Disappointment and a sting of financial reality. Time to bail out...?

We decided to leave Dominica three days early as in our original itinerary it would have meant arriving in Bequia on a Sunday; not advisable as everything is closed! We also had intentions of trying to broker a deal on a bareboat yacht charter; most of the companies were based in St.Vincent, so this was our first port of call.

We say a sad farewell to Jose, the manager of Harmony Villa












(More details coming on: www.oldgitsgapyear@blogspot.com )

I had hoped for some funny stories to tell about LIAT, the West Indian airways, which has a reputation of really knowing how to foul things up... Well, so far they have been on the ball, dead on time and managed not to lose our bags...BA take note!

We arrived at St.Vincent and we both immediately felt uneasy; nothing specific just a bad feeling about the place. We only saw a small fraction of the island during our short stay but what we did see of it, and some of its people, meant we would not be returning in a hurry. We did also receive some rather stark financial news on our arrival; which may have coloured our opinion. The taxi ripped us off for the five minute ride to a rather tired looking hotel, which lay on Indian Bay. (I’ve not mentioned it by name, yet!) The service matched the decor...minimalistic. The pool was so ‘long’ if you stretched out you touched both ends and the sea was clear but the beach had an ‘unpleasant odour’...of rotting fish. Opposite, proudly sat the very exclusive Young Island, if only the budget would allow us...

Indian Bay & the 'exclusive' Young Island





Our first priority was to establish if we could charter a yacht. A local company ‘Barefoot’ had been recommended and close to them were Sunsail. Despite a long walk to both establishments, follow up calls and e-mails, we never received any reply. The manager of Barefoot was as elusive as a ‘British Bobby’ on the beat. We had been told that boats were available, but could we obtain a quote..., they must have viewed the old gits as incapable...wrong mate, we’re English and have sea water cascading through our veins!

MOG gazes enviously at some of the yachts; a means to get away from St.Vincent?












Our only experience of our hotel's cuisine was lunch on the first day. We asked for a snack and we were told the only dish available was Samosas at a price that would be more appropriate in a top London hotel. The six overcooked triangles arrived just as the only other residents were shown the menu of fresh fish salads etc, at roughly the same price! Disappointed, we finally tracked down a small shop and bought bread, ham and processed cheese. Frustration mounted as we tried to link to the hotel’s Wi-Fi ... When we did finally connect to the internet we were presented with our 2009 1st quarter’s financial statement. We knew it was not going to make pleasant reading but..., for those of us who have saved and tried to be prudent, it still came as a shock how badly our income had fared. Thank you Gordon Brown for ensuring that those of us, who have put some cash away, not only live in fear of our savings disappearing into a bankruptcy black hole, but we now see little return.

Furthermore those who have tried to invest in the stock market we see that due to the banks’ unregulated greed, encouraged by the Government, our portfolio is now a shadow of its former self... I am glad any pension statements are still laying un-opened back in the UK; we dread to think what state they are in. A silence envelopes the Old Gits as the financial implications sink in. We sat in our room chewing on tough ham and stale bread when the inevitable happened... a row ensued. We eventually retired to the thumping beat of the $1 taxis screeching round bends on the road just above us. The warm cloak of the Caribbean evaporated replaced by the more familiar ‘fret and worry’.

We awoke tired; the thick atmosphere of tension still surrounding us. So what do we do? We take one of the music thumping $1 taxis to Kingstown. It was a strange decision but brought the Old Gits rapidly closer together again. If we had been in Dominica or St.Kitts when we entered the taxi, there would have been smiles and some banter, naturally about cricket. (Well we did finally win the one day series...well done lads!). The suspicious sideways glances and lack of communication from the locals was to say the least, a little intimidating. Kingstown was another disappointment. However what was more worrying was to experience, for the first time in the Caribbean, ‘the stare’; the head remains still but the eyes follow you menacingly: you don’t actually know what people are thinking, but we had a b****y good idea..., I don’t think it involved a friendly chat and cold beer... come back St.Kitts, Nevis and Dominica...

Kingstown market









So then what do we do next? We return in another $1 taxi...well money is tight... (Things are that bad MOG is contemplating becoming ‘T’ total...hey, now that’s a saving!) The music was so loud FOG had her fingers in her ears and MOG was experiencing palpitations. In our travels the driving in Naples had to be the worst we’d seen until, that is, we visited Beijing... well now we have a new champion. The eleven seater ‘taxi’ had 21occupants and the driver clearly thought he was in the F1 at Monte Carlo. He would even have made the ‘nerves of steel’ Lewis Hamilton shake in his boots...

Vibrating out of the taxi we clutched to each other muttering a prayer of thanks for our ‘safe’ return and even our hotel seemed welcoming. Another night of stale bread and dry cheese was accompanied by a ‘discussion’ on whether we have to admit defeat and head for home. Plan A to charter a boat, at an advantageous rate, had back fired and we now faced the prospect of having to use hotels for the next 3 weeks. We assumed that Bequia, highly recommended by many, would be even more expensive; costs could escalate out of control... another fretful night’s sleep.

The next morning the stony faced Old Gits sat quietly at the breakfast table contemplating our options. Has the long cold tentacles of the credit crunch finally wrapped themselves around the windpipes of the Old Gits?

Is OGGY doomed...?

The daring, intrepid travellers encounter waterfalls and fairies...

After our week on Nevis we returned to St.Kitts for a couple of nights, back at Rock Haven, and then took the early morning flight to Dominica via Antigua and Guadeloupe. (We actually didn’t land at Guadeloupe; no-one pressed the stop bell!). The view over our recent host islands highlighted their volcanic origin, especially Nevis...and as a true professional (!) didn’t have my camera with me, when will I learn. Male Old Git (MOG) took stock of the people we had met, the great food and the fact that tourism hasn’t really taken hold as yet..., may it remain that way.

Marriott & beach: future tourism?




A more typical view – Windward Beach (Below)














The places we stayed are interesting and value for money but you have to accept the Caribbean, like the pistes in the Alps, demands a premium. We met several Brits living out here and the consensus of opinion is you have to keep interests back in the UK or you’d ‘crack-up’; ending up where the ‘live music night’ is the highlight of the week!

I am now known as “one shoe Philip”. I had just ‘broken in’ a new pair of Timberland boat shoes and stupidly left them out side with the old pair. Next morning one of the ‘new’ pair was missing (The dog wasn’t totally stupid!), and despite vigorous attempts to locate it I now only have the old, sad looking pair...if anyone is going to Mo-Zi-Mo’s in Chester could you reserve me a size 9 ½ ..., dark brown please! I had to take off the said old shoes at the airport for security and pleaded that they didn’t lose them, sending all the security staff into fits of laughter when I told them my predicament...I am finally getting into Carib mode!

I’ll admit that we have had a little wobble again when we realised we still have 440 days left of travelling to do; living out of a suitcase..., yes I can hear the comments now...”He’s not actually whinging about it, is he?” OK, I’ll shut up!

Then we arrived in Dominica..., well, where do I start? It has taken us a couple of days to ‘adjust’; this is no ordinary Caribbean island. The landing was fantastic; that is if you’re not a nervous passenger. The runway is short and runs out to the sea at one end and has tall mountains at the other. The plane literally skims the tops of the tree canopy and dives down to the runway whereupon breaks, anchor and anything else available is applied; or it’s an early swim... Dominica is abundantly lush and, fighting against the ever encroaching rain forest, nestles pockets of banana plantations, fruit trees and coconut groves, in profusion.

Jeep and Banana plantation














The scenery however is simply stunning:













The old bone rattler of a Suzuki Jeep we hired has seen better days but an absolute must for the roads, or more accurately, tracks. The drive to our villa did make us both gulp a few times. We took the wrong turning down into a small fishing village where people, mainly male, of all ages just sat staring at us. Our obvious tourist ‘look’ made us especially open to curiosity and initially we found it quite intimidating. Once again after a couple of days you realise they are fervently more willing to help than do any harm, but usual caution is advised, you never really know. It is possibly the poorest country we have visited and some of the ‘shanty’ type homes make you really appreciate our own living standards.

However once again we saw nothing but smiles and heard laughter everywhere. On Saturday we noticed many people in the rivers (there are 365 on Dominica) washing their clothes; not just one or two but large groups, joviality and ‘horse-play’ abounded. I would have loved to stop and take a picture but we had been cautioned that such actions can be demeaning and to tread very carefully. I suspect that, like in parts of southern Italy where this practise still goes on, it may also be a social occasion. We have become quite insular in the UK and such sights pose the question that more communal activity could bring us closer together. I am not sure I’d want anyone to see my undies...well at least I won’t be washing my long-john thermals! (See Post 28th January!).



We rounded one corner to be faced with a fast moving pick-up truck almost pushing us off the road, waving an old rag vigorously. We stopped and he pulled up beside us, shouting a warning which neither of us could understand. Bemused we nodded politely and agreed to be careful, carriing on blissfully innocent only to be faced at the next bend with a huge wide tanker hurtling at break-neck speed directly towards us. I had been struggling with the Suzuki’s gears until this moment...well, I had it in reverse and manoeuvred off the road faster than you could say “Be garn, mon...”

Talking of languages once again English has been used as the base language here, as well as French, and meanings have changed, occasionally causing some misunderstanding. I was filling the car with fuel and when the young attractive attendant arrived, it wasn’t self-service but we have learnt if you want it done, do it yourself. I said to her as I finished off filling the jeep up, “She’s nearly there; I’ll just squeeze a little more in her...” “What’d you say?” demanded the girl, angrily. I was confused and re-iterated that it was almost full. She smiled and laughed realising I was some crazy Englishman so heaven only knows what she thought I had meant; I’m not sure I want to find out. FOG, on another occasion, also had asked at a hotel whether any of their rooms were free. “No, you have to pay...!” came a confused rely.

Harmony Villa
















We are staying at Harmony Villa right in the heart of the island, up in the mountains carpeted in rainforest. We are lucky to be the only guests here and we can relax and unwind. As usual the manageress and the housekeeper are very welcoming and helpful. We needed food but the road to Roseau was closed for road works and meant a very long detour. “Not a problem,” the manageress said, and told us to follow her and her husband; they were local residents and were allowed through. All I can say is I am glad we had four wheel drive and were following the locals, FOG kept her eyes tightly closed, I wish I could have; we returned by ourselves the long way! Intrepid? Daring? I’m not so sure...

We have looked at many other hotels, lodges etc, mainly for the blog:

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

Most are very quiet (meaning nobody around!); some are almost like ghost towns. We certainly can’t claim to have seen all and we did stumble on Beau Rive, half way up the West coast which was delightful; so far it is the only place that matches up to Harmony. We pulled into an ECO village where upon FOG insisted we drive to the centre...not exactly ECO friendly! We expected to see a grey pony-tailed, Jesus wellied, khaki short wearing ageing hippy to greet us. We were disappointed to be confronted with yet another ghost town...; the credit crunch is reaching everywhere.


FOG in Sun silk advert...., so what happened to the hair! (oophs maybe this is an ageing hippy, clout around the ear holes coming!)





We toured the island in typical OGGY gusto and after 3 days had covered every road, so maybe nine days on Dominica is, for us, a fraction too long, but sod’s law all flights out of Dominica are fully booked...hope there isn’t a hurricane coming...

We then ventured out to explore one of the famous Dominican waterfalls on our own. We didn’t need a guide..., yes, right again, we should have taken a guide. Not only did we venture out alone but we chose one of the hardest to get to. Sari-Sari falls are on the South East corner of the island and as we were becoming adept and more at ease driving on the narrow roads we breezed there without a care in the world.


The guide map said it was only 30 minutes to the falls but it would be rough and strongly recommended a guide. We only read this last sentence after half an hour into the trek..! Fortunately we stumbled on a small camp where two men were preparing some lunch in a large metal pot...it smelt good, but there are limits even MOG wouldn’t ask for!.



Al fresco Dominican style: The ‘pinny’ doesn’t do a lot for him!





They helped us over the river and bestowed fresh grapefruit juice upon the weary travellers, plus allowed us to take a photo of him.






FOG with rope...





On reaching the falls, rounding the last bend in the river, one gasps at the spectacle; it is a heart stopping moment. MOG stripped off (another heart stopping event, but for the wrong reasons!), and tried to reach the pool underneath it but was forced back by steep, slippery rocks and squadrons of mosquitoes. The water was exquisitely cool and so pure it seemed to cleanse the soul as well as the body.


Sari-Sari waterfalls and MOG





















We then moved onto the Emerald Pool, a lot more ‘touristy’ but it did allow MOG to shower under a real waterfall...and it hurt!



















MOG & Waterfall












One aspect of Harmony Villa is the abundance of wild life. We have parrots cawing in the morning and dusk; frogs that make a din all night (!); bats that hunt in the house at dusk; the veranda ‘rat’ (well, we think it is) and our guard dog who is a real cutie..., he doesn’t frighten me or I suspect anybody else! Make no mistake we are ‘lovin it’... I will finish with a magic moment we experienced here. Naturally it rains a lot in the ‘rain’ forest but the other night it was still and not a cloud in the sky. I have not seen such a canopy of stars for many a year but the highlight were the fireflies darting around like fairy spirits...; yep, the rum is good in Dominica!

I’ll sign off now as the bats have started to ‘chatter’ above my head which must mean it’s nearing cold beer time.


(Once again, apologies for the quality of the photos. They will be properly edited etc when we return and I have my photo-software available)







Don't forget http://www.facts-oldgitsgapyear.blogspot.com/

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/