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Monday was for BasseTerre.
Last night, at around 7:30 pm, we had one of the gourmet meals here. We began with drinks from the bar, then they gave us bread while we waited for the curried cream of asparagus soup. Then, after a suitable wait, came the salad. Another wait and we got the entrée. I had thumb fish, and Michael had roast duck breast. For dessert, I had mango sorbet, and Michael had coconut pie with white raisins. The presentation of the meal was superb. Indeed, the whole restaurant well merited the 4-star rating by AAA.
Well, I have given up on decent looking hair while here in St. Kitts. About the most I can hope for seems to be clean hair that the humid climate causes to be wavy and unruly. Add to that the marvelous effect of hat hair I get after donning my sun bonnet. |
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I really like our little room. It took getting used to the fact that there is no glass in the windows, just plantation shutters and screens. They rattle a bit when it's windy, and it's gotten really windy a couple of times a day, so far. Of course, the wind never stops blowing here. They call this a leeward island, but it's in the same orientation as the windward islands, as far as I can see. It makes me wonder just how windy the windward islands are. If it ever is dry enough, I intend to make good use of the loungers out back of our cottage, which nearly overlooks the croquet court, and is just below the tennis court. We're also not too far from "Button's Garden". Button is "the spirit of the rain forest and a force to behold", according to Marty. Button works here. |
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We took a trip to BasseTerre, the capital city today. I've never been anywhere like it before, the streets are not quite wide enough for two cars to pass and are lined with dozens of small shops. Apparently, the roads in St. Kitts are the pride of the Caribbean. The other island's roads are much narrower and full of pot holes. The roads here are as curvy as a snake's back, with lots of hair pin turns. In fact, I get a bit carsick whenever we take a trip. The roads are also lined with goats and cows, and even the occasional donkey. What isn't a house lot (sometimes with an abandoned house) is a sugar cane field, except for the rain forest up around the volcanic mountains. Apparently the goats won't eat the sugar cane, but the cows will, so the cows are all tethered to a stake.
The thing that impressed me the most about downtown Basseterre was the number of chickens wandering the streets (below left) like it was the most natural thing for them to do. Mike and I were having lunch on the second floor verandah of a restaurant which had a wonderful view of the main traffic roundabout (below right), when we spied a black rooster and his hen passing down the sidewalk, stopping to look in the shops as though they were out Christmas shopping with everyone else. The drivers displayed great caution and patience near the fowl which is good since these chickens seemed to think nothing of walking out into traffic. My mother has a soft spot for chickens; she had a pet hen named Perchie as a child. She would love the strolling chickens of Basseterre. |
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It's nighttime now and Mike and I are sitting out on the verandah of the main house. He's drawing and I'm doing this web page. Out of the corner of my eye I keep seeing a shadow zip across the stone floor. OH, MY GAWD! It's a rat! Why aren't the dogs doing something about it? They must have seen it scurrying about. What I wouldn't give for a cat right now!
Have I mentioned that the lights keep flickering on and off? |