifestyle a touch strange, especially as our packing of the car was haphazard to say the least. We could never find anything. In addition to this frustration at our new situation we had some trepidation in our hearts as we would be visiting our rented ‘home’ in a short while. How were we going to feel?

The experience of the Gap Year did show a marked change in our attitude, due mainly to the fact that our budget is now ‘tighter’ than in the past. We had now become very proficient in using the public transport and finding ‘economical’ places to eat. We even managed to keep to budget when in London: not an easy feat.

We arrived at Milan airport fairly late in the evening and sped towards the Mont Blanc tunnel. Our arrival in France was heralded by the flash of a speed camera, on a very windy section of road, where the speed limit signs litter the side of the road ranging from 50-110 kph. I never did figure out exactly what this profusion of signs really meant as under most of them would be a tiny silhouette of the vehicle they were referring to; not easy to spot at over 110 kph in the dark. I predict we’ll definitely be receiving the fine…; no I am not going to comment about the French; robbing b*****ds.

We had two days in Les Gets before heading north and couldn’t resist one more day on the slopes. It was a real joy as we knew the area so well, and the pistes which two months ago had seemed precariously steep, were conquered with almost disdainful ease. Congratulations to our instructor; the penny had finally dropped.

While we had been away the Portes du Soleil area had experienced even more snow. Our hosts had asked us if we could dig out their car buried under a snowfall from the chalet roof. Keen to be of use we set about the task with gusto.

Car under snow

Despite all our efforts the car would not budge and it was then we realised logs had been put under the front tyres to prevent it rolling up-hill! Strangely nobody is admitting to this illogical health & safety action… Thirsty from all the exertion we walked down to the local bar to meet our old landlords and another couple who had taken ‘our’ apartment. They had also embarked on a gap year; we were not alone. However they don’t really qualify as one is still working as an airline pilot on long haul, but he does manage quite long periods off; sounds like a ‘bobbies’ job to me! Fly for 20 minutes to 33,000 feet and flick on autopilot, then occasionally elbow the co-pilot to make sure he stays awake for 10 hours; tough life…? It was then our bubble was well and truly burst. We were comparing our itineraries and our newly acquired ‘comrades in arms’ stated they were organising a float plane to fly over Alaska; this did seem to have the edge over island hopping in the Caribbean; but horses for courses!

View from the chalet

The next day, as we sat sipping a coffee on the veranda admiring a magnificent view of the Alps, we had the opportunity for a few moments of reflection.

At the outset we had laid out three main objectives:

Firstly to keep to a fairly tight budget. Our personal target would be to ensure the cost of the trip would not exceed the cost of just ‘staying at home’. The weakening Sterling was making this very difficult but we were actually enjoying the challenge. No more jumping into taxis; it was the number 137 bus and an Oyster card!

Secondly, we wanted to experience three habitats. To live in the mountains, by the sea and finally in an ancient Italian city; each for a reasonable period of time. We had now experienced the mountain life; it had been better than we could ever have dreamed. The crisp air, sunshine, constant breathtaking views and the feeling of well being countered the ‘harder’ life style.

Finally we were seeking “places of interest but value for money”. We have also been very fortunate as we believe, so far, we have experienced more than our fair share.

Visit our sister blog: http://www.facts-oldgitsgapyear.blogspot.com/

However we still have a lot to do…

A typical example of “places of interest but value for money” came from an excellent website for B&B’s called Alastair Sawday. On our drive back to the UK we stayed in a French “Family House” in a small village to the West of Verdun. If ‘La Montgoniere’ is anything to go by then we highly recommend this website. Our ‘room’ was more like a suite at the Dorchester, the house was decorated in an exquisite French style and the food was home cooking at its very best. While we sat alone in the family dining room we noticed the wine had the same name as the owner…, it turned out the family own the vineyard in Bordeaux: now that’s having one up on the Jones! The village is very typical of the area where the farms seem to be an integral part of the main street.

Harricourt: A one horse town?

The local fire engine was in need of updating!

Not all the houses were grand and we were informed one was up for sale, but it might need a little bit of work doing to it…

For sale: may need some attention…, the French Estate Agents are not that different to the UK!

One aspect that strikes you when driving through this part of France is the number of war graves; from both World Wars. The sight of so many cemeteries, full of youth, evoked some sobering thoughts and makes one appreciate being from a generation never having to experience a major war.

Again the Channel Tunnel service was excellent. We did experience an eerie moment, however. The sunshine had made the automatic booking-in screen unreadable. When I pressed the help button I was answered by, “Good Morning Mr.Jordan, how can I help you?” How do they do that?

We drove to Cheshire where we had to ‘endure’ one week meeting and catching up with all our friends and family; we thought the après-ski was bad for the liver… Our visit to our ‘home’ to switch suitcases, and meet our tenants, turned out to be a real pleasure and our fears of regret or being homesick were ungrounded. To say we are lucky to have such a lovely family looking after our ‘home’ is an understatement.

We once again struck lucky as some friends lent us a small cottage in their grounds, which over looks the Cheshire Plain and the Welsh mountains in the distance. (Yes, the same ones with the Chalet…there will be a huge sigh of relief when we leave Europe!)

View across the Cheshire towards the Welsh hills

We didn’t however totally fritter our time away socialising and we have been updating the sister Blog:

http://www.facts-oldgitsgapyear.blogspot.com/


We hope this website will give others, mad enough to undertake a similar adventure, a taste of our experiences, some assistance in their plans and maybe a few ideas.

The UK weather hasn’t been too bad, but we are already hankering for the mountain air, blue skies, the swoosh of skies on powder snow and of course the après-ski environment. Oh well, will just have to put up with the Caribbean. We are not sure when we will be able to find an internet connection but hopefully our next posting will be from St.Kitts; life’s a bitch…