Turtle Touching

Apart from swimming in the lukewarm ocean, laying about in hammocks and building sand castles, the Turtles attempt, on very energetic days, to take in some of the tourist attractions here on Grand Cayman.

Yesterday morning started with a couple of thunder showers and windy conditions and the Turtles decided it was the ideal day for breakfast at a coffee shop followed by a visit to Boatswain Beach.

Icoa is the name of the coffee shop we selected.  The Turtles ran from the car, through the rain, into the coffee shop and as soon as they stepped over the doorstep Myrtle knew there were going to be problems...  The coffee shop is part of a store selling fancy household goods.  Beautiful glasses, plates, cutlery and other items lined the racks - well within reach of Tiny's grabbing little hands.  Myrtle understands that stores have no obligation to cater for customers with toddlers and that it is parents' responsibility to control their own children.  However, if the Turtles are in a coffee shop where Tiny is unable to break anything and she can roam fairly free, the Turtles are much more likely to order another cup of coffee or a piece of cake.  In other words, more money in the pockets of the coffee shop owners.  Where Myrtle and Tony have to take turns to chase after Tiny to remove a crystal pepper pot from her inquisitive little fingers, breakfast becomes hard work.  Something you have to get over with as soon as possible.  No extra cake, no extra coffee, no extra bucks.    Hopefully Icoa makes enough money from child-free people and don't need candy covered dollars from people like the Turtles.  It would have been easier, though, if there was a sign on the door stating the obvious: "Children not welcome".

One place where children, and adults, are welcomed with open arms, is the Turtle Farm on Boatswain's Beach.  They breed all kinds of Turtles, a large percentage of which is set free in the ocean.  The ten year old turtles are huge, or as a Spanish family exclaimed upon seeing these monsters: "Grande Tortuga!"  The members of staff were friendly and willing to answer all questions.  One even handed Tony (Tiny refused) a baby turtle to hold.  Eventually Tiny was convinced to touch the tiny thing and Myrtle returned it to the water - it sped away, not knowing we are family!

Tony and Tiny have slapped on sunscreen and hats and have gone down to the beach. Myrtle is still sitting on the patio, in her pajamas, writing this entry.  Time to go and find fish swimming in the shallow water, see ya!

Happy Birthday, Tiny!

“Happy birthday to you! Happy birthday to you! Happy birthday, dear Tiny, happy birthday to you!” After hearing her parents’ tone-deaf singing, Tiny decided it best to rather sing it to herself… which she did regularly to herself the whole day on Thursday.  Yes, our beautiful white egg turned two years old. 

The Turtles decided to turn the rainy day into a sunshine day (or a hot dog day, as Tiny calls a good day) for Tiny.  So they put her wrapped gifts in the lounge the night before so she would see them when she woke up.  Tiny was very impressed – most of all by the cheap, plastic trolley filled with beach toys and the bag they came in…  Cake was on the menu for breakfast and Tiny had no problem blowing out the two lit candles and devouring the cake.

After playing with her new toys they walked down to the pool and beach and had a nice play.  After naptime the Turtles set off for the playground on Seven Mile Beach where the Turtles had a go on the swings, the slides and the jungle gyms.  Then off to the Haagen Dasz shop for Tiny’s favourite treat – ice cream!  She ate her ice cream with gusto, drinking the last drops from the cup… 

Afterwards the Turtles got ready for an early dinner, which was enjoyed at a restaurant called Edoardo’s.  The food was good and Nina was sung to by the waiting staff who brought her a piece of tiramisu with a candle on.  A great day for the Turtles.

Myrtle has had to relax some of Tiny’s strict routine and in one or two instances it worked out really well.  Like Nina taking her nap in a hammock on the beach…  Myrtle and Tiny hop onto the hammock and after a couple of agonizing moments where Myrtle is convinced the two of them are going to tumble out* onto the sand, they settle in.  Myrtle reads to Tiny and the swinging sends her to dreamland soon after.  An hour and a half’s bliss is had by all Turtles concerned.  There are six hammocks under a tiki roof so they are all in the shade but the breeze can still blow through the hammocks, swinging under the roof.  If Myrtle had a second baby she would invest in a hammock, no matter where the Turtles lived.  It rocks Tiny to sleep within minutes and Myrtle positioned a chair nearby and read, every so often rocking the hammock with her foot.  The hammock nap is now a daily occurrence and it has miraculously led to through the night sleeps too.  Myrtle thinks the Turtles should immediately start looking for jobs in Grand Cayman!

* Yesterday an elderly gentleman decided to position a beach table next to the hammock.  He proceeded to climb onto it to enable him to gracefully get into the hammock.  It didn’t work.  He fell onto the sand with a thump, the table flying into an opposite direction…  He seemed unhurt and Myrtle was just able to muffle her guffaws…

Plot People in Grand Cayman

Myrtle grew up in South Africa, on a plot.  For the non-South African readers: a plot is a common (pun intended) term for a small farm.  Most plot people own at least five dogs of dubious origin, a chicken coup, with our without chickens (depending on the fierceness of the five dogs) and a car without wheels on bricks.  Of course there are plot people whose cars have wheels and who have neatly tended gardens and glittering swimming pools.  Not many, but they are out there.

Saturdays were Auction Days on the plots.  Myrtle and her brother accompanied their father to the auction – in part to look at the animals and in part to eat the home made “church bazaar food”.  The churches in the vicinity had stalls selling curry and rice, jaffels (like a round toasted sandwich filled with minced meat), vetkoek (a bun fried in oil) and the famous N.G. Church cinnamon pancakes.  Their dad would scout the auction, looking for a good looking cow (I’m still talking about the cattle), sheep or pig and Myrtle and her brother were not allowed to look excited – lest wthey tip the seller off that there is an interested party and they get a friend to bid against the very interested buyer.  All very cloak and dagger type stuff.  The auction would start off with the cattle and then move to a huge warehouse on the same property where everything else was sold.  From second-hand tractors to second-hand beds and corrugated iron.

When Myrtle saw an advertisement for a “Farmer’s Market” in a Grand Cayman magazine where the parents could buy organic vegetables while their children petted farm animals and played in a maze, she was filled with happy memories of her childhood and convinced Tony to take the 30 minutes drive to Lower Valley. 

What a disappointment! Pumpkin, plantains and sausages for sale.  Three chickens clucking around outside the wall-less building.  Empty cattle pens.  No jaffels, no vetkoeke and no pancakes. Eish!

Tiny said goodbye to the chickens (or “tsikens” as she pronounces it – much like many Capetonians) and the Turtles were on the road again.  They drove past Old Man’s Cay with its huge graveyard.  Yes, Old Man’s Cay Graveyard… They then swiftly proceeded to Rum Cay where they had a nice lunch at a restaurant called Over the Edge where you can look at the fish through the deck planks while eating.   

They drove back to Seven Mile Beach through Bodden Town – the first capital city of Grand Cayman.  It is a quaint little place with magnificent ocean views from the winding road.

Who would think that Grand Cayman has plots and plot people?  Wonder if their plots produced a Charlize Theron… ours did!

All Grand in Grand Cayman

The Turtles left the beautiful Turks and Caicos islands yesterday and arrived in a rainy Georgetown, Grand Cayman.  They barely had enough time to buy nappies and water before the rain pelted down again.

Upon arrival at their apartment, called London House, they knew there was no going out for dinner and they had not yet stocked the cupboards.  So they ordered curry from The Old Gaol Cafe (the name should have been warning enough) and supped on mediocre Chicken Tikka Masala and Lamb Biryani.  Tiny, who was deliriously tired by then, pranced, hopped and bounced through the apartment, taking a bite of naan or rice whenever she deemed it necessary, which was not often.

After unpacking and having had to bathe in lukewarm water, the Turtles hit the sack.  The late night didn't stop Tiny from waking up at 6am..."Mommy, open your eyes!"  When Mommy didn't obey, Tiny took India's (that's her doll's name) plastic hand and poked it into Mommy's eye with a "be careful, India!"... It is hard to stay asleep with a doll's finger in your eye, as Myrtle can attest to.

The Turtles reluctantly arose from their short sleep and headed off to a restaurant for breakfast, then off to the grocery store for some much needed purchases.  The Turtles were pleasantly surprised to find a rack filled with South African goodies (All Gold tomato sauce, Mrs Ball's chutney, rooibos tea, Eat Sum More's and Jungle Oats amongst others) but their smiles turned to frowns when they saw the prices - R60 for a packet of Freshpack rooibos!!  But they were, by then, yearning for a piece of home (m.a.w. hulle lus het uitgehang!) that they still bought a packet of Romany Creams and a bottle of Mrs. Balls.  Myrtle may just motivate herself to jump into the kitchen and make bobotie and pancakes!  Viva South Africa!

PS.  The rain just stopped and the sun is peeking through the clouds.  When Tiny wakes up the Turtles will walk down to the renowned Seven Mile Beach (visible from their living room) and do some beachcombing.  That's what they're here for, after all...

Other people's kids

In Afrikaans there is a saying that goes  Elke hen dink haar eier is die witste (directly translates to “every hen thinks her egg is the whitest”).  In other words; we all think our children are the most wonderful beings to walk the earth’s surface.

When traveling with a child, you are bound to start conversations with other parents.  Tiny bounces towards every child she meets and starts up a game.  Most parents are too happy to have their kids play with other children, watching and guiding (i.e. shouting at them not to splash water in the baby’s face) from the sidelines.

The Turtles love when this happens as Tiny is starved from social interaction with other children and, of course, it gives them a chance to have a complete conversation while watching Tiny from a distance.  Unfortunately they had the misfortune to meet the two meanest little girls prowling around the Caribbean.  They were relaxing on the beautiful Grace Bay beach in Turks and Caicos when two sisters, four-years and six-years  old respectively, ran up to Tiny to play.  The older Turtles started talking to their parents and soon all concerned were playing and chatting.

Then the girls’ true colours became apparent – they intentionally splashed water in Tiny’s face and her astonished look saddened her parents but, they thought, it is part of life.  We all get splashed in life sometimes.

After throwing sand at her, grabbing her toys, refusing to let Tiny play with their toys and telling her that they didn’t want to play with her, Tony had enough. He grabbed his little white egg and waded away from the poltergeists.  They tried to follow but Tony ignored them and headed to the deep end to show Tiny the frog figurines on the island in the middle of the pool.

Before you think we are overprotective and that we should expose Tiny to “life” – the meanies’ parents didn’t do a thing!  They just sat there, muttering an occasional “don’t do that” or “you are going to get a time-out”…without any consequences.   We all know that it is tiresome to discipline and none of us get it right all the time, but there are limits!  If Tiny is able to say please, thank you and is (usually) willing to share, those two brats can do the same! That is Myrtle’s rant for the week and she feels much better!

Another day, in Paradise

The Turtles are on the Turks and Caicos islands – south of the Bahamas and north of Cuba.  They are on an island called Providenciales, or Provo, for short.

Myrtle hasn’t been blogging as the Turtles’ days are rather unexciting:

6:30am – Tiny (who is usually in the big bed by then) manually opens Myrtle’s eyes . “Hello Mamma!” she usually says.  “Mmmm-hmmmm” Myrtle usually responds.  “Hello Mamma!”  “Mmmmmmm-hmmmm”.  This can continue indefinitely but Myrtle usually caves first and opens her eyes.  She sees two huge black eyes laughing at her making it almost impossible  to start the day without a smile.  Happy that one of the older Turtles is now awake, Tiny then turns her attention to Tony: “Hello Pappa!”  Tony knows that he can’t win this game: “Hello Tiny”, he croaks.  “Make coffee, Pappa!” Tiny orders, without any prompting from Myrtle.  Tony and Tiny move to the kitchen and Myrtle uses another 5 minutes to wake up, after which she drags herself to the kitchen, sniffing like a bloodhound in search of the much needed caffeine boost.

7:30am – Breakfast is served.  If it is an egg-morning, Tony serves (nobody can make an egg-breakfast like Tony) and if it is an oats or toast morning, Myrtle serves.  On chirpy mornings the Turtles pack their breakfast and walk the 5 minutes to the beach.  There they sip coffee, gnaw on their breakfast and watch Tiny dig holes and explore.

10am – The Turtles head back home. If breakfast was not had on the beach, they usually head off to the beach as soon as possible after breakfast.  At 10am the sun really starts pounding down and they spend some playtime indoors. 

11:30am – Tiny naps. The older Turtles relax and take the only chance they have to read or catch up on emails.

1:00pm – Tiny wakes up and the Turtles have lunch.

2:30pm – The Turtles go for a drive around the island, sometimes stopping at the playground on the beach, then they go for a swim in the sea.  The waters are crystal clear and even if you stand so deep in the water that you have to keep your mouth shut to keep yourself from drowning, you can still see your own feet.  Yesterday two little fish kept darting between the Turtles’ feet – the first time Myrtle spotted the fish she propelled herself out of the water with much force and just as much screaming. She thought something was about to attack the Turtles but it turned out to be a blue and yellow fish about the size of Myrtle’s foot...

5:30pm – The Turtles head back to their home and they cook.  Tiny eats dinner, baths, brushes her teeth (with a little help from her parents) and is put to bed.  The older Turtles sigh a sigh of relief and get out the beer and cigars… (just a joke, but sometimes they feel like doing it).  They do eat their dinner and take the time to talk and catch up.

Apart from the seemingly leisurely days, the Turtles have met some interesting people who live in Provo and even had lunch with some of them.  Island life, it seems, can be heaven or it can be hell.  Up to you...

Painters and Smugglers

The Turtle’s last two days in Havana were fairly uneventful, until the last moments before their departure. But more about that later. 

If you ever get the chance to visit Havana, avoid the hop-on, hop-off bus tour of the city.  It must be the world’s most boring bus tour – the Turtles saw the sea front (which was beautiful), a couple of old buildings, two statues of some revolutionaries, a huge cemetery and… um…  no, that’s all.  It took three hours and there was no air conditioning on the bus.  Ugghhh!!!  It is amazing how tiring something can be that requires absolutely no energy or brain power.  By the time the Turtles arrived back at the hotel they were exhausted and all three of them were in bed just as the sun was setting.  Music started up, but to our relief it was not the ear stabbing sounds of karaoke but rather the sweet, sultry salsa tones of Cuban music.  A wonderful way to drift off to sleep. 

Myrtle has to admit that, by the second breakfast she felt a little nauseous at the thought of eating, or drinking, any of the food.  The milk was gross (not that she is a big fan of milk at the best of times), the butter was rancid and the coffee was, well, not nice.  It didn’t seem to deter Tony or Tiny so it may have been a temporary glitch in Myrtle’s taste buds.

They proceeded to walk through Havana Vieja (the old city) and came across the beautiful Plaza Vieja, surrounded by pretty cathedrals and museums.  All of them were either renovated or in the process of renovation and were really pretty.

As the Turtles turned the corner, they saw a small park where about 20 children, just older than Tiny, were sitting in groups on a concrete slab, painting and drawing.  Tiny sped through the gate and promptly joined a group of kids, staring at them until they relented and shared their supplies with her.  Tony saw a person who appeared to be handing out paint and paper and asked if Tiny could join in the fun.  He agreed and Tony offered to pay the fee.  There was no fee and this gentleman apparently brings out paints, crayons and paper, every Saturday morning and the kids of the city are welcome to join, free of charge (they had their parents with them, in case you had any evil thoughts).  Tiny had so much fun and a little five year old girl took control and made sure Tiny’s paint stayed on the paper and called us when Tiny painted her own leg… (she may not be artistically gifted but we love her anyway!).

The Turtles came across The Chocolate Museum and no, it wasn’t a building filled with showcases containing 16^th century mould-ridden chocolate.  It was a chocolate café serving real hot chocolate and freshly prepared chocolates.  Really good (but the reason for the name still eludes the Turtles).

The day ended with the Turtles having lunch at Plaza Vieja where the live band serenaded Tiny.  She did what she always does when embarrassed – stared them down.  The Turtles returned to the hotel with a “Bici Taxi” – two seats attached to a bicycle. 

The Turtles’ time in Havana was almost spoiled by the Incident at the airport…  Tiny was asleep in her pram and the Turtles waited patiently in line to check in.  Myrtle spotted a young man, two places ahead of them in the queue, who was approached by two huge men.  They asked him where he was from (Bahamas), introduced themselves and after a lengthy chit-chat asked him if he would take some of their cigars through customs for them.  He agreed and they loaded some of the cigars into his bags. 

Now, Myrtle is totally opposed to any kind of tax evasion (not tax avoidance, there is a difference…), cheating, stealing and murder.  However, she was not going to get involved in other people’s business as she was hot, tired and generally in a terrible mood.  So when the two burly men and their two friends proceeded to jump the queue, Myrtle wasn’t happy.  “I don’t understand how this queue works!” she said, a little too loudly.  “What?” said Giant Number One.  “I said, I don’t understand why you are ahead of us when we were here before you!” she replied, this time a little louder.  Giant Number Two turned around and fixed his gaze on Myrtle.  “We are standing with our friend, and besides, what are you going to do about it?”  Myrtle stopped herself, just in time, from saying: “No, that is not your friend, that is your mule doing your dirty work”.  Instead, Tony got involved in the fight: “He is not your friend and we were here before you!”  The four giants were looking at the Turtles with disbelief.  How could it be possible that these two midgets were confronting them, the kings of the smuggling world?  “Mind your own business!”, Giant Number Two boomed. To which Tony retorted: “When you cut in ahead of me, it IS my business!”  Myrtle was now worried that Tony would come out of his corner swinging (Myrtle’s knight in shining armour, defending her honour!)  so she quickly reverted to Afrikaans: “Man, kom ons los dit net, ons gaan nie hierdie geveg wen nie” (Husband, let’s just let it go, we aren’t going to win this fight).  Then she turned to the giants (as her middle name is Last-Word) and said to Tony: “Obviously some people have manners and others don’t.”  They tried to further provoke the Turtles but the Turtles ignored them while loudly discussing them, in Afrikaans.

Later the Turtles saw Giant Number Two greet a Cuban official and they were glad they didn’t take it further as they may have landed themselves in hot water.  Cuban jails are probably not as exotic as they sound…

 Myrtle had vengeful thoughts all the way back to the Bahamas and considered reporting them to the Bahamian Customs officials (she spotted Giant Number Three recruiting other fellow-Bahamians to smuggle their cigars into the country) but it appeared that they may have had friends in high places…

Myrtle can blame PMS for this little incident, but nobody else should even think about doing the same!

Scammed!!

Friday morning and the Turtles are up early for the hotel breakfast (given their limited cash supply, they tuck into the hard boiled eggs (or black eggs, as Tiny calls them), stale toast, grapefruit, old guavas and bitter pancakes).

Then they hit the streets, or rather, the streets hit them… They were barely out of the hotel when a friendly looking woman fell in step next to them.  She cooed about Tiny and then asked where the Turtles were from.  The Turtles made the mistake of engaging with her and told them that, as it was a public holiday, many places would be closed to the public. She then informed the Turtles that there would be a concert at the theatre later on and it was free for children.

The Turtles, ever-wary, thanked her for the information but walked off towards the Capitolio (like the US Capitol building, apparently only bigger).  Before the Turtles reached the Capitolio, someone called out behind them: “Hey, Sud Africa!”  They turned, confused, to see a guy walking hand-in-hand with his girlfriend.  “You don’t remember me?”  “No”, replied the Turtles, now a little embarrassed.  “I work at the Hotel Telegrafo (which is where we stayed) and today is my day off. How long are you here for?”  After introducing themselves (Alfredo and Susan) a number of social questions and remarks about the Soccer World Cup and Nelson Mandela they landed the knock-out:  “Are you going to buy cigars?”  “Yes” answered the Turtles (it is almost compulsory to buy Cuban cigars when in Cuba, right?), “we are on our way to the cigar factory now”.

“Oh, “ they said in unison, “but today is holiday so factory closed!  But not to worry, you can still buy cigars at a co-operation and it is much cheaper than the factory.”

“Co-operation? Where is the co-operation?” asked the curious, and very stupid, Turtles.

“It is on our way, come we will show you!” and off they went. The three Turtles and their two new, very friendly friends.  They held hands, then Alfredo (Clyde) walked to Tony’s side to chat while Susan (Bonnie) asked Myrtle about  Tiny and told her about her children.

 Then they stopped at a very dark entrance and ushered the Turtles into an even darker corridor.  The Turtles  felt the hairs on their necks stand on end. “Hierdie voel nie reg nie, man” (“this doesn’t feel right, husband” in Afrikaans, of course).  But still they let themselves be led into a tiny apartment. Myrtle became aware of a tall man that appeared out of the shadows with the outline of something that resembled a pistol in his hand.

Her knees went weak and her throat was as dry as a cork in an instant...  “Man, het hy ‘n geweer?” she croaked (“Husband, does he have a gun?”). The warning bells were ringing so loud that the Turtles couldn’t hear each other speak.  It turned out that the shadow-guy wasn’t packing a gun, but the adrenaline rush made the Turtles’ minds go into overdrive to get out of there alive (not to mention Tiny, who was patiently taking off all the fridge magnets while her parents were trying desperately not to get killed – who would ever have found the Turtles’ cadavers?). 

So they decided to play along.  After much arguing and bartering they got away with 5 Cohiba cigars and their lives.  The Turtles knew that they were duped the moment they stepped into that dingy flat but did what they thought best to survive.

After they left the dodgy apartment, Bonnie and Clyde disappeared into the crowd.  Obviously not in a relationship, obviously working with the woman at the theatre and obviously pros.   Shell-shocked but relieved, the Turtles walked to the Capitolio and, while admiring the building, saw the cigar factory.  It was NOT closed as it was NOT a public holiday… Duh!

The Turtles went on the tour of the cigar factory where every cigar is hand rolled.  It turns out our scam artist friends sold the Turtles real Cohibas but for more than what the factory sells them for.  Ah well, lesson learned.

The Turtles had a friendly guide to themselves who showed them the intricacies of cigar rolling.  Learner cigar rollers have to train for 9 months before they can start rolling cigars that may be sold to the public.  Tobacco leaves are sorted, based on texture and colour – the dark leaves are used for the outside layer and the best quality leaves are used to make Cohiba cigars (they were reportedly smoked by Fidel Castro but the unofficial rumour is that he has quit smoking), then Monte Cristo, then Bolivar, then Partagas etc. The leaves are sorted by hand, rolled by hand, the labels are manually attached and the boxes the cigars are stored in are also made by hand. Tony was sorely disappointed as none of the cigars were rolled on the inner thigh of a virgin.  In fact, they weren’t even rolled on the thigh of a non-virgin…

Even though cigar rolling may not be everybody’s first career choice, it comes with certain perks.  The workers have to make a certain number of cigars per month.  If they make more than their quota, they receive a bonus.  However, each bundle of cigars is marked by the roller and every single cigar is checked for quality.  If a certain roller’s cigars are consistently of a poor quality, they have to return their salary for that day.

But the working environment seems extremely pleasant (except for the smoking – of course you can smoke in a cigar factory!) – the workers get up and make themselves coffee and sandwiches when they wish, which they consume between the rolling.  They chat incessantly to each other and they are only quiet when the guy who reads the newspaper sits at the microphone.  Yes, the newspaper is read to them while they work.  Apparently novels are also read when they are finished with the newspaper…  There is a lot of greeting going on throughout the day – kissing and hand shaking and it feels like one big happy family.  Every worker is given three cigars a day (and they keep the best quality) which they either smoke or sell.  The guide picked a cigar out of a roller’s heap which he gave to Tony and of course all the workers were smitten by Tiny – the guide carried her around like a trophy and receiving many remarks, whistles and giggles from the workers in return. 

Hopefully this little educational tour won’t result in Tiny being a smoker when she is older.  Myrtle will have to start scrapping photos of cancerous lungs as a deterrent.  Sigh. 

Cashless in Cuba

All of us have (or need to have) a bucket list.  It doesn’t have to be all that long and it doesn’t even have to be exotic or impossible.  But it needs to be things that make you happy.  I’ll bet that no two people on earth share the same bucket list.  For Myrtle, it is foreign cities and countries.  For many years Tokyo was at the top of her bucket list and she knew she would be so disappointed if she died without being there (as if she’d know or care, the day she swaps the temporary for the eternal).  Tokyo was wonderful and lived up to all of Myrtle’s expectations.  It may come as a surprise then, that Havana was second on the list as there are probably no two cities so far removed, not only geographically.  Tony was less excited about the upcoming “striking out of Myrtle’s top bucket list item” but, good husband that he is, indulged Myrtle while at the same time gently convincing her that four days in Havana is more than enough – no need for a whole week.

Tony is a clever Turtle and he was absolutely right.  Not that Havana did not live up to Myrtle’s expectations – she is finding it uncharacteristically difficult to describe.  Until she is able to arrange her impressions into understandable sentences, she will jot down words that came to mind as the Turtles were walking down the streets, alleyways, squares and parks:

·         Lively

·         Smelly

·         Unashamedly free of hang-ups

·         Loud

·         Tight clothes

·         Loads of muffin-tops, exhibited without a trace of embarrassment (in Afrikaans: die spul peul uit hulle klere uit, skaamteloos!)

·         Unimaginative food: pork (dry), rice (often hard), corn (the canned version).  More pork, rice and corn.  Sometimes a piece of chicken and if you are really lucky, cooked, previously frozen beans and, yep, corn.  Vegetarians, beware!

·         Energy

·         Openness

·         Poor

·         Hot

·         Cigars – many different kinds, and somewhat like the women here: some are tall and skinny, others are short and stout, but always hot and smokin’!  (This was Tony’s contribution to the blog entry…)

·         Rum – brown, slow and sweet, like the men…but it’s got a quick roundhouse kick that can take you off your feet in an instant

·         Old-world charm with a strange Spanish-Communist vibe

However, the Turtles should still have come to Cuba a little better prepared.  Flying by the seat of your pants can get you into serious trouble.  And so the Turtles are cashless in Havana…  Tony’s credit card is useless – first of all because the hotel is the only establishment in this fine city that accepts credit cards. Also, the three ATMs in Havana, where you have to stand in line for the privilege of drawing your own money, don’t accept US banks’ credit cards.  Tony’s bank accounts are with the esteemed Citibank – absolutely no use to the Turtles here in Cuba.  Myrtle, on the other hand, has no links to US banks.  Excitedly she produced her red and yellow DBS savings account card (the card with which she has drawn small amounts of cash in countless countries…) and falls in line.  In the meantime Tiny fell asleep on Tony’s shoulder and Tony set off to a café to sit down with her.  After twenty minutes of waiting Myrtle’s turn to draw money finally arrived.  She inserted her card with confidence, punched her secret code in and stared at the screen.  After inputting the amount required, the ATM suddenly lost all desire to assist and a message flicked on the screen: “Transaction denied”.  No sign of the card. Luckily there is a security guard managing the traffic to and from the ATM machines and Myrtle explained to him, with many signs and grunts, that the machine swallowed her card.  She then turned around and stood, with arms folded across her chest, in front of the ATM. No fraudster is going to leave with her card, at least not without a fight!

Ten minutes passed and no card.  Another five minutes passed and still no card.  Myrtle knew that Tony would be worried but he wouldn’t move with a Tiny Turtle sleeping on his shoulder.  There was no way to let him know what happened as Myrtle did not have her phone with her.  So she hoped he would stay calm and not search the streets for her.  At last Myrtle’s card was handed back to her and she was told that only Mastercard and Visa are accepted. Provided they are not linked to a US bank. Unfortunately Myrtle’s credit card, which is a Mastercard and not linked to a US bank, was never used for drawing cash from an ATM, so Myrtle has no idea what the pin number is.  Sigh! The Turtles exchanged their remaining US dollars for cash, at a 10% penalty because it is US currency!  Cashless in Cuba – hold thumbs that our existing money lasts for the next three days!

Hugses and Kisses from the Bahamas

The Turtles' days in the Bahamas are numbered so they can be seen rushing around the island trying to fit in all the sights, sounds and tastes they missed out on.

Saturday was set aside for lunch at the famous Poop Deck (she kids you not) and it was most enjoyable. Myrtle had a Goombay Smash which seemed to have an oddly calming effect on her. Tiny spilt a full glass of pineapple juice all over herself and her mother, but it was ok. Myrtle's flip flops were so sticky that it stuck to her feet, but it was ok. Everything was ok... (Now the Turtles know why the islanders are so laid back - it's all in the rum, mon!)

After lunch the Turtles walked from the verandah onto the beach and ran, jumped, splashed and screamed for the rest of the afternoon. Mmmmm-hmmmm Paradise sure feels good!

Next on the list of things to do was a visit to Atlantis on Paradise Island. It felt much like Sun City in South Africa (both resorts were built by Sol Kerzner, proudly South African, so it figures) but where Sun City has a "safari" feel to it, Atlantis, obviously, has an "under the sea" feel. The aquariums are spectacular and Tiny was duly impressed by the "fishes".  At the moment plurals are all "es" so her "doveses" (two doves) wait for her outside and she wears two "kouses" (socks in Afrikaans) on her two "legses" (legs).

The Turtles are heading to Havana, Cuba on Thursday and they may not have internet access for the four days there.

All our "hugses".
The Turtles, signing off for now.

Then, Reality...

When you live in one place for a month, the honeymoon phase eventually passes. The euphoria of experiencing perfection makes way and the imperfections become glaringly obvious...

Myrtle doesn't consider herself to be a pessimist (all the time) but it would be unfair to you, my two readers, to omit the potholes and inefficiencies and only write about the great weather and blue skies.

Would we ever have our meagre belongings shipped to the Bahamas and call this home? Yes and no.  If we were retiring, perhaps. If we still had to work (which we do, especially as we are now fast depleting our life savings on our once in a lifetime adventure!), hell no!

The crime rate is high and the front pages of the local newspapers trumpet each murder on a daily basis. It appears to be mainly gang related shootings but this may be exacerbated by the high rate of unemployment.
It seems that even qualified people have difficulty in finding a job, which makes living here an unattractive option (despite the fact that you could, were you sufficiently loaded, sail from island to island with your boat, from the front door of your house).

The Bahamas is on the verge of a $3 billion investment in a huge, Chinese-built resort which may bring much needed relief to the economy. Unfortunately this may all come to nought due to politics potentially causing the current drop in house prices to continue.

Another negative aspect is the locals' attitude of "no can't do, mon". Don't expect any help in finding something simple such as a small lock for your suitcase and expect that your hair will be ripped to pieces by an inexperienced hairdresser (who would have thought that Tony's hair could be messed up?).

There is still no internet access and no-one seems to care. Very laid back. Maybe too laid back for the Turtles...

Arrrggghhh Matey, Shiver Me Timbers!

Tony and Myrtle are golfers and they loved their weekly round when they lived in South Africa. Then came Asia and Tiny and the weekly round of golf soon became an annual round of golf.

Tony met a friendly American who took his baby granddaughter for a swim and before the hour was over, a golf game was planned. Without Myrtle. The next morning the sky was grey and the wind blew but the intrepid golfers stubbornly set off to the golf course, just in time to tee off in Tropical Rainstorm Nicole that hit the Bahamas. After five holes they gave up and Tony was back, drenched from head to toe. And no, Myrtle did not wish a tropical storm on them because she had to babysit... A normal storm, maybe, but certainly not a tropical one!

The golfers obtained a rain check and went back on Friday, with Myrtle and Tiny in tow.  Luckily the golf manager had more sense than Tiny's parents and she was not allowed on the course...

That meant that Myrtle and Tiny had the morning to spend as they pleased.  Har, har, har! Off they went to the Pirates of Nassau Museum. The Caribbean was the stomping ground for many a pirate in the 18th century, before Woodes Rodgers got rid of them. It was an interesting exhibition built to imitate a pirate schooner. There were many interesting facts; pirates really did keep parrots as pets and there is only one recorded instance of pirates forcing someone to "walk the plank".

It took the two Turtles about half an hour to see everything and they were met at the exit by a huge man with a "huger" voice. "Hello little girl, har,har,har!!", he boomed, "I would like to make me a rope with your pony tails, har, har, har!" Tiny grabbed Myrtle's legs and Myrtle picked her up. Safely in Mommy's arms, she fixed her killer stare on the offending pirate. He tried more "hars" and oneliners but couldn't illicit as much as a smile from Tiny who's unflinching stare was still fixed on the pirate...

After the pirates the Turtles took off in search of apple juice. Cafe Matisse came highly recommended and Myrtle took the sent with Tiny in tow. They walked passed the Court and had to make their way through a crowd of people peering into four smallish buses. It was only when the two Turtles looked into the buses upon passing that Myrtle realised they passengers were prisoners arriving for their hearings and the crowd was made up of their anxious family members. Some of the prisoners were shouting and staring and Myrtle held onto her Tiny's hand, almost running away. They ran to the library (you never know when an escape takes place and, being South African, Myrtle is ever aware of the possibility of being caught in the crossfire) but the library was still closed and Myrtle turned on her heel and walked, at speed, back to the car.  The  library is one of the oldest buildings in town and it apparently has a creepy dungeon, that Myrtle wanted to inspect, but she never got round to returning...  One scary morning filled with mock pirates and then some real ones. Mmmmm.