"Are We There Yet - Dominica?"

School Website & DIY Cameras

2012-02-14T07:55:00.000-08:00

http://stlukesprimaryschool.com/

Website up & running finally - yay!

Many thanks to Ted & Lara from Florida who spent a morning with the children
giving them a photojournalism presentation and teaching them how to make pin hole cameras. Key to their success is a sunny day, funnily enough it was a great success.

Thanks to all the 'Friends of St Luke's' - you're truly a pleasure to work with!

No Snow Zone.....

2012-02-02T17:42:00.001-08:00

Happy New Year 2012

2012-01-31T18:17:00.000-08:00

Health, wealth and happiness.
Be honest & be nice!
Move onwards and upwards.
Happy Carnival Season. Great opening parade on Saturday.
Enjoy.

Facedom - Orevwa

2011-07-01T21:33:00.000-07:00

It's such a tiny place and amazing that FB is so popular and in reality the whole of the population should be 'Friends' or even PF 'Pretend Friends'. That would be good, on your FB Home Page you could section it, RF (real friends) and PF....the PF's are those that befriend you because you chatted at a party briefly and they stayed friendly thinking you might be a useful on-island contact and also they want as many friends as a teenager showing up on their profile. Once you have seen through them, realised their on island business is as fake as their 'err company' profile and you won't in fact be sending any poor unsuspecting punters their way, you are suddenly but silently unfriended. This takes a while to sink in, usually when you realise you haven't seen the 'I'm so busy and stressed out (sitting at my beachside bar and lolling by the river)' posts and upon realisation there is a real urge to FR them again with both of you pretending you'd never been Friends or even BFF in the first place.

Photos, umm, now we are told at every turn and corner never ever to post our children online because in 10 years time do we really want them googled and up comes a shot from FB that might not be quite so flattering afterall, so that's a no no so what else can we post? What time we got up, where our next plate of lobster is coming from, how many bottles of Cristal we have in the fridge for the weekend, what time we went to bed, reinventing our name overnight (that's an island favourite along with seeing Mick Jagger here), the rise of peanut farms on remote mountain tops etc? Then there's the big wait for the pats on the back, wow you look like so amazingly FAB, praise for adorable, as they all are, completely of course, children, as if you're really going to say 'little Johnny actually looks very dumpy and grumpy today and quite honestly, with the pounds you've put on recently at the Dasheenfest, a one piece swimming costume, preferably corsetted, would be far more flattering', empathy at the lack of goat's cheese on island but endless goats, and the can't resist statement, definitely after several rum punches, how wonderful life is because everyone here is clearly living the dream, bien sur.

As for the Party Invites, that's nigh on impossible on island to get away with. A friend recently catered for a hotel opening party and was told by the hosts that a few friends were coming over. Another friend wasted no time telling her the next day how wonderful her food had been at the opening party and where was she....she clearly wasn't 'On The FB List'. And, what on earth does 'In a relationship with' mean.......why not be really specific and spell it out like the rest of the site seems to.....we want the juicy details!

Last but not least Livestockville, Groceryville, Breathingville, Toenailsville, just get real-ville quite frankly. Why would you want everyone to buy bananas for your monkeys when you have real ones in your back garden. Possibly a few monkeys too. And, furthermore, who wants to water your grass when it's quite clearly rainy season........umm, maybe Hurricaneville would be quite apt afterall.......

Housesitting & Crabs

2011-05-14T12:05:00.000-07:00

So, we're homeless, gypsies, free spirits, however you want to dress it up. Both our houses here are rented to tourists - this should never happen at the same time - both houses being rented but dates change, people beg and I just can't say no. There's always a silver lining, we get to experience new places, new sunsets, new beds (however, nothing beats a TEMPUR) but always the inevitable rooster.

First to the rainforest. It really doesn't stop raining there, the clue's in the name I know but as beautiful as a glistening raindrop is on a magnificent honey coloured hibiscus, as comforting as the roar of the river might be and miraculously lull some people to sleep, it's not really for me and I sympathetically nod when my youngest, soaking wet, can't see her pink leggings for the mud and with slightly blue tinged lips, tells me 'I'm a city girl Mum'.

Onto Fawlty Towers. Yes, we were asked to please look after an hotel as the owners were unexpectedly called overseas. Easy, no problem, there's staff, how tricky can it be. Arrive, day one, no staff but a huge bunch of keys and a note - guests arriving in two days plus cocktail party for 30 on the same night. Shopping list and money enclosed. Buy enough for 60. What does that mean when you're used to catering for 5? Ok, 12 times more stuff I guess but what if they cut things in half....there's always the freezer hey.

Night two - my husband does that annoying tapping that the kids do when they want to wake you up. I ignore it and roll over. Then he says 'there's a fire, I can smell smoke'. So I look at him, he looks at me, I look at him and then the penny drops, it's me who has to look. I roll over. He says 'I wouldn't want to be in your shoes tomorrow when you have to make the 'your hotel has burnt down' phone call'. I am so mad I can't speak. I get up, the dogs go loopy, they're in good company, I start opening doors with my big bunch of keys, turning on lights and looking for smoke. No smoke no fire. I return to bed. And yes, HE is fast asleep.

Final housesit. A joy. A bed to match a tempur and a dishwasher. Talking of which we paid $800 to Ma Piper for a dishwasher that she said her son had left when he was going to build in Dominica but his wife changed her mind. Umm, hard to imagine that, not. So she says it is brand new, we buy it for the American guests who are staying (only) if there's a dishwasher. Turn dishwasher on, it does a cycle and doesn't drain. Out of the dishwasher orifices (great word) come 5,000,000 cockroaches happy to be in a new home. Anyway, I digress. In addition to the working dishwasher comes wine and pasta from Waitrose and Tate & Lyle caster sugar from England, well Trinidad first maybe - that will have come a long way then and a TV. Argh, no TV, broke the day before we arrived - amazingly kids take this v.well - well it's been 3 weeks since they've seen a TV so they just laugh (and are v.happy they have Rastamouse etc on BBCiplayer). I just thank my lucky stars it didn't break on the day we arrived.

So, housesitting is rather akin to babysitting. It's all v.lovely having someone else's kids but rather like worrying about giving them their 5 a day when they're eating with you, Housesitting is like being manic about ensuring the house is returned in a perfect state, even more perfect if that's possible. So, there's this huge pile of laundry on the line plus my laundry. I take all my washing down and iron it. Of course I then take the rest of the washing down and iron all that. However, in the 'housesitting' pile I iron every sock to every last dress. Well the only dress. This is no normal dress, it is every ironers (is there such a word?) nightmare dress. It would be the dress they gave to you for your final exam in ironing college. It is allergic to an iron. It has huge great puffballs all around the bottom of it and if this wasn't bad enough, it has a tail, yes this piece of fabric the designer obviously didn't want to waste. E-mail house owner to say, all done, folded in the Benetton school of exceptional folding style, except the dress. Lovely owner emails back 'drink the wine'. Reveal to lovely owner wine already drunk. Overcome with guilt at having drunk the wine before even being offered the wine I tackle the dress. After much huffing it is done, more huffing ensues when HE tells me I have now taken the food out of someone else's mouth having denied them the ironing job next week. Feel mortified but secure in the knowledge that next week another mountain is sure to reappear. In the spiriot of sod the Benetton school of exceptional folding, hastily put 'puffyballtail dress' into wardrobe where hopefully lovely owner will not find it for a while and any strange creases will then be blamed on 'dress crush syndrome' in wardrobe.

More wine anyone?

ps The Government says we can't drive over the crabs on the road on the west coast...if the crabs just ducked in all the potholes they'd be absolutely fine

so no problem there afterall then.

Happy Easter, got any airmiles?

2011-04-24T13:52:00.000-07:00

There's eggs here this year you know, not a lot, but there are eggs, yay!

Also, I had a mighty huge chocolate donation, when I say HUGE I mean huge, including a big real real Easter Egg in a fancy box and all. Maltesers no less, how can you beat a Malteser - it's not really chcolate is it, light centre and all that? Thanks thanks PS.

Onto business, has anyone got 39500 airmiles x 5 pax to give away? Virgin airmiles that is. In return I will give you my lovely Villa for eight weeks this summer. You can't say fairer than that hey?

www.dominicaholidayvilla.com

Bring your friends, your family, your nanny, the Housekeeper's already here.....enjoy!

Emmy - thank you to everyone who made this possible, sob, sob, blah blah, tee hee!

2011-04-07T19:16:00.000-07:00

HGTV - House Hunters International

2011-03-29T05:36:00.000-07:00

www.househuntersinternationaldominica.com

2 Days until filming us starts.
No smart clothes, in desparate need of hair stylist, and worst of all swimming costumes that have all lost their stretch and colour. OMG. Here's hoping for some skilful camera skullduggery at the very least.

To top it all off we did an 8 hour hike to the Boiling Lake on Sunday so can barely walk and my feet are all mangled, black and blue and will need more than a misty lens. My little pink Nikes were not cut out for such hard manual labour but they looked nice.....big up to our friends who made it so enjoyable - these included the King of tours and the Queen of photography and not forgetting the Prince & Princess of Caribbean property. Yay!

At least the extra tax to the Caribbean has been axed.....for now at least...

2011-03-23T18:52:00.000-07:00

Super Smart / Super Cool / Yay!

2011-03-19T10:41:00.000-07:00

www.secretbay.dm

Self-Catering Dominica - The places you really want to stay at.....

2011-03-19T10:26:00.000-07:00

Been working the last month or so on compiling a list of the 'best of the best' that Dominica has to offer in self-catering. There is no definitive list anywhere and only one company here who exclusively provide, quite frankly, a truly shabby service. I'm not saying I am going to provide this service but I am going to tell you where to go - literally - well not that literally ok. So you are guaranteed to be able to stay with people who will welcome you not only with a smile but a welcome pack and hold your hand if required. The people who will ensure your children have a box of toys if necessary or you have a supply of cassava bread if you are gluten free. Yes, these people - the hidden gems of Dominica.

I have seen some amazing places - from jungle top notch, Vera Wang sheets, cabins to take your breath away villas. The experience has taught me that yes, the rainforest and the seaview can be equally as stunning.

So, take your time, have a look when it is published online and think about making the best of your visit and time to Dominica. Stay in the opulent Villa for one night, experience the rainforest for a couple more and then end up maybe trying a dive or too near the beach. Now you can experience it with support and no smelly nylon sheets in sight.

Enjoy.

www.caribbeanhotproperty.com

New French Airline

2011-02-15T04:13:00.001-08:00

http://www.airawak.com/en///

New airline starting direct into Canefield and coming from both
the airports in St Lucia - yay!

It's all about the moment...it really is...

2011-02-13T18:32:00.000-08:00

I saw this poster today and thought how apt it was for Dominica and my kids especially. What a week of 'moments' they have had. In the spirit of 'life' school, I took my children off for a day to go to the beach with friends and their Grandma who is here only briefly. Where else in the world could you do this so easily and spend the day on a deserted beach with a rope swing to keep you happy for hours. A day or two later this was followed by a beach bar, fun playing on the rocks, chilling round a table, whilst being engulfed almost by the most amazing and constantly changing sunset. To finish it all off another day another adventure involving fantastic local food. No requests for burger and chips from my lot - lobster all round please. Will it be these 'moments' they remember? Wow, I really do hope so.

Living off the land is really easy here....we even grow strawberries too.....

2011-02-09T09:29:00.000-08:00

20 Best Trips of 2011 -- National Geographic

2011-01-20T01:27:00.000-08:00

20 Best Trips of 2011 -- National Geographic

What Are You Waiting For?

2011-01-12T11:37:00.000-08:00

Happy New Year! There's something in the air here at the moment, Dominica is busy busy busy it seems and there are a lot of new faces and a lot of 'business' being discussed on the streets.... Land is selling very fast - plots of one acre and less in particular and also at the other end of the scale enormous 30 acre plots for developments, whatever they are. Possibly interesting crop growing....

Amidst all this, new places are springing up - great little restaurants, at last, yay, including The Talipot in Roseau and Romance Cafe right on the beach and Le Bistro here in town too. Screw is even telling me he's building a waterpark, yes a waterpark...it won't be like swimming with the pink dolphins at the Atlantis in Dubai but I'm sure it will have its own unique selling point.

Mermaid's Secret is officially open now too - check out their website and even better they have their own bar, yay again! Really nice accommodation is a little harder to find here but bit by bit the choice is increasing and it's great to experience this.

www.mermaids-secret.co.uk

Think undiscovered Dominica may be running out of time....IKEA hurry up please.

The best school in Dominica led by the wonderful Sister Annita & her amazing staff!

2011-01-06T10:41:00.000-08:00

Big Thank You to the Johnson Family!

2010-12-12T17:24:00.000-08:00

Living the dream....on film.....eek!

2010-11-22T16:54:00.000-08:00

Our story so far. Huge thanks to Flip Camera (I really really really want one) and Chris & Sharon for producing and directing this and we are getting very excited about our upcoming big screen production. Would like Botox & Boobs first mind. Maybe we'll be filmed all misty screened like Jane Seymour in Dr Quinn, Medicine Woman....well, maybe just I will....

Cap Maison to Screws

2010-11-16T06:33:00.000-08:00

So, last week I was in St Lucia and was lucky enough to visit Cap Maison - google it - it is FAB, amazing and wonderful. The sunbeds are as thick as a Tempur mattress and each apartment has its own pool. This week I am back in Dominica and enjoying the hot pools at Screws. So flitting between one luxurious experience to another. Both totally unique but both totally different. Where in the Caribbean would you really like to be?

Just another day....

2010-11-02T05:16:00.000-07:00

Everyday is like this here...no posters required!

2010-10-26T09:25:00.000-07:00

I'll Buy It!

2010-10-14T07:47:00.000-07:00

There are many real estate agents here and it's so small everyone is chasing the same business. Also, they have the same reputation here as elsewhere and because it is so small a lot of transactions are carried out by word of mouth, rightly or wrongly.

We have a lot of guests, friends and yes complete strangers because I'm a magnet for them, who ask for help, to view properties before their arrival and to generally assist them in the 'looking' process and what's a good deal.

However, who knows what's a 'good deal' here - the market is going up the whole time, the recession hasn't affected prices and the place is so utterly unique that how do you put a price on a great view of the sea, your own perfectly formed riverside pool, natural hot spring, historical plantation house etc etc? So, the surveyors merely price by what they know - that is the cost of construction per square foot and the price of land. Their other main criteria is access because the roads here are sometimes not here. Go figure. Or you may have your perfect plot but the plot before yours has been sold so you really need to factor in a helipad into your construction project.

So, if you want to buy this house, one of my favourites in Dominica and situated in an area of complete and utter outstanding natural beauty, let me know and it's yours!

Welcome to the world

2010-09-28T07:59:00.001-07:00

Yep, it's all been happening here. Just finished water birthing, no, not me, my jungle (!) friends. Sort of a bit ying/yang for me being a full on hospital (yes please way more pethadine), girl. So, there's this big paddling pool in the Lodge, filled up with hot water, a bit of deep breathing and then out pops Junior. Couldn't be easier.....from a watching, sympathetic glances, just push, point of view. Midwife then tries to pass over the placenta. Err, no thanks, don't you have a medical incinerator in your car. Clearly not. Would someone like to bury it? Clearly that someone isn't me. I don't do burying. Even the first, lasted 24 hours, rabbit ended up in a shoe box hurled over the mountain, with a quick prayer mind. Imagine, digging away, burying this yucky looking white plastic bag thing and then the chicken (she thinks she's free range) or second much more healthy rabbit dig it up. Oh joy. You know, there's 'at one with nature' and 'at one with nature'. So, stalemate, it goes in the freezer, to go home with the new parents - so their dogs can dig it up. Off they all go a few days later, having hired a new car because they have so much gear (but clearly conveniently forgetting to fit in you know what) and an hour or so later I get a phone call from some students saying 'we're on the hill, can we have a look at the Lodge'. Sure I say, it's tidy but not cleaned. In they come, nutters of course, who happens to 'just be wondering around the top of the mountain?' Anyway, no-body but no-body looks around and opens the fridge and feezer. OMG, they do - something along the lines of 'is there enough room to freeze our freshy squeezed tree bark in there?' or some such nonsense. And, yes, it's still in there, nicely wrapped in a Buy/Shop/Spend/Whatever-A-Lot bag but still RIGHT THERE. So, nutter one says, 'oops they've left their meat in there'. At this point child 1 pipes up, because she is definitely a piper 'oh no, that's a placenta'.

So, the lesson of the day is, when any nutters want to stay, just ensure you have a placenta or two to hand. You know, what I couldn't even be bothered to explain as they winged their way out of the gate super quick.

Now, isn't there a nice little taste explosion/at one with nature recipe that we could rustle up.....

Trust In Me

2010-05-21T06:06:00.000-07:00

So, I was gardening today, well actually I was walking around the garden, pointing out things to the gardener, but I did have seedlings (red sunflowers yes red, impressed hey?) in my hand, that I'd grown, anyway, I had that watched feeling. Actually, with a house above and a house at the side and being a source of entertainment for all sorts of reasons, this is a common feeling. Then I spotted it. Ok, so everyone says, here on the happy clappy nature isle, garden of eden blah blah blah, nothing can hurt you, but still you don't really want to be eyeballing a 6ft snake with only a chainlink fence between you. Ok, keep cool, everyone says they're afraid of us, well this one didn't look very spooked, anyway, do they tell you to stand firm and tree like or do they say leg it, what do they do in LOST? I am sort of a bit balanced on a slope and can't really leap away quickly, so I say 'shoo' (umm, bet that terrified him, not), then it does that scary tongue flicky thing, and gives me a look as if to say, if I want you I'll get you because I know you had surgery 3 weeks ago and you can't hop skip and jump away. By this time, the gardener has long gone, (happy for any excuse to escape from me droning on, ignoring all full moon planting prerequisites and when quite frankly it's Friday and who cares it'll all be grown back by Monday), so I edge back and tell Kaa to wait whilst I get my camera. Clearly, he is well trained as when I return he is still sunbathing. Then he gets all camera shy and slithers back into his hole under the tree......now, do I tell my son so he can go all Jungle Book on me hoping they'll bond and sing together or do I keep my mouth firmly shut.....

When it all goes horribly wrong....

2010-05-14T13:30:00.000-07:00

Ok, so here you are sitting here in paradise, just living the dream and then one day, without warning,something happens you can't control. You suddenly get sick. Right, this is how it went....

Can I have a scan?
Why?
Because I can feel this big lump in my tummy.
What sort of scan?
I dunno - you know the one you have where you can spot a baby.
So you're pregnant?
No I'm not.
How do you know?
I know, trust me.
Have you taken a test? You do look a bit thick around the waist.
(I feel the waiting room patients strain slightly to hear more and see more)
No, but I am not pregnant ok. (And I grudgingly breathe in)
Ok, but you need to know the name of the scan.
Ok, it's an ultrasound.
All our scans are ultrasound. (in that you complete moron voice and I don't care even though you're sick)
Ok, show me your list of scans.......ok, it's trans-vaginal (I knew she just wanted me to say this in a tiny waiting room where everyone has absolutely nothing to do but listen to your desperate pleas for attention)
Yes, that's correct. (like I'm on this points system)
Well, can I book an appointment then please?
No, come back with a Dr's certificate.

At this point, I realised that sickness was not going to guarantee me a quick bypass around the system here and a first class ticket to communication excellence.

Ok, so then comes the insurance company. I get a form, get it completed and return it to the office. There, I get absolutely no sympathy, I guess they've seen it all before of course, so she just tells me she will submit it to Head Office, . This is on Tuesday, and I tell her I'm due to leave the country on Sunday. On Friday I return to the office and she tells me she's tried to jiggle (sic) it along but heard nothing so contact their office, in the country where surgery is taking place and oh, good luck.

So, I have surgery in 5 days, no insurance confirmation and an amount of EC$20K to pay on arrival at the hospital. I go to the bank, no far too easy that, can I get $20K out in one go - no way, have to give notice. Ok, no worries, I can pay by credit card. Here we go.

Hello, please tell me my credit card limit and balance?
$8,000 dollars is your limit and your balance is nil.
Ok, great. Can I give you $8,000 to put on my card.
What? (pronounced wur-arrr-ttt - sounds far more intimidating you know)
I want to go over my $8,000 limit to $16,000.
No, I am sorry we really don't advise you going above your limit, you might find it difficult to repay us.
No, I'm not, I am giving you in hard cash $8,000 and in return you are going to say I have $16,000 credit limit.
No, I'm sorry it is hard but you have to apply to increase your credit card limit.
But I'm not really you know, I am giving you $8,000 in real notes and I already have $8,000.
Well, on maybe one really important occasion you could go above your limit - what do you want to buy anyway?
I don't want to buy anything, I want to speak to your supervisor.
I'm sorry she will say the same thing as me and it's Friday afternoon and she is going home soon.

I put the phone down and cry.

So, off I go, overseas, to have surgery. I stay in hospital a week. During this time I am asked on two occasions, after surgery, if I would like to see my 25cm, 4 kilos in weight, lump. Now, if it was a baby, yes, but my very very large, very vertical scar, removal of various other organs too, reminds me there's no baby so I decline all offers, much to the nurse's obvious disappointment and observation that inferred I was the mad one as 'everyone' else saw theirs. I wonder, do you think they take a picture of it too?

So, finally I leave and I make it to the carpark, get in the car, and then, even on a Sunday, some jobsworth, clearly single, with no life outside his debt collecting job whatsoever, from Administration, has followed me.....and bangs on the window waving a big wad of paper. From experience I can tell this is the very itemised down to each cotton wood ball, invoice.

You need to pay before you leave - it's an exuberant (sic) amount. (He gesticulates in a breathless voice).
No, I'm not. (Suddenly, I feel empowered, here I am, can hardly walk, constant flashes of hot searing pain, family miles away, completely fed up and the insurance company, who are meant to make your life easy, have failed me). I'm back on Tuesday, I will settle it then. (I say in a don't mess with me voice)
Well sign something.
Ok, gimme something to sign.

So I sign my life away and we finally drive off.

Tuesday, comes and we're off to see the insurance company. Very nice chap and all that but absolutely nothing is resolved, they are questioning a pre-existing possibility. Clearly, I was definitely aware of my growing baby imitator many months before my insurance came into effect, not. So, during our chat, he advises me that the lady in charge of the insurance office in Dominica was very very excited about joining the company's Mediterranean cruise this year. This really wasn't the best bit of information to pass on to me but in my worn down by red tape state, I weakly retorted that I hoped that by actually paying my claim it wouldn't reduce their cocktail and canape intake. The VNC (keep up) found this so hilarious that he couldn't speak for a while. Funnily enough, neither could I.

Finally, I have my stitches out. But they don't come out. So I have a lot of drugs. Fab. They still don't come out. Then I have an injection right into my belly button, not so fab. Stitches come out. More drugs. I'm done.

I can fly home. Yay! I have to wear those very attractive elasticated DVT stockings. Thank goodness I had bought some jeans, sixth sense because I hardly ever wear jeans. So on go the tights and wow, my legs look like perfect staight pins - wow that's so cool. Then I hobble through x-ray. I forgot that these jeans have a built in/on buckle which sets the machine off. I get waved at for the once over hand machine and the officer lifts my t-shirt. Big mistake. Huge great scar staring at her. She nearly dies but has to say, of course, 'have you had surgery'. I want to say no and look down all surprised but I can't keep a straight face. Anyway, I'm whisked through, put in a wheelchair, onto the plane first, given a free drink. Great. When I disembark I reached up for my bag in the overhead locker though and forgot about my handiwork on my tummy again - passengers below me were put off their holiday cocktails for a while I'm sure.

So, I'm home, I'm recovering, I'm fine. The insurance company have agreed that I am not in fact pre-existing but they are not quite sure what I am. Clearly all the paperwork they send you when you are hooked in and signed up and paying large monthly amounts, corresponds to absolutely nothing that you may or may not be entitled to when you actually get sick.

The plus side is that I have this super flat stomach and of course if I get my DVT designer tights on I'd have these super slim pins too. The downside is that Victoria's Secret won't choose me for their next range - ok, for maybe more than just one reason.

Dedicated to all those who can't travel at the moment.......

2010-04-19T04:43:00.000-07:00

Aerial Tram Ride Dominica

2010-04-10T13:25:00.000-07:00

Cool, really cool. Just don't look down.

What's this flower then?

A Weekend In The Country - Mermaid's Secret, Dominica

2010-04-10T13:05:00.001-07:00

So, here you go, enjoy and don't ask me what the flowers are. However, spot the coffee beans, limes, cocoa, nutmeg, pineapple, cashew nuts (really cool!) etc....It's getting booked up fast....now what are you waiting for?

Midnight Caller

2010-03-15T13:48:00.000-07:00

Do you remember that show that had the sexy voice that always ended with 'Goodnight America wherever you are'? Well Patrick here in Dominica could give him a run for his money. So, here's the thing, local pyromaniac cuts down trees and starts a fire and then goes out. Since there's been no rain since I can't remember when, the fire is very happy and soon reaches heights of over 15 feet and carefully burns through leccy and cable tv wires. Anyway, up turns Blue Watch (who carefully connect up in Caribbean time) and soon the fire's out or is it........

Fast forward 9 hours and I'm home alone and off to bed and I can smell a lot of smoke. So I see from my balcony that the fire has reignited and is now in full swing. So, do I just ignore it or make a phone call to the neighbours and tell someone else, thus absolving myself of all responsibility....No, not so easy, Dominica is the go to bed early nation, no-one answers. (Now there's a comforting thought for a later even more urgent matter). I then wake up the Housekeeper who tells me this 7 digit number to ring for the fire brigade - what happened to good old 999? Anyway, here begins my midnight caller moment.

Good Evening, Roseau Fire Station.

Umm, you know the fire you came to today well it isn't really out.

What do you mean?

Well it's still on fire.

Go and check it for me.

What do you mean - go and check it? I can see it from here I am not going anywhere in my PJ's, with my kids in bed.

Well, what does it look like?

A fire, sort of fire-ish and red-ish and basically flame-ish.
(Clearly not on the first page of the regulation Fire Manual then)

How tall are the flames?

I can't really tell but sort of high-ish and worth checking-ish. (I'm loosing my nerve now). Anyway, I'm not asking you to 'der der der der der der' (fire engine sound ok) all the way up here, just maybe pop in your car and have a look......(I realise now I'm sounding girly and pitiful and should just give up)

Well maybe you could check it every hour or so for us?

WHAT?!

Well I could ring you or you could ring me and you could let me know how it is.

But I'm going to bed.....Anyway, I think I've done my duty so what's your name? (long pause - no-one likes this question unless they're in a bar I guess, maybe)

Well, what's your name? (Ah, checkmate)

(So, we both exchange names and both feel on an even keel now I guess)

Anyway, (I say purposefully), I'm off to bed and I just wanted you to know because I don't want my village to burn down....

Ok, but you ring me back when you want.

Umm, ok......

How much is that chicken in the freezer, the one with the .....

2010-02-21T17:41:00.000-08:00

Well, there's this sort of wholesale place here but there again not really wholesale and their logo is 'we give birth to prices and others raise them'...and no it's not Mothercare. Anyway, my Mum is here and she is keen to get the full shopping experience and has overheard Merlyn (my wonderwoman help) saying we should buy our meat here so here I am forfeiting the equivalent to the M&S Foodhall (ok, never in a million years I know) to Lidl's long distant cousin.

So, here's the setting - 20 x 20ft room, strange tardis like cash desk to your left, huge freezer to your right, small table in the middle with slightly bloodied scales on and then a veritable line up of pen pushing staff on the left hand side. These guys well about 5 women and 1 guy are all very busy writing out invoices with lots of carbon paper and making no eye contact at all. Anyway, I have been here long enough now to not let the no eye contact ruse deter me. So, I grab a guy who's stacking up boxes and say 'Gimme a chicken'. Ok, I don't really say this but this is what I want to say but instead I say:-

Please can I have a couple of chickens?

Yes, what size?

I don't know (Dominican chickens are all one size, trust me). Just give me a couple please, I don't mind.

So, he opens the freezer which has about a foot of frost in it and then a jumbled collection of EVERYTHING - fish, chicken, hams, feet - ok trotters, and lots of things I definitely can't recognise. Anyway, I don't know whether to be helpful and prod around with him or just hold the top of the freezer up. I opt for the latter because I don't want to spot an eye or a nostril. I should actually be vegetarian - in fact if Eric (of Red Rock Haven fame) could cook for me everyday I would be, albeit I'd always make him do chocolate pancakes. Anyway, after lots of digging around, helpful man says:-

Only got one.

That's fine, one will do. How much is it?

I'll have to weigh it.

So, lots of weighing and shouting to one of the girls on the far left side. Is it me or is frozen chicken a lot heavier than fresh. Anyway, it's 25 bucks so I say fine and try and take it. Oh no, I can't do that. I have to go and get the invoice from Lady A. So, I stand there patiently waiting for the carbon copies to be suitably pressed and then I hear the most (ok, along with 'do you understand?') annoying expression here 'Let me tell you'. So, making no eye contact (I'm learning) I ignore this. However, this is followed by perfectly manicured tapping nails on the desk and a slightly louder 'Let me tell you, you can't buy one chicken'. You know what, I didn't even want to buy one chicken, I wanted to get my usual $18 dollar chicken in IGA and queue up and pay for it and leave and have a quiet life. So, now I'm apologising for buying one chicken when all that's in the freezer is ONE CHICKEN. So I look pathetically grateful and hand her my money. No, way too easy, she doesn't take money. So I look to the obvious cash desk that's all enclosed with a glass counter. No, way too easy too. Instead, more tapping and gesticulating from the man three along who has clearly lost his vocal cords. I give him the invoice and the money and of course there is no change. So, I edge towards my chicken which is now nicely defrosting on the crusty scales and am about to pick it up when money man finds his voice 'You must have a bag and take your invoice first'. So I skulk back to get my invoice and then back to the scales. Helpful man finds a bag but won't hand it over until I give him the invoice. Finally, I grab my $25, certainly not wholesale price chicken and leave. Never again. Well so I thought, as Mum pipes up tonight 'I saw a big bag of prawns in there you know, I think we should get them tomorrow'. Umm, well maybe more than one prawn in the bag qualifies for wholesale....maybe.

Parking Ticket

2010-02-02T12:44:00.001-08:00

So, I got my first parking ticket this week. Well, it was only a matter of time - I park too close to corners and sort of breathe in as I am nudging my car as close to the one in front as possible. Then I feel a bit guilty so I sit in my car for a bit to double check that cars can get around the corner that I may have just parked a tad too close too.

So later on I get back to the car and have made someone who is most certainly not a policeman very happy who is there waiting to give me my ticket in case it had blown away from under the wipers. Maybe he's on commission. So he is expecting a big scene and I give him a big smile and admit that when your time's up your time's up. He didn't really understand that comment funnily enough.

Off to the Magistrate's Court I go as why wait the 14 days. Expecting some long slow painful process I am pleasantly surprised when I open the door to the Cashier's Office and no-one is there. The room is something out of Dickens - stacked full of ledgers and papers and everything slightly tilted and wonky and you know at a glance that once something enters this room, it will never ever be found again.

Hello, I've come to pay this'. (passing over my ticket)

'Why?' She says which completly throws me. Why? Well I don't know really really why but I guess it's because I should and it's the right thing to do.

'Umm, because I parked too close to the edge'.

'No, why do you want to pay it today? When did you get it?' She then spots that I got it at 11.20am and now it's 11.30am and she starts sort of shaking every part of her body and then says....

'You don't have to pay it you know, it hasn't been submitted. Why don't you come back in a few weeks time and check again?'

'Check what?' I say, knowing that nothing can ever be double checked in this place again. It would be the ultimate miracle if my A5 sized original ticket ever surfaced again let alone got matched with the possibly submitted one.

'I think I'd just like to pay it now please'.

'As you liking (sic) but I have to tell you now that you really don't have to'.

'Well, I guess it's going to a good cause isn't it?'
(Maybe filling a pothole or two).

Now, she looks at me as if I've gone loopy loo.

'A good cause?'

I realise that there's no point going down this line of conversation afterall so I hand over my $100 and wait for my $25 back.

'Well, I don't want to have to pay $500 in a few weeks time if my papers are all miraculously matched up', I say and she knows she is not going to stop some strange woman insisting on her taking $100 however hard she tries to desist her.

'I don't have change - well I have $20 and $5'.

'Well, I gave you $100 and the change should be $25 so $20 + $5 is right', I gently explain.

'No, the $5 is mine, so you owe me $5'.

'Ok, don't worry, you can just give me $20 and you can keep your $5 no problem'.

'No, I have to give you the right change'.

'Well, when do you want me to bring your $5 back then?' (Will this turn into some increased fixed penalty too if I wait too long I wonder)

'In a few weeks time, will be fine (being the operative word)......Good Day'

Is it me or is my fine now really $80?.

Haysha

2010-01-31T19:05:00.001-08:00

I can't avoid eye contact with people in the road waving their arms at me, so here I am again picking up some slightly unusual looking man carrying quite a few boxes. To put him off I say quite firmly I am just going to the bottom of the mountain. No problem he replies, smiling a lot, so I grudgignly let him in. Then I can't understand a word he says so I ask him where he's from. 'Asia' he replies. 'Oh' I say, pleasantly surprised, I will chat about my back packing days. 'Have you been to Thailand or Hong Kong?'. He looks at me blankly and nods. 'Can you not speak much English?' (I say in the loud slow annoying foreigner to foreigner voice). 'No, I speak Creole & French' That's strange I thought, there must be some French & Creole speaking country in Asia that I don't know about. Not to be deterred, I plough on and ask him if he's on holiday. 'No, I working at Evergreen Hotel'. Oh, ok I thought. Then, as always, I get to where I want to be but then feel all remorseful and ask him exactly where he wants to go. Ten minutes out of my way, I eventually drop him off. He is very grateful and nods a lot and says he is sending all the boxes to his relatives in 'Haysha'. Jolly nice guy I thought but the post will be jolly expensive - he looks at me and asks 'You sent to earthquake too?'. Another OMG moment, he's not Asian, he's Haitian. There I have been wittering on about backpacking the beaches of Asia and all he's concerned about is sending off supplies to his relatives in Haiti. I must learn the local lingo pdq that's for sure.

Well it began with 'R'

2010-01-31T18:38:00.000-08:00

'Mummy Mummy, we need to take Rosemary to school today Sister Annita said', exclaimed my 4 year old breathlessly at 7.30am last Thursday. I am now totally resigned to being given no notice by my kids about anything to do with school and instead fill their bags with whatever requests they like, usually fairly suspect, (did your teacher really say she wanted to see your Hannah Montana guitar shaped sparkly lippy?) but no time to argue as they are rushing out of the door, invariably late. Anyway, Rosemary cool, absolutely no problem whatsoever. My garden would currently make old Hugh Fearnley Whatsit at the www.rivercottage.net even more greeener than he possibly is with envy as it's positively bursting with herbs and produce now. So Rosemary, bring it on, just bring it on. There you go my love, just hold it carefully in the car until you get there. So, I wave everyone off cheerfully because my husband does the morning school run (phew phew phew) and pat myself on the back.

Not so long later, my mobile rings.

'Hey, you got the Rosemary wrong love'
'What do you mean wrong?' (I am visibly bristling at this criticism so early on in the day)
'Well, as we were going into Church (always every Thursday) late, there was a distinct lack of any other 4 year olds carrying Rosemary'
'Oh well, (me positively bursting with pride now and patting myself on the back), no-one else probably could grow any'
'No, I don't think it's Rosemary they wanted'
'Are you sure?'
'Well, put it like this, as I handed Scarlett over to her teacher and she squeezed alongside the pew, all her classmates were clutching something else that sounds similar.....'
'Similar? Rocket? Well what?'
'Those necklaces with crosses on...'
'OMG, a ROSARY'

Umm, not so self-satisfied smug yummy green mummy now, afterall.

He Could Be From Here For Sure!

2010-01-17T17:52:00.000-08:00

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Nsv2LrdXf1Y

New Balcony & Chocolate (again again I know I know!)

2010-01-15T04:30:00.000-08:00

So, builders builders builders, one of the most popular questions I get asked and the most stories you hear the world over though, of things that went horribly wrong. Anyway, I know two sets of great builders - one that builds in the Dominican way and by this I mean with Dominican finishes and the other with more European finishes so we are currently revamping parts of the house to combine the best of both. So the 'when in Rome' expression will become 'when in Dominica but with a touch of Dubai'. I have friends though that have built importing absolutely everything and there's a fully functional American dream house here that Martha Stewart would be proud of and another friend is starting the process and importing everything from the UK. Her house will be STUNNING (pressure's on KS!) and will combine European perfection set amongst Dominican beauty.

Until you live here you don't realise how important outside space is, however, until you live here you don't realise how much rain there is. So you need outside space that is waterproof. So, this is our latest addition.

ps The chocolates were an amazing gift yesterday from a very very nice person who has just relocated....every new balcony needs some......and nice and normal relocators!!

Short & sweet, sort of...

2010-01-03T18:25:00.000-08:00

Whale Watching

2010-01-03T17:37:00.000-08:00

Whale watching is like diving here - people can't believe it if you don't experience both frequently. Well, whale watching being marginally less effort we ventured out today. So first of all we are on a very small boat because the posh, ensuite bathroom, full bar & massage area (possibly) large boat is catering to the equally large cruise market. Our boat has 13 people including 5 kids and are all European sized. So, I get on and can't hear a word of the briefing because the engine is so loud. However, I do hear rum punch and smile and nod encouragingly like people do when they are in a herd situation.

An hour in and I'm telling the kids what a lovely boat trip this in and there's plenty more whales in the sea as it were and never mind we spot absolutely nothing when suddenly we are completely surrounded - ok there were 7 huge (derrr of course they are) whales all around us. The excitement level on the boat is fever pitch and all I'm thinking is why don't they just give us a little nudge. You know you read all these stories where animals suddenly 'turn' - tigers jump out of zoo cages, lions turn on their trainers and so forth. So here we are, in a tiny, insignificant, very light boat because it's full of skinny people and one day these guys are going to get bored and say hello, come on down, literally. So, next thing is that they swim right underneath the boat (thank heavens it's not glass bottomed) and give us a handprint - cool hey - this is actually a tailprint - when their tail hits the sea it does give a print. (No I didn't get a picture ok).

On the way back, we travel at speed and I mean speed, get completely soaked and the boat is on a fairly alarming angle. During this, the crew remain looking steadfastly ahead whilst clearly thinking how many can we lose on the way back - well it must get boring for them, there again maybe not, it's not everyday you can eyeball a whale is it. Wow wow wow!

Learn from yesterday, live for today, hope for tomorrow

2010-01-01T17:48:00.000-08:00

So, Happy Happy New Year! It's that time of year when I get the most enquiries and bookings for here and elsewhere. One incentive is that I give 10% off all bookings paid for in full by 31st January (but try not to spend it all before the 31st March 2010) and secondly I guess when it's freezing cold and dark most of the day it's nice to have some hot destination to look forward to. However, I guarantee the day your holiday starts you are guaranteed to have a complete personality bypass:

Personality Bypass

This non-surgical procedure
Should be avoided at all costs
If your personality is bypassed
You won’t realise what you’ve lost!

It can happen quite by accident
To anyone it’s true
And before you know it, nobody
Can see the happy you!

Firstly you forget to smile
Deep furrows line your brow
You used to laugh and giggle
Now you can’t remember how!

What causes this phenomenon?
Can herbal teas assist?
How can you just turn back the clock?
Recapturing laughs you’ve missed?

Well first you wrinkle up your nose
Practise a wink or two
Then each day ask “How is your world?”
“How’s life been treating you”?

Responses may be minimal
But you’ll feel better “Oh yes indeed”
And you’ll avoid being “personality bypassed”
Of that you’re guaranteed!

Anyway, as usual I digress. So this starts at the airport when you stand in line and check your documents in some OCD like manner. Leave your purse in the washroom and then buy a load of stuff that might 'just in case' become handy on the plane and after. However, this is all in the realms of acceptable and the full on alarm bells actually completely kick in whilst you are in fact meant to be completely horizontal on holiday and instead you remain in a somewhat vertical state. Therefore, before you book this year, just ask yourself the follwoing questions:

Do you find holidays to be reinvigorating, relaxing and refreshing?

Do you return home feeling rejuvenated and with your batteries recharged?

Or, is it just one big headache and you can't wait to get back to "normal", sleep in your own bed and slot back into a comfortable routine?

Holidays can be challenging experiences. We step out of our normal environment with the aim of a pleasurable experience. Our expectations are often set by glossy brochures or travel programmes showing idyllic settings, beautiful scenery or even the promise of adventures in wild places. But, are we up to the reality of the challenges ahead or do we set ourselves up for disillusionment and disappointment? How much excess baggage do we take on holiday and how much complete rubbish do we bring back. Yes, a conch shell does look lovely in a bright blue plantation house in the Caribbean but covered in snow on a doorstep in Swindon, perhaps not. And, drinking rum & coke back home on a wet & windy day? I think not.

Reality can quickly take away the rose coloured spectacles of the view of the "wild places" when basic needs are delivered via "basic methods" - dig your own toilet perhaps or carry your own rubbish and of course accept that it's only the British that queue...

Even if you opted for a luxury villa in a tropical paradise, you might still find yourself catering for the family, but without the familiar equipment or having to use "foreign ingredients". Challenges come thick and fast. From truculent children who will NOT eat anything but their favourite brand of breakfast cereal, to the intricacies of foreign plumbing systems - such as what times of the day you can expect hot water (or sometimes any water!) let alone electricity.

Then there are the "decision dilemmas" - a group of people on holiday trying to make a collective decision about where they are going next is often painful. As with all committees, the end result is usually a choice that no-one particularly wanted but which had the least objections all round. That's of course if you managed to make a decision in time to go anywhere at all!

Add to that, cultural and language differences and it is easy to feel like a fish out of water. As expectations for the holiday and the reality of it start to diverge, the inner tension levels can soon start to rise and will leak out in many ways.

Personalities often change on holiday!

Some people suddenly become the main song and dance act, trying to impress everyone. Others may withdraw into a little "leave me alone" shell and only come out at feeding time. Some may try and "fit in" with the culture and customs of the new environment without any clue about how or why and become more of a hindrance than a help.

Some of this can be laid at the door of complete insecurity. Dealing with a new environment, having to relate in new ways with people you may only see occasionally, or even with total strangers, can bring forth bizarre inner demons. Insecurity, means that there is an inner need to bolster one's self esteem. Children will be more obvious about their demand for attention in order to "feel good" using someone else's energy, but adults have learned far more subtler albeit unpleasant ways to do this.

For example, competitiveness - who can be the most extreme? Who can drink the most, have the loudest most annoying voice, have the biggest hangover, swim the furthest, wear the sexiest bikini, etc... Being "the best" or "having an opinion about everything" puts you at the centre of everyone's attention and lapping up their energy.

And, for those who don't join the "competing games", the opposite ploy is often a total withdrawal, tummy bugs, headaches, illnesses that attract attention in the form of sympathy and some TLC. These aren't necessarily scheming strategies and the players are most likely not even aware of their actions, but they are an inner response at a sub-conscious level to feelings of insecurity.

Another aspect of personality change on holiday is the release of the controls on "normal behaviour". The brakes are off, indulgence is the name of the game and on holiday "I can do what I want, eat/drink what I want, say whatever I like, NO LIMITS!"

But, just as freewheeling downhill can be exhilarating and exciting, it can also be dangerous if you aren't able to steer where you want to go. That's when you might discover the brick wall of reality and "wham, what hit me, where did those kilos come from, where did the black eye come from, how did I end up becoming this bitter and twisted!"

Those people who feel restricted in their normal environment by parents/spouse/responsibilities/etc.. are often the ones who just "let rip" when freed from their shackles. They are also usually the ones who need another holiday after their holiday to recover!

Holidays are a great opportunity for self-awareness.

Returning back home to our "normal" routines, there is an opportunity to reflect on our behaviour on holiday, did we "like" ourselves, did we discover another side to our personality that we weren't aware of, did we discover hidden talents?

We can reflect on the difference to our "norm", and consider if there are aspects of our life that could do with some change? Perhaps we have also become aware of a bigger picture than our own life. Maybe, understood a different culture, experienced a different way and can now ask ourselves pertinent questions about how we might improve our life, our environment, our relationships and overall ourselves?

Or perhaps we just returned home with a sense of gratitude for what we do have and for the people that are part of our lives.

Holidays give perspective, if you are willing to stand back and look.

They may be an escape in the short term, but can also be life changing for the longer term.

Here's to your holiday this year, wherever you may go.

Greener Grass?

2009-11-30T11:37:00.000-08:00

Eustace Maxim thought I might be the cable technician. An appointment had been made for no definite time, so there was nothing to do but wait. But from the vantage point of his veranda in Jimmit, with its panoramic view of the Caribbean Sea, there are worse places you can watch the world go by. When he thinks of what he'd be doing now if he'd retired in Plaistow, east London, he says, "If I was in England, all I would be doing is staying home and watching television."

Instead he is back on the island of Dominica, the place where he was born, which he left and to which he has now returned. The end point on a lifelong project across oceans, aspirations, cultures and generations that has landed him pretty much right back where he started. His story is a common one. "I left Dominica when I was 23," says Maxim, 72. "Going to England was a means to an end. I never intended to spend so long there. I wanted something better for my children, and everyone was going at that time."

Like many, if not most, his plan was to go, make some money and come back a few years later. But the work he found at Ford, Standard and Cable and finally as a security guard for the Royal Bank of Scotland was barely enough to sustain the life he had, let alone provide savings for the one he dreamed of. "The gold fell from very high in the sky," wrote John Berger, in A Seventh Man, of the immigrant experience in Europe. "And so when it hit the earth it went down very, very deep."

So Maxim, who left in 1960 and came back in 2004, kept digging. "Five years is very little. You go to achieve something. You don't want to come back worse off than when you left." While he was in England, he made a life. Children, then grandchildren came, and 43 years passed. And he kept squirrelling away so he might first buy land, then build and finally return. "It was a hard life," he says. "You try to make yourself as comfortable as you can. It was not a difficult decision to come back, but I used to worry about not coming back."

In the end he spent longer in England than he has in Dominica. There are signs of England everywhere: despite the heat, his carpets are thick, his sofa fluffy. On the walls are pictures of his offspring in graduation finery. But no matter how long he was away, Dominica, he insists, was always home. He never considered himself English, and after four decades his accent doesn't carry the slightest trace of it. "There is a freedom I feel here," he says. "I have the hot sunshine on my back and can have a dip in the river or the hot springs."

Maxim may never have considered himself English and may now feel home, but not everyone sees it like that. Some in Dominica brand him an outsider, yet another returnee with their airs and graces – English ways and English money.

"People say this, people say that." He shrugs. "I ignore it. They think you have all the money in the world. You try to tell them what you had to go through to get it, but they don't want to listen."

The generation of Caribbeans who transformed Britain economically, politically and culturally after the war are nearing the end of their working lives. Like Maxim, many are now fulfilling a long-deferred dream to return to the countries from which they came. Figures to support the scale of this return are patchy. Many returnees have dual citizenship and, given family ties, few have broken with Britain definitively. But anecdotally, the evidence is overwhelming. My own father was one of 10 children, my mother one of six; both were born in Barbados. Of those 16, 11 left for the US, Canada or the UK. Today, all but one has bought land to build on and six have already returned, one way or another. All across the island, crates are arriving, new houses being built and returnees' associations springing up. And just as their arrival radically altered Britain, so their return is having a considerable effect on the Caribbean. "We were pioneers when we left and we are pioneers now we have come back," says Franklyn Georges, who left in 1960 and returned in 2006.

During the 90s, foreign remittances in Jamaica – a large proportion of which are pensions and other moneys coming into returnees – comprised a larger percentage of GDP than foreign currency earners such as bauxite and sugar. In 1997, almost £6m in pension payments went to Barbados, while both St Lucia and Grenada each got £2m.

The smaller the island, the more noticeable the impact. Dominica's domestic population has stayed constant at around 70,000 for the last few decades as people kept emigrating. Today, more Dominicans live abroad – primarily in the UK, US and Guadeloupe, which is part of France – than at home. As time goes on, the potential demographic, economic and political clout of returnees can only grow. Little wonder, then, that there is tension between those who stayed and those who left.

"There is a little back and forth," says John McIntyre, minister for trade, industry, consumer and diaspora affairs, "just like in any family." But there is little doubt who he thinks is primarily responsible for the friction. "When they land, they imagine someone will put a crown on their head. They dress in the UK style. But if you walk down to Roseau [the capital] in a jacket and tie, people will laugh at you. They've been away a long time. This is not the Dominica they left. The local people are not necessarily against them, they just don't know them. We try to bridge the gap. But don't think you're going to hear bells when you come back. When they left, England was on the rise, but over the last few years people are going to Venezuela, Cuba and China for education and opportunities, not England."

He has a point. Shortly before Jean Popeau left the island in 1957, aged 11, his headmaster made him stand up in front of the class. "He was one of those old colonial headmasters," says Popeau, who is putting the finishing touches to his new house. "Very stuck in the old-fashioned ways. A regular caner – an austere, distant man."

"Boy, you're going to be a big shot," the headmaster said. "Going to England was the opening of a door," Popeau says. "The future was yours. I remember Empire Day, parading round the village."

The UK is no longer the presence here that it once was. In McIntyre's anteroom there are two magazines: Beijing Review and Latin Trade. England's historical presence is felt everywhere – from his building you can see the Windsor Park cricket stadium and Roseau's grammar school, while Princess Margaret hospital is just a short drive away – but the evidence of new economic relationships is no less prevalent: the stadium, grammar school and road were all built by the Chinese, who also refurbished the hospital.

Even though none of those I spoke to says they ever felt "English", nearly all have spent more time in England than they have in Dominica, and this has inevitably left its mark on them. They have become accustomed to a different level of efficiency, standard of living and pace of life. "I've been called English without even opening my mouth," said Popeau in Polly Pattullo's Home Again. "I wonder how they can work it out. Perhaps you're brisker in your walk, more purposeful." Popeau has a season ticket to the British Library, where he goes to concerts and free films whenever he is back. He may have felt alienated from British identity, but in all sorts of ways he was embedded in its culture.

Returnees do, at times, sound like expats with disdainful attitudes towards the locals. They complain about the service, some miss their favourite soaps and get frustrated by the relative insularity of a small island. Referring to Dominican politicians, one returnee says: "The standard of leadership here is very low. These guys were banana pickers one day, then they are elected to government the next. They are unimaginative."

Georges, 72, goes one step further. "We who travelled abroad got to know a lot about ourselves that we wouldn't have known if we had stayed at home. We have a wider perspective and those who stayed have a narrower one." They are, he says, "ignorant", and he blames the government for failing to educate them politically.

Many returnees, including Georges, concede they might have an attitude problem. "Sometimes it's not Dominica, it's us," says Kenneth Bruney, who left for England in 1964 and returned in 1997. "Some of us come back and expect to find Marks & Spencer and John Lewis. I'd tell anyone who wants to come back, you should realise you are returning to Dominica. You can't leave England and expect to find three tins of baked beans for 99 cents."

Bruney recalls seeing returners embroiled in confrontation before they had barely set foot in the country, bristling at questions from the customs officer and responding disrespectfully. "The man's doing his job. Talk to him like a human being and he'll behave like a human being. If you don't, you're going to have trouble."

But the image minister McIntyre conjured, of returnees swaggering through Roseau suited and booted like country squires, is ludicrous. Most made frequent trips back while living abroad, so are well aware of how the country has changed and what the living conditions are like. With the exception of one journey to Canada, the only trips Bruney took while in England were to Dominica.

"It's ridiculous to suggest we don't know what it's like, because people come back all the time," Popeau says. "When you return to the Caribbean, you have to leave behind the kind of comfort zone you grew accustomed to." And since most return to the villages where they grew up, people do know them. "People know my parents and my family. My sister came back 10 years ago," Popeau says. "Word gets around that you are from here, and that makes acceptance much easier."

Indeed, in many ways McIntyre's language tells a story. The whole time they have been in England, these returnees have clung to the notion that the place they were from – Dominica – was home, as opposed to the place where they lived. "England was good to me, but I always yearned to come back," Bruney says. When he told a Scottish friend he was going "home" for Christmas, the friend was perplexed. "From a family point of view, England is home," Bruney says, "but from a national point of view, it's not. So when I go to Dominica I'm going home; when I go back to England I'm going back to England. People can say what they like about me there, but they can't here because I'm 101% Domin ican." Yet now they are "home", the minister with responsibility for resettling them talks in terms of "us" (Dominicans) and "them" (returnees).

The roads in Dominica wind, curve, dip and rise with such severity that even a short drive will rid a visitor of their bearings. Heading in and out of forests, mountains and valleys, skirting streams and groves is like being on a rollercoaster through an enormous botanical garden that happens to have its own flag and government. In the shadow of Mount Diablo, Bruney shoos away the goats that are eating the plants on his lawn. He also has turkeys, chicken, sheep and pigs.

He was 22 when he left Dominica. "In those days, everyone was going away. We always felt the pastures were greener, we read books about the mother country, so it was a surprise to see all these terraced houses, chimneys and smoke. I was expecting a wealthier, cleaner country."

In Dominica he had been a teacher, and he wanted to join the RAF in the UK. But he met his wife, started a family and ended up working as a clerk for British Rail for 29 years. When he got made redundant, he came back almost immediately. "Money can't compensate for the time I spend here in Dominica," he says.

What would he be doing if he had stayed in England? "I can visualise myself being stuck indoors watching TV and vegetating. What can you do during the winter?"

The weather comes up a lot. While talk of home and the issues of belonging are real, sometimes what you hear are working-class English people who have a more meaningful place to go to than Spain. The fact that they are at "home" only enhances the sense of achievement they feel when they reach the end of their working life and have something to show for it.

Even so, there was a moment shortly after he returned when Bruney briefly regretted coming back. A huge container, holding the bulk of his possessions from England, arrived and the shipping company insisted it had to transport it to his house because it was insured. En route, the lorry overturned, destroying most of what he needed to start his new life. The company refused to compensate him. Even though it was an open-and-shut case, it took him 11 years to get his money back.

Many of the points of tension between returnees and locals are very real problems such as this that have nothing to do with identity. Most have tales of frustrating experiences with the legal system, being cheated while trying to build their house or being otherwise disrespected by bureaucrats. These are frustrations other Dominicans presumably share, but because the returnees have moved back, they are more likely than most to be dealing with bureaucracy and builders.

There are very real income disparities between returnees and locals, too. There are no obvious signs of abject poverty in Dominica – the country is too bountiful for anyone to go hungry – but it is still a poor country with an unemployment rate around 20% and a per capita GDP of £6,000. To buy the land and build a decent-sized house from scratch costs around £90,000. If you worked in the public sector in England, bought your own council house in the 90s and sold it a few years ago, you could retire here in relative wealth and comfort.

"No matter how humble your job might have been, that is a factor you have to deal with," Popeau says. "You can live like a minister here," says Georges, who worked for the Post Office and the railways, and became mayor of Waltham Forest. For some, the shift from struggling to get by to being regarded as wealthy is difficult to fathom. "They think we're rich. I don't think I'm rich," says Helena Durand, 63, who left Dominica in 1959 and came back in 1997. "I don't think of myself as rich at all. But I don't know how people here manage with a family." You can see why returnees would be annoyed at people trying to charge them higher prices for things because they think they have a lot of money, but it is also not difficult to see why local people might try it.

Moreover, in Dominica memories of colonialism are still quite fresh. The country didn't gain independence until 1978, so when the returnees are accused of "acting English", the phrase has connotations that go beyond geography. "To be called English is a slur," Popeau says. "It can be very annoying. It associates you in shorthand with having Anglo-Saxon colonial attitudes, which is pretty ironic because we spent a lot of our working lives fighting those attitudes."

Indeed, the discrepancy between self-perception and appearance feels like just one of a series of misunderstandings inherent in this journey. What local people have seen is people leave, build relatively large houses and return to a grand retirement. What they don't see are the decades in between. It's as though the long hours, the racial humiliations, the sense of alienation and dislocation are all buried under the newly bought land, then built over.

What returnees see is the place they have pined for, sent money back to and otherwise emotionally and financially invested in, keep them at arm's-length. What they sometimes fail to recognise is the degree to which both they and Dominica have changed, and the extent to which they will have to navigate those changes to reintegrate comfortably.

Those who stayed and those who left, to some extent, clash horns because of a colossal mistranslation. Thanks to the global inequalities of wealth, the fruits of a working-class life in England are converted into the retirement of the privileged; the natural process of acculturation is understood as a sign of haughtiness; the desire to see improvement in the place they have returned to is taken as an implicit slight on the attitudes that have prevailed while they were away.

Some emigrants were too embarrassed about their life abroad to say how difficult it was. On their return, some built houses with perimeter walls and curtains locals took as a sign that they didn't want to mix; having spent so long in cities, getting used to the less private, more convivial nature of village life took some adjustments.

These misunderstandings, compounded by the possibly unbridgeable differences that have emerged over a working life abroad, deepen the friction. This was clearly illustrated by an incident Bruney related when a car ahead of him stopped in the middle of a narrow road so the driver could chat with someone on the street. No one could pass. Bruney said he waited a while before his patience, and the patience of others before him, wore out. He asked the driver to move.

"Shut up, you foreigner," the driver replied.

"I was born and bred here," Bruney told the man. "I am more of a Dominican than you are. While I was away I was probably keeping you by sending money back."

When I finish at Eustace Maxim's house, he sees me to the gate and stands there. The cable technician has still not come to fix his computer so he can communicate with his grandkids. I ask if he's expecting him in the morning or evening.

"Just sometime," he says. "But I'm retired. I can wait. He'll come sometime. Praise be to God."

Courtesy, Gary Younge, The Guardian

Just another week in paradise....

2009-11-28T19:11:00.000-08:00

THE DRINKS RUN

Two crates of Kubuli and two crates of soft drinks please.

What softs do you want?

One Coke and one crate half Fanta and half Sprite.

Are you sure?

Yes, please.

Payment follows.

Much printing, stamping, tearing, sorting and shuffling.
Finally I get my piece of paper and hand it over to the drinks despatcher.

You can't have that.

Why not?

We don't have it.

So, I have paid for something you don't have?

Much shouting at Maggie who sold it to me followed by Maggie shouting over:-

You really want Coke/Sprite/Fanta?

Yes, I nod enthusiastically. (Maybe there's a secret stash somewhere).

You sure?

Yes.

Well, why don't you choose some Quenchi's instead?

So, you sold me something you don't have?

Err, yes, I thought you'd change your mind once you'd got over there......

Is it me.....

CHICKENS

The chickens went on strike this week. There was no chick chat and they snubbed my food and tore up my nicely laid down newspaper. I think they've grown out of their equivalent to baby rusks. So back to the chicken shop. In here I have this nonsensical (but quite frankly most are here) conversation with around three people which clearly reveals I know sod all about chicks/chickens/chicken food etc.

Anyway, I tell them, fairly confidently, I want real food for them and not musty sawdust. I then spot some great stuff marked 'layers'. I want that I say. No, you can't I'm told they're not laying yet. Well, they'll never lay at this rate on hunger strike. Ok, can I have the food between baby dust and layer? No, we've run out. Gimme (see, I'm learning) layer then. No, they're not old enough. Ok, if you give me the layer, I'll wait a few weeks until they are laying age. Well, you can't have a full bag. (Why not, who cares I think). Ok, what can I have? Half a bag. Ok. Thanks.....

BUILDERS

Extension is going up super quick - mind you, is that really a good sign...slow and sturdy vis-a-vis quick and flimsy. Anyway, I was given the glossy brochure this week to choose the roof colour. I mean, it's not that interesting and I'm not going to see the roof much, unless it blows off of course, but I narrowed it down to the 3 least offensive/in your face colours. Brochure was duly collected on Friday. Did you choose? Yes, these ones. Ok, great but it's going to be Dark Green. Dark Green? Yes, that's the only one in stock.

Gone Bananas.....by John Stepek

2009-11-23T05:54:00.001-08:00

After 16 bitter years, the banana wars between Europe and America are ending. But what on earth were they and why does it matter?

The banana wars could be about to end. "Thank the Lord," I hear you say. Get the bunting out for the street parties! This dreadful war is finally at an end!

Well, maybe not. In fact, you're probably thinking: "Banana wars? What?"

But you'd be amazed at the trouble the humble banana has caused in its time. On this occasion, we're talking about a trade spat that goes back to 1993.

That makes it the world's longest-running trade dispute. The roots and causes of the banana wars go far deeper than this, but people have written whole books on this topic, so I'll not get into that right now (check out a site such as Bananalink).

Banana wars redux
Here's what the current dispute comes down to. The European Union gives favourable terms to banana growers in its former colonies in Africa, the Caribbean and Pacific region (ACP).

Basically, it charges import tariffs (taxes) on bananas imported from everywhere else, to protect prices for the ACP region. The idea was to help Europe's ex-colonies using favourable trade terms so they wouldn't need direct overseas aid.

The US complained to the World Trade Organisation (WTO). The US doesn't export bananas to Europe, but Latin America does and the banana crop there is controlled by US multinationals. The US reckoned this subsidy was unfair on the Latin American producers, and the WTO - which polices world trade - agreed. It told the EU to stop it in 1997.

Tit for tat tactics
The EU changed its rules. The US didn't think it had gone far enough. The WTO has been forced to rule against the EU on this topic six times since the dispute kicked off.

Now it looks as if - although it's not certain - the EU and Latin America have come to an agreement. Tariffs will be lowered over the course of seven years, to the point where Europe's former colonies are no longer given favourable terms.

Cheap bananas for all
So there'll be more competition in the banana market and consumers will end up getting cheaper bananas - good news, right?

In theory, yes. Anyone who reads my columns even occasionally will know that I believe in capitalism, free markets and all the rest.

That's not because I'm a viciously competitive borderline psychopath who thinks the weak should be crushed under the jackboot of the strong, which is the vague impression that I think some people get of capitalism.

It's because I think it's the best way we know to help everyone in the world improve their standard of living. It's like democracy - it's got plenty of faults, but it's better than all the other systems we've tried so far.

Why's free trade a good thing?
The basic idea behind free trade is this: you want to eat oranges and apples, I want to eat oranges and apples. We could each grow our own supply. But my garden is great for growing apples and rubbish for growing oranges. Yours is great for oranges, but a nightmare for apples.

So rather than me wasting valuable time and money struggling to grow oranges, I just devote my whole garden to apples. You do the same with oranges. Then we trade our surplus with each other.

That way we both benefit from a higher standard of living: we've saved ourselves time and energy by focusing on what we're good at and we still have all the apples and oranges we need. Broaden the theory out to countries, and that's pretty much the idea behind free trade.

And it does work. It's one of the main reasons why China and emerging markets have managed to get a lot richer in recent years. It's not a panacea, and it does have losers - just ask your average blue-collar American worker - but as whole, the global standard of living improves.

So this "victory" in the banana wars is a good thing, right?
Well, not necessarily. For capitalism to work most effectively, the rules should apply to everyone. Unfortunately, they don't. Trade across the world is rife with protectionism and special interests and it's particularly bad in the agriculture sector.

I'm not saying this represents a failure of free trade or capitalism. You can free markets up bit by bit, increase the size of your trading blocs and gradually spread the benefits across larger areas. But this deal doesn't strike me as being the right place to start.

The EU imports about four million tonnes of bananas a year. Of that, 3.4 million already comes from Latin America. So the big companies already control a vast chunk of the banana trade. Meanwhile, a vast chunk of the Caribbean islands' economies relies on banana farming, for example.

Tough, you might think, that's competition for you. They should be growing something else. Well, that'd be fine, but it's not that simple.

Because although we might be looking at scrapping tariffs on bananas, the big protectionist measures still around - the European Common Agricultural Policy being a prime example, although US biofuel subsidies are another one - are still in place and heavily defended by their beneficiaries.

So whatever this is, it's not a level playing field.

Supporting the needy
Now to be fair, seven years is a fairly long time to get to adapt to these changes, and they've been on the cards for a long time. The ACP countries will also get about €190 million in aid to sweeten the deal.

However, the ACP countries may have another ace up their sleeve - Fairtrade, which sources many of its bananas from the Windward Islands in the Caribbean.

Now, I think that Fairtrade is a sticking plaster rather than a solution. Ultimately, it's just another subsidy, paid for by the consumer, and it's a bad idea for these countries' economies to be so reliant on one crop - particularly given that it is vulnerable to destruction by disease and weather. They should diversify in any way they can.

However, if you want to exercise your freedom of choice as a consumer to buy a banana which includes an element of charitable giving and, dare I say it, ethical shopping, then I'm certainly not going to discourage you from doing so.

And while European farmers are still being given huge subsidies under the Common Agricultural Policy, effectively robbing developing world farmers of their livelihoods, I can't really describe the end of the banana wars, with the potential impact on poor farmers in developing markets, as a real victory for free trade.

John Stepek is the editor of MoneyWeek

River Rush

2009-11-19T12:08:00.000-08:00

So, what makes the perfect Sunday in the Caribbean?

Ok, here goes:-

Bucks Fizz @ EC$10

Brunch - too good to describe

Live Jazz - fab

Kids - never saw them

So, there you have it, www.river-rush.com
Lovely hosts, great staff, amazing surroundings.

If only, they had a copy of the News of the World too hey.....

Neighbours, everybody needs good neighbours, just a friendly wave each morning helps to make a better day....

2009-11-18T05:47:00.000-08:00

Ok, the neighbour thing. Who really likes their neighbours? On the surface we're all sugary sweet 'oh yes, we get on so well' - interesting that, the same phrase used by so many just as they are heading to the divorce courts. Here, it's a case of twitching plantation shutters swiftly followed up by 'what are you doing there?'. Then before breath can be taken 'Well, I wouldn't recommend that, oh no, you should really do it this way'. So much so, that our 3 chickens, which we have had for 4 weeks have been moved 8 times - in fact, they must now be entitled to Chickports (sic). Anyway, all interest has been lost in the chickens now, a chicken's not just for Christmas you know, and I am left wondering why I cannot just continue to buy 12 FREE RANGE eggs for EC$7 dollars a week. However, when the first one drops (and, yes why doesn't it break?), I will feel all self sufficient and smug with a touch of eco thrown in too no doubt.

Anyway, back to the neighbours. The main concern here is not you parking 2 inches in front of their house, letting your garden overgrow (a capital punishment crime in Belgium), it's letting your trees grow too high and thereby blocking someone's view somewhere on the mountain.

So, to keep everyone happy we gave all our trees a short back and sides, cleared up the mess - I have 101 logs should anyone be feeling a bit chilly - and everyone can see the sea again, hurrah, clearly it's not as large as I thought it was....

However, one of our more eccentric (ok, completely looney, ex Beauty Queen and clearly beauty does not come from within these days) neighbours tries to find any excuse to send her equally deranged pot smoking gardener down onto our plot. This is cool but a tad alarming when the machete weilding force gets into full swing. So this is how it goes:-

Me (using my best Queen's English): You should really ask me before you come into the garden, you know.

Him: I just chopping.

Me: Cool. You chop away but clear up the mess please.

Him: I just doin' as I'm told. (Hyena laugh follows).

Me: Yes, but if you were told to jump off a cliff, (hopefully this one), would you
do it?

Him: Uuuh?

Me: Never mind. Just clear up will you.

Him: (Hyena laugh).

So today, I have a branches everywhere which I (ok not really me) have to chuck over the mountain myself. Buy hey, all the neighbours can see the sea. Phew.

And What Do You Want To Be When You Grow Up? JUST SAY NO!

2009-10-28T15:39:00.001-07:00

So, living on top of the moutain, I get to be a shuttle service really. All sorts come and go and I never have a clue if I see the same person twice - must open my eyes more. During these trips my passenger door handle has been broken three times and I have given out more donations than I care to recall. Me and my friend Tim here are shortly going to enrol at the 'Learn to say no' school.

Anyway, yesterday I got flagged down at the bus stop which is rare as these folks usually are there for a reason. Anyway, this is how it went:-

Hi, how are you? (that's me)

Good Morning.

Going to the bottom?

Yes.

At this point I never know whether to continue conversations or not, generally it's not as thats when I get guided into donation mode. However, I was feeling chatty, no it doesn't come naturally.

So, what do you do for a living?

I'm a drugs dealer.

Oh, that's nice. I CAN'T BELIEVE I JUST SAID THAT. Now I feel so nervous, sweating or rather glowing as my high school teacher would say that's what girls do, almost as if I'm on a first date and I must say the right thing at all costs. Think think think. Be cool.

Oh, been doing that long?

Yes, I grow my own weed.

Oh right, does it grow high? DOES IT GROW HIGH - WHAT SORT OF STUPID COMMENT IS THAT AND NOW I SOUND LIKE I'M ENCOURAGING THIS COTTAGE INDUSTRY. RIGHT, I AM A LAW ABIDING CITIZEN SO I AM GOING TO SAY SOMETHING LAW ABIDING CITIZEN LIKE RIGHT NOW.

You don't sell to kids to you?

No.

Oh well, that's good but I still don't agree with it you know. WHAT DOES THAT MEAN - DON'T AGREE WITH IT. I SOUND LIKE I AM PROTESTING ABOUT THE PRICE OF LECCY. WHAT DOES HE CARE WHAT I THINK ANYWAY.

It's good business M'aam.

GOOD, AT LEAST HE CALLED ME THAT - HE KNOWS I AM OLD AND SENSIBLE. NOW I THINK SHOULD I TRY AND MEMORISE HIS FEATURES FOR DOMINICA CRIMEWATCH. TALL, DARK, SUNGLASSES AND STRANGE PUDDING HAT. THAT SHOULD DO THE TRICK, THEY WILL CATCH HIM IMMEDIATELY.

Right, I say, in my best bossy voice, I am stopping here, out you get. I have never said 'out you get' to anyone but it seemed appropriate here.

Thanks, see you around.

GOSH, NOT IF I SEE YOU FIRST I THOUGHT BUT NODDED ENCOURAGINGLY, SORT OF.

Never a dull moment hey.

24 Hour Pass

2009-10-28T05:06:00.000-07:00

So, my Dad came over for 3 weeks to see us and stayed in the Shack. He had one major complaint in that the bed was tooooo big. How can a bed be too big? Answers on a postcard please. Apart from that he had a good time I think and the kids kept him busy. He actually managed to juggle playing 3 different games with 3 different kids simultaneously. Pretty impressive. Anyway, I thought I'd accompany him on his departure to Barbados. This is the longest I have every remained anywhere without leaving the country....what does that say?....that I haven't got island fever I guess....cool.

The new airport here is sort of finished and check in went well. However you then have to work out where departures is and eventually you have this Alice in Wonderland moment and find a little green door with no clue what's on the other side. Nervously opening it, I spot an x-ray machine and a uniformed lady with very bright red lipstick who beckons me through. A combination of travelling LIAT and the ultimate joy of not being accompanied by children meant I was travelling with no luggage only a rucksack. What could go wrong? So, the bag goes through and gets opened. You can't take water unless you put it in a clear plastic bag - no funnily enough I am not carrying one of those - can I carry it? - no - ok, fair enough. Can I buy it in the departure lounge? - no - so I have to sit here for 3 hours without a drink - yes, but you can go back outside again. Ok, we went back outside for an hour. Back again - same lady - same x-ray - no offending water. You can't take both face creams. What do you mean I can't take both? You can take one. (Absolutely no point arguing with this logic, I have been here long enough to know that). Now, is my big dilemma - do I drop my Clarins Beauty Flash Balm (which I have had for 11 years - gosh, that's a worry, it's probably gone toxic) or do I drop my No.7 Protect & Perfect BRAND NEW tube. As you can tell, Beauty Flash Balm comes out on special occasions and this was special, so No.7 can go. Customs lady could do with it anyway.

Next - my handbag. My handbag was full of complete rubbish - half-eaten sweets semi wrapped in sticky tissue. 101 broken tipped pencils. Loads of Brizees gift vouchers which I never understand what to do with. And, the offending item - a pair of scissors. Customs lady logic kicks back in - this is the deal - you can keep these but don't use them on the aircraft. Err, okeydokey. See, absolutely no point retaliating with logic.

Flight is delayed of course but all credit to LIAT as they do a super quick turnaround and we leave in darkness (eek no lights at this airport) at 6pm. Knock on effect was a very late arrival at the hotel in Barbados. The promise of a night propping up the bar and having a long leisurely dinner soon evaporates when entering the hotel it became apparent that it is overrun by a half-term school group from the UK and their teachers. Both seemed to be propping up each other by this stage. It was at this point, we should have gone to a restaurant but Dad had been raving about the great fish dinner he had had at the same place and it shouldn't be missed. Also mash potato. Ours is a mash free house because my husband has brainwashed everyone into hating it. So this would be my mash moment. In the end, we went via Reception (she felt sorry for us) to order our drinks and food. One and a half hours later it arrived and I must say our fish & mash dream meal was fab. We ate it in 4 minutes. Clearly, there had been no time for lunch.

Then it was time for bed and the dream of a Full English Breakfast the next morning. Alas, no time for dreaming, the disco was beside our room. It started at 10pm and finished at 4.30am - I had one of those classy bedside clock/radio things next to my bed which flashed in red the time at me all night. There were moments when I lulled myself into heavy closed eyes and then Dad would stage whisper over - turn the a/c up. Then he gave me a long explanation of what 'up' meant. I know what 'up' means - you want it cooler. Did that, and rolled over. By 5am I was finally asleep. 5.05am - stage whisper - turn it down now will you? - what, down as in hotter or down as in cooler? - no, turn it off - err, ok.

Revived by my Full English at 10am we went for a quick walk and after walking past shoe shops, surf shops, clothes shops etc I stumbled upon a chemist - yipee. I can't explain this but there are no real chemists here and no rows of potions and lotions and pills and just in case remedies.....I spent 45 mins in there looking, touching, occasionally picking up (being followed by security) and left with a huge bag of just in case stuff including Christmas card tags and mascara, alas not vibrating.

Back to the airport and surprise surprise everything got through the x-ray this time including new potions and lotions and a large bottle of water. And then, oh joy of joys, Barbados Duty Free is fairly dedicated to chocolate in super size me sizes. A box of never ending Maltesers came first followed by not much else actually because they were huge. But half the joy is in the window shopping for me. The icing on the cake was a gigantic display of magazines including OK & Hello.

Back on LIAT, back home, very happy. Thanks Dad for coming and allowing me to have my 24 hour pass. We had a ball hey.

Busy doing nothing

2009-09-30T09:40:00.000-07:00

Ok, I thought I would be a lady of leisure with plenty of time to blog, write my book, swim and sunbathe but alas I still haven't learnt the art of saying 'no' - thank you but no thank you. For me this is as difficult as getting to the front of the queue. So what have I been doing......well finally the University are offering an Early Years Education course so I have been helping with that as I only managed a half no. Several overseas people have asked me to find houses for them - this has been super cool as their budgets are super high so I have been seeing super nice houses. A lot of supers hey. Last but not least working part-time with special needs children and private tutoring too...Talking of school.....

The kids have settled so well into their new school, and their Principal is so super cool she has just won two awards - one Caribbean and one local for being the best of the best. Guess she is just 'Super Nun' - there's a movie in there somewhere. Very large boxes of Roses chocolates will be winging their way there for Teacher's Day tomorrow anyway. Didn't even know they sold Roses here - hope someone buys me a box.

The shack rentals are going super well. Just had the Russkies (great guests and great fun) in for a week. They bought us Tanqueray 10 and insisted on a long night of whiskey cocktails. Never again but when you're the host you're the host aren't you.....

Finally my shipment of goodies from Target arrived with miniscule duty on - hurrah. Within this were super cool remote controlled, wax but battery operated candles. I shared with Ceels. I know we'll be the envy of the cocktails and candles set for sure....

Tout Sweet

2009-09-03T17:33:00.000-07:00

So, I got an email from a real live author - how super cool is that? Ok, I wrote first but hey she still replied. Anyway, thank you to Chris for spotting her book online and knowing I would like it and thank you to Amazon for sending it to me - well hopefully it will arrive. Here's the story of someone else's adventure - enjoy enjoy enjoy!

Six years ago, I went to France for the weekend to visit a friend — and bought a house. I hadn’t been planning to, but the opportunity practically dropped into my lap, after a chance meeting with the local estate agent. Over a petite noisette (espresso with a dash of milk) in the local cafe, he mentioned a place that had just come up for sale in the centre of a village 15 miles south of Poitiers. Half an hour later, I was standing in front of a shuttered house with a worn-looking exterior.

Inside, the plaster was flaking like a freshly baked croissant and the brown flowery wallpaper that blighted every wall — brown wallpaper being curiously prevalent in the French countryside — was peeling off in strips. The kitchen floor was about to collapse and there was no indoor loo, heating or hot water. But it was love at first sight. I was taken with the narrow wooden floorboards, the original fireplace and casement windows. Above all, I fell in love with the price. “It’s how much?” I asked the estate agent, thinking I’d misheard.

“€49,000,” [(about £35,000, at the time]) he repeated, misinterpreting the look of amazement on my face. “But don’t worry. I am sure I can get you a reduction.”

Poitou-Charentes, in central western France, is one of the country’s most affordable regions for property. For less than the price of a midlife-crisis car, I would have a holiday home with my own front door and a private courtyard, a big deal for somebody who had spent most of her adult life in London with no outside space. The house would be my hobby and a bolt hole whenever I needed a break from city life.
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I returned after lunch to sign the papers committing to purchase, not even sure if my bank would lend me the money. Fortunately, it did. There was one small problem: as a fashion and beauty writer, I knew nothing about property renovation (the only thing I had ever painted was my nails) and, having recently split up with my long-term boyfriend, I would have to rely on French artisans to do the work.

But I figured the house would also be a distraction from my failed love life. Aged 35, I had closets full of designer labels, a beautiful flat in west London and a successful career, but my closest relationship was with my iMac. And so, after a year of attempting (unsuccessfully) to organise the renovations from my London desk, I decided to move to France — initially, I told myself, for a year, to get the house finished. In reality, I wanted a break from London and time to reassess the materialistic city life that was no longer making me happy.

Although I had no savings — I spent most of my disposable income on shoes — I was lucky in that I would be able to make a living as a freelance journalist, working for British newspapers. And at the back of my mind was the thought that I might find a French husband (of my own, not somebody else’s, I hasten to add, although there is a lot of that sort of thing in rural France).

Surely it should be easier to meet somebody in a small village than a big city, I reckoned, since there would be less competition. Indeed, as a single anglaise in rural France, I told myself I would have novelty value, not least because most Britons who decamp to the land of the long lunch do so as part of a couple or a family and, more often than not, are drawing their pension. Friends have described me as the Bridget Jones or Carrie Bradshaw of the French countryside, but neither Bridget nor Carrie was foolish enough to renovate a house in France while looking for Mr Right.

I can’t claim that what followed was plain sailing. On one memorable occasion, I asked the decorator to give the slatted wooden ceiling of le petit salon a coat of white gloss. I returned from a work trip to London to find he had painted everything — walls, skirting boards and even the fire surround. Something, it seemed, had been lost in translation.

Gradually, I ticked all the big, boring (and costly) jobs such as plumbing and rewiring off my ‘To Do’ list. Then came the fun part: I had read every book I could find on French country interiors and pored over paint charts searching for that elusive shade of blue-grey typical of shutters. (The nearest I’ve found is Farrow & Ball’s Lamp Room Grey.) In contrast to my former flat in London, I decided to forgo tasteful minimalism and fill my French house with a riot of pattern and colour. Inspired by the brightly tiled bathrooms of the celebrated Hôtel La Mirande in Avignon, for example, I made a trip to Aix-en-Provence to buy hand-painted tiles from Carocim, which I used in a clashing patchwork above the kitchen sink.

I also became addicted to Laura Ashley, where I bought two cream iron beds, a distressed leather sofa, a mirrored chest of drawers and a large oak refectory table and benches, all of its shipped over at vast expense. Other pieces, including the vintage lampshades in my kitchen, I picked up at local dépôts-ventes or second-hand shops.

Not everything about the French countryside is perfect: it drove me mad that shops, even supermarkets, close between midday and 2pm every day, and on Mondays most do not open at all. I missed the M&S food hall and cappuccinos made with fresh milk rather than the revolting long-life stuff. The winter months, when rural villages, and life in general, close down by 7pm, can be long and cold. If you don’t make the effort to socialise, it is easy to feel isolated behind tightly closed shutters.

I was initially worried that, arriving in France on my own, I would be lonely, but it proved surprisingly easy to make friends. Living in a village rather than a remote hamlet, I soon realised, was a huge advantage. In the cafe on the square I was astonished at how many people, both French and English, would strike up a conversation. This is how I met one of my best friends, Martine, the glamorous lady mayor of a nearby village.

The first months were the most difficult. Often I woke up pining for my power shower, broadband connection and built-in closets. And yes, there were tears, mostly of frustration, as a result of dealings with France Telecom. It didn’t take long, however, to realise I didn’t want to return to my former life. Along with the other 12,000 Britons who live full-time in the Poitou-Charentes, I love the vast expanse of countryside on my doorstep, the fields of sunflowers (for which the region is famous) and the feeling of belonging to a small community.

“This is a very underrated part of France,” says Nicki Wade, the editor of Living Poitou-Charentes magazine (yes, the region even has its own English-language glossy). “Unlike the Dordogne, it is uncommercialised and unspoilt. It’s the authentic French experience.” It is also just four to five hours’ drive from the ferry ports of Caen and Le Havre and has more hours of sunshine than anywhere else in France, other than the Côte d’Azur.

Kim Cowles, of the French estate agency Agenssimmo (agenssimmo.fr), says price is another key factor. “You can pick up a small village house in need of renovation for as little as £39,000 — £74,000, if renovated — while fully restored farmhouses with a hectare of land can be had for about £87,000,” she says.

As for my house, it was recently valued at £74,000. Since I’ve spent £39,000 on renovating it, I wouldn’t make any profit if I sold. That was never the point. My French house has brought me a lifestyle and experiences that would not have been possible in Britain.

The good news is that I did eventually find my equivalent of Carrie’s “Mr Big”, in the form of Luis, the Portuguese builder living in the house next door. Last summer, my dog, Biff, escaped and jumped out of the window. The next thing I knew, there was a knock at the door and there he was with my dog in his arms.

But some city habits die hard. Every 10 weeks or so, I travel back to England to get my highlights redone in London. You can take the girl out of the city, it seems, but some aspects of city life are impossible to give up.

Tout Sweet: Hanging up my High Heels for a New Life in Rural France, by Karen Wheeler, is published by Summersdale, £7.99. Or read Karen’s blog at toutsweet.net

Sensational Sunset - Here's Winking At You Baby!

2009-09-01T15:38:00.002-07:00

Green, well pink polished fingers

2009-09-01T11:26:00.000-07:00

Gardening sort of creeps ('scuse the pun) up on you and grabs you and you can't shake it off, here in particular because it is particularly easy for pretty much everything to grow.

I was Villa hunting yesterday for my husband's colleague and was lucky enough to be shown around the most fantastic garden, all of which had been planted within the last 5 years. Some things the owner pointed out I knew but others I just nodded at enthusiastically, particularly at some ying yang bush and another two bushes which had the most amazing smelling leaves - one smokey and one minty - maybe the second one is to get rid of the smell of the first one. Another 2 trees produced red and white flowers at Christmas time so very apt. However, her most impressive success, to me, was a date palm, planted literally from a date seed and now 20 feet tall. I even stroked it. Ok ok at least I didn't talk to it. Anyway, I came home all full of inspiration and still not a clue but there again isn't gardening 99% enthusiasm and 1% at least knowing the names of what you want to buy at the nursery.

Pay Now, RIP later

2009-08-30T18:45:00.000-07:00

So Friday I find myself outside the funeral home and no it wasn't planned but there I was in the carpark waiting patiently for my new Housekeeper to emerge. The kids have by this time spent around 4 hours in the car having visited 2 places 4 times to get a Death Certificate. I wasn't surprised - nothing to do with form filling is straightforward here so why should death be any different. Anyway, I'm hanging around, avoiding all questions from the kids as to where we are and nodding when Chloe said she spotted a nice wedding car around the back....Then someone appeared from nowhere and makes me jump (place is probably full of wandering souls) with a 'Good day, prices are very reasonable you know....'

Did he think I was waiting outside plucking up the courage to enter? Too late, I hesitated too long and the full pitch began. 'You know we are not like Dead Loss (not their name but I really can't remember) up in Portsmouth, if you pay weekly now, when you reach your desired figure (lots of hands to heaven motions) you don't have to pay us a penny more. Whereas at Dead Loss in Portsmouth, they make you pay for years, yes years, so you might have paid in $20,000 whereas the (lots of hand gestures but no mention of the f word) you wanted only cost, say $2,000, ridiculous isn't it?'

By now I just want to get out of here. No, no such luck. I'm stuck, the sales pitch goes on and I am praying for the doors to open and the HK to emerge. At this stage the kids have climbed half-way up the tree. Deadtime Salesman (or whatever they are called) then does what all Dominicans do and tells the children they are in imminent danger, they must retreat and there's 2 very large snakes living at the top of the tree. Child 1 & 2 look horrified and descend quickly, Child 2 too quickly and falls. Dead Salesman then interjects 'At least you're in the right place'..... I know where the writers of 'Six Feet Under' get inspiration from now. Child 3 ignores all instructions and continues up the tree. So I ignore her. Still no sign of HK.

Phew, finally she emerges waving a piece of paper which she tries to show me with a lot of columns and figures on it. I don't want to be rude but I really don't want to know the difference between the plywood and the cherry oak version. Big mistake - should have found out and encouraged the plywood route early on.

Finally got home at 5pm, relieved and looking forward to Happy Hour at FYH starting at 6. HK says can she have a quick word. No problem I say, don't worry, I enjoyed driving you around all day, anytime, glad to help in times of crisis blah blah blah. HK - Thank you so much Fiona I knew you'd understand and I would be very grateful if I could borrow the $3,000 then before next Friday otherwise they won't bury Granny and now we (not me actually, I sat in the car along every step of the way) have made all the arrangements, so I need it before then......

Finally, after a whole year, Andy had agreed to a dishwasher at $3K, yipee yipee yipee - not sure why he thought that moving countries would actually negate the need for one in the first place but still. (Maybe he thought we'd be eating off disposable palm tree leaves). Anyway, I had picked out the model (ok there is only one shop that sells them and only one model), talked to the plumber, rearranged my cupboards, thrown away my Marigolds, you name it. BUT, how could I let Granny live in limbo in the funeral parlour indefinitely all for the sake of a 'glistening crystal clean glass moment?'

Well, you can't take it with you can you, mind you if you start now you'll be sure to reach the deluxe option in no time at all...........

Really?! Little Jack looks delighted.......

2009-08-16T12:57:00.000-07:00

The Wilmot family at Butlins: not all Brits are hoping for a foreign holiday

Across the country, bookings for campsites, holiday parks, self-catered cottages and boating breaks are way up on last year.

Kerry and Chris Wilmot and their four-year-old son Jack have been to Butlins 13 times since he was a toddler.

"There is so much that people don't realise is available here," said Kerry.

"Why get on a plane and fly out of the country when there is so much in the country to see. I prefer to holiday at home."

I Love You Just The Way You Are

2009-08-12T18:53:00.000-07:00

The expat women are quite hippy like here hey love?
Hippy like?
Yeah, you know....skinny, no bras or makeup, well, uniquely fashionable....
Ummm, so what are you telling me?
Well, d'you think you'll become like that?
I dunno really.
What do you mean, you dunno, you know you can buy some stuff online in the States and I'll bring it back. Or I'll buy it when I'm over there on business for you.
Cool, thanks love.
Well, what do you fancy, a t-shirt?
No, dresses and make-up then please.
I'm not getting clothes unless you tell me exactly what you want.
Ok then, make-up. I want the vibrating mascara.
Come again?
There's this new mascara that looks really cool - Chloe saw it on TV.
What do I ask for exactly? I'm not saying vibrating mascara.
Fine, don't get me anything.
Don't get stroppy.
I'm not - you just said you didn't want me to turn into a saggy boobed, unfashionable pale faced hippy and I just said mascara would be good start.
Well, write it down and I'll just hand it to the shop assistant.
They will think you're a right weirdo and just send you back to Aisle 15 or whatever.
I dunno anyway what it's called.
Google it.
Ok. Got It. Maybelline Vibrating Mascara - how difficult is that?
How does it run then?
Derrr, on batteries of course.
Forget it, I'm not bringing a vibrating mascara full (!) of batteries back through American customs.
Whatever, you asked.
Mutter mutter, ridiculous, batteries, make-up, mutter mutter......stomp off.

No worries. Avon's reached Dominica. Slip, slap, slop.

It does look a bit lethal though hey, one wrong move and you're blind.

Next I'll be in Birkenstocks, not.

Joy

2009-08-08T17:30:00.000-07:00

Nearly everyone invariably asks why we came here and there is no definitive answer I guess, however, I do know why I like it here but it's probably hard to explain that properly too.

But, simply put I guess it's the buzz and the fact that the people are really alive. Ok, that sounds corny doesn't it. The best way I can think of is to describe last Friday. Friday is a really fun day in town from lunchtime on - it's definitely the (Crunchie) Friday feeling for sure; the market has started to set up, the supermarket is busy and everyone is shouting happily. It's a nation of Mutleys (think Wacky Races) mind. Everyone mutters away to themselves interspersed with shouting across the aisles on absolutely nothing relating to the grocery shop. I used to nod in empathy at the mutters, and mutter along in harmony, 'no, I really can't believe they don't stock 'I Can't Believe It's Not Butter' here either' etc, but no-one really cares and it's a mutter & move on climate. Even I have given up the angry muttering at the checkout when the 'but I've only got one tin of cornbeef' brigade bypass me, without even making eye contact. Now, I just leave a nice long gap in front of me and make it easy for anyone to slip in there. Afterall it gives me & the kids far more time to decide between the 200 bars of Snickers or the Sunflower Seeds next to them - clearly the 'CHECKOUT IS THE LAST SALOON CHOCOLATE STOP' hasn't reached the shelf stackers at IGA yet. Anyway, the point I am making is that everyone is happy, even in the supermarket - no long faces, take it or leave it is the motto, and let's face it the frozen chicken freezers will never ever ever run out.....

On the way home, I sat behind a lorry full of workers all standing up holding the sides (the truck's not theirs) and laughing, joking and greeting nearly everyone they passed. Their joy in life was so infectious I couldn't help smiling and waving to the odd passerby myself. Fortunately, most people still assume I'm a tourist and not a local looney pretending to have lots of Dominicabook type add on friends....

One day I will write my book....until then....

2009-08-02T17:09:00.000-07:00

Few Caribbean rentals are as atmospheric as Pointe Baptiste. The Dominican home that inspired a Scottish writer has lost none of its 1930s elegance Polly Patullo , Saturday 18 July 2009 Writer's haven ... a white Sand beach near Pointe Baptiste, Dominica. Photograph: Polly Patullo.

Pointe Baptiste reflects the passions of this Scottish-born aristocrat, who was a writer (with a column in the Manchester Guardian describing life on her adopted island), a politician (the first woman to be elected to a Caribbean legislature) and an adventurer. Her memoir, Black and White Sands: a Bohemian Life in the Colonial Caribbean, telling the story of life at Pointe Baptiste and her love affair with the island, then a British colony, has just been published.

Perched on a promontory close to the charming north-coast village of Calibishie, Pointe Baptiste has a casual elegance and intellectual atmosphere that is rarely found in holiday rentals in the Caribbean. Barely changed since Elma's era (although now with electricity and modern plumbing), there are dark glowing antiques, paintings by local artists, a photograph of Gordonstoun school (her childhood home), and shelves of books, among which one visitor found a letter to Elma from Noel Coward.

Dominica is good at seducing outsiders; it is also good at spitting them out again. Elma said that Dominica had a "mysterious charm that has lured some people to stay forever, and from which others have fled without even taking time to unpack". Elma Napier stayed forever, living there until her death in 1973. I have been going to Dominica since the mid-1980s and have been visiting Pointe Baptiste for almost as long, always delighting in the environment that she so loved.

Below the house are two beaches, one of black volcanic sand, the other of pale coral. Elma used to swim on "black beach" in the early morning and "white beach" before lunch. Earlier this year, I did the same. With two of Elma's great-grandchildren, I walked down to the shoreline, only a few minutes' away from the house, through dry forest where the ghostly pink petals of white cedars coated the ground and where lizards, called abòlò in Creole (and once considered a cure for leprosy), scuttled through papery undergrowth.

From black beach, where, as Elma wrote, the sand is "powdered like coal", we clambered up on to a vast amphitheatre of red-ochre rocks "thrusting great paws into the sea", and then walked back through the outskirts of the village to Pointe Baptiste. Sometimes groups of tourists arrive on the rocks to visit the blowhole that regularly emits great spurts of water, but rarely are they anything but empty, backed by trees, battered almost horizontal by the wind like a quiffed haircut.

And then we went to white beach, whose pale sand is a rarity on an island where rainforest, waterfalls, rivers and black-sand beaches are ubiquitous. We swam in the shallows where the waters are protected by a large single rock. Elma would still recognise her white beach although recently a bar has opened, discreetly tucked in among the sea grapes and coconuts. Nearby is the equally gorgeous Woodford Hill beach, also of golden sand and good for snorkelling. Only on public holidays, when Dominicans come out to picnic, are either of these beaches remotely busy.

Indeed it probably has not been so crowded since the time in Elma's day when Fredric March's Christopher Columbus (1949) was filmed there. Nearly 60 years later, scenes from Pirates of the Caribbean were filmed on nearby Hampstead beach.

Elma loved to explore, "to see around the next corner", and Dominica is perfect for that. There are endless hikes - take a guide for all but the easiest - such as to the bubbling Boiling Lake, enveloped in a cloud of vapour. Soon a new island-long hiking route, the Waitukubuli National Trail, will open, linking the north with the south in a chain of treks through the extraordinary rainforested interior.

As if Pointe Baptiste were not remote enough, Elma and her family often retreated to a place deep in the rainforest called Chaudiere, where they built their "second home" (now reclaimed by the bush). To get there involved crossing a river six times. Now it's easier. We had a short 20-minute walk from the road beyond the village of Bense down a narrow trail to Chaudiere, a place where two rivers join and waterfalls cascade. We waded across one river and went to swim in a pool enclosed by high rocks, indulging in the Jacuzzi-like qualities of the rushing water, enjoying what Dominicans called "a river bath" and floating on our backs, with the green lace of the forest looming above us.

One of the first things the Napiers did on their arrival in Dominica was to walk to the Carib Territory, home to the Kalinagos, the indigenous people of the Caribbean, to pay their respects to the chief. Nowadays, another leading Kalinago, former chief Irvince Auguiste, welcomes visitors to Concord, the only one of the Kalinago villages to lie inland, away from the jagged Atlantic coast. Elma grieved over the Kalingos' lost culture, but Irvince does his best to keep the flag flying for his people. He takes visitors on a tour of his village, to experience "not how we used to live but how we live now". So you can expect to chat to the cassava-bread maker, learn about the herbs in the yard and get a lesson in basket-making, one of the Kalinagos' surviving traditional crafts.

When the Napiers first announced that they were to give up their fashionable life in London to live in Dominica, one of their friends said it was terrible to think of them sitting on the veranda and drinking rum for the rest of their lives. There waxs time for rum and verandas, but Elma's rich life on the island showed that Dominica offered - and continues to offer - so much more than a hang-out for lotus-eaters.

• Polly Pattullo is the publisher of Black and White Sands: a Bohemian Life in the Colonial Caribbean by Elma Napier (Papillote Press, £10.99).

1st Year Anniversary

2009-07-30T14:42:00.001-07:00

Thank you to everyone who has reminded me we have been here a year - yesterday!

So, my observations are:-

Time really does fly, even on Caribbean time, as it were.

Anything you want must be preceded by 'Gimme'. Just forget 'please may I have' - you might as well be speaking Chinese.

There is no fresh bread first thing.

Everyone knows more about your child's safety than you. Just accept it and be grateful.

Nothing is mine, Tom, Dick or Harry's. It is mine own, Tom's own, Dick's own etc.

The news channel frequently shows news from 5+ years ago.

It is impossible to tell which bottle has tonic, soda or lemonade in as they
are all marked Quenchi.

Sell by dates mean nothing.

No-one uses their real name.

Everyone is related.

The most popular dance consists of allowing any man to gyrate his hips against yours even though you haven't a clue who it is behind you. Sometimes it is a pleasant surprise and sometimes....

If you don't eat chicken you better go vegetarian.

Anything nice and new in the supermarket, (ok, chocolate and unusual biscuits) will be sold out in a few days. Panic buy.

The Fort Young Hotel uses tinned pineapple to make Pina Coladas.

Everyone knows your salary - don't forget everyone is related - even in the bank.

The cost of buying a small fish & chips is the same as buying small fish & chips with an extra of fish on the side, which is really big fish and chips but if you ask for that it costs more. Confused, you will be.

Education should be added to the dinner party 'no go' topics of religion & politics - all of which are discussed at length by those who know the least.

Pretty much everyone looks out for you, I think.

You don't go 'to' somewhere, you go 'by' somewhere.

Cheese triangles (because of their shape funnily enough) are called cheese cubes.

Having the same meal at the same restaurant will rarely ever cost the same.

Everyone's whites are always spotless whites. Persil should really just run all their advertising campaigns from here.

No-one will iron in the rain.

Transport is the word used for car, bike, motorbike, truck etc, so it could be a BMW or a moped coming to pick you up.

The cost of duty for parcels in the Post Office bears no reality whatsoever to the value of the item. The cashier never has any change either.

The loo seat is never freezing cold.

Yes, you can live without buying any new clothes for anyone for a whole year.

Getting up at 6am is easy peasy Japaneasy when it's warm.

The beauty of the place never fails to take your breath away and neither do the sunsets.

Everyone will eventually turn up and if they don't it's because some relation is sick or has died.

An avocado is called a pear - pronounced 'peeeer'.

Cheese puffs are corn curls.

Bleach rules. Wise to get shares in Clorox.

The Chinese restaurants are real Chinese. Fab.

The merits and demerits and cost of buying something in a shop are often discussed at length but result in 'we don't have that though/we can't sell the last one in stock/suggest you try down the road'.

The dustbin men are saints - think stinking, rotten, hot, mouldy, dog chewed piles of waste.

All pulses are called peas.

Always give way to the buses on the mountain.

Wave to everyone and never admit you don't know anyone when clearly they have met you several times.

No-one likes to get their hair wet.

Hair and nail styles change practically daily.

The word 'respect' is part of most confrontations.

The breeze is warm and pleasant.

The views are undescribable.

The beaches are magnificent.

My friends are great!

Yeah, we're there.
So, come on, what (are) you waiting for?

International Cricket

2009-07-28T12:59:00.000-07:00

Well cricket finally came to Dominica and we decided to take everyone as we've never actually been in the Stadium although we can see quite clearly down upon it. Well, I bought the tickets and the lady said, in a warning tone, the party stand is for people who don't watch cricket - great, that's me. So I really haven't a clue what when on. There was a swimming pool for the kids to splash about it, a very loud band and a bar. The bar consisted of 'he who shouts the loudest gets served'. This resulted in the lady behind me getting either a) so frustrated by my quiet '2 beers please' requests or b) she realised I had absolutely no hope in hell of ever getting served at the bar. The latter was true - the conversations were all shouts and everyone knew everyone else and everyone was stealing everyone elses order from the poor guys serving. Complete and utter chaos. So, back to the lady behind me, who simply treated me like a helpless toddler and took over my order and secured my drinks. So cheers to her.

Secondly, thanks to all the people who took pictures of us including Woody & Celia.

Also, Celia took the picture of Sisserou Villa and Lodge from the stadium and the spectacular mural we now have adjoinging the two properties and surrounding the pool.

Busy

2009-07-28T12:32:00.000-07:00

I am getting so much grief for the picture of my Dad still lingering there so here we go....School finished, YIPEE, the kids are now in a really fun Summer Camp - Irie Eco - fun activities including free play (yeah!!) and day trips and not a sign of 'Phonics is Fun' anywhere. Summer holidays are summer holidays for children - the clues are in the words you know....they are going to do a week at Art Camp too...lucky guys.

Anyway, we had a fun week off altogether recently in Calibishie...it's Melrose Place crossed with Desperate Housewives but a very pretty Melrose Place nonetheless and reality TV is on your doorstep, quite literally.

Up there we found a fab bakery - real bread and real cakes, obviously most of them involving chocolate...anyway I rang the number:-

Hello is this the bakery?

Uh?

You know bread?

Oh yeah.

And cakes?

Yeah but I'm at the bus stop now.

Ok, but can I order some naan bread and chocolate cake plse?

Yes but you will have to ring back for the cake.

So I can order the bread now and the cake later - cool, I
will have some onion bread and some naan bread and I will
ring back about the cake order.

Yeah man, no problem.

When's a good time to ring back?

Later.

Yeah, I know later, but later - this evening?

September would be better...

Anyway, his bread is fantastic, impossible to find the bakery of course and yes, it's half way up a mountain, like everywhere, but definitely worth persevering.

Happy Father's Day

2009-06-21T10:22:00.000-07:00

To Dad AKA - The Hat, The Cardigan & The Joke
With all my love, X

An old nun who was living in a convent next to a construction site noticed the coarse language of the workers so she decided to spend some time with them to try and correct their ways. She thought she would take her lunch and sit with the workers and talk with them. She put her sandwich in a brown paper bag and walked over to the spot where the men were eating.

The men looked to be supervisors so she said, with a big smile: "Do you men know Jesus Christ?"

They shook their heads and looked at each other. The foreman then shouted up into the building and yelled "Anybody up there know Jesus Christ?"

There were a number of denials, and then one of the workers shouted down "Yeah..... Why"?

The foreman yelled back, “Get down here as quick as you can. Your mother's here with your lunch!"

Hot Scoff

2009-06-17T13:19:00.001-07:00

The Dominica Food and Drink Guide 2009 is now available on-line.

Open publication

This is Coooool !

2009-06-17T13:14:00.000-07:00

The Latest Caribbean Homes and Lifestyle magazine is now available on-line.

Open publication

Stuff

2009-06-17T12:34:00.000-07:00

The road to our house at the very top of the mountain has been fixed, proper tarmac, super wide and scary free driving. This took 9 months.

The road to our house at the very top of the mountain (no I don't have alzheimer's yet) has just been completely dug up, is very narrow, is full of pot holes and super scary slidey (sp?) in the rain now.

Mr Road Man does not communicate with Mr Water Pipe Man in the Utilities Department I guess then, too busy dealing with Mr Bin Man most likely. (you'll have to Google that - Dominica bingate scandal).

My family have probably had enough of being dragged around the old ruins in Dominica. Everyone else goes to the beach or river they tell me but oh no we have to rubber neck. They'll thank me one day.

Our housekeeper took a loan and then has been house moving for the last 3 weeks so I think she may not come back. So I'm permanently at the kitchen sink but it could be worse - at least the view's great.

My friend Celia has my children for a whole afternoon for me and doesn't complain - until she's out of earshot. Ceels, what would I do without you....

Our class field trip today was to the Indian River - fantastic - here's Ollie & a large crab and me - his classmate had my camera - honestly! Scarlett went to an adventure park for hers and was fearless, sort of.

I had a fight with the carpark barrier in Astaphans and lost so I'm a third bumperless with a fair amount of yellow paint added. I thought it was fairly minor until Andy asked where all the missing pieces were. Fairly major then. Ollie tells me we shouldn't use that carpark again. They probably don't want me anywhere near their carpark again.

Finally, the slothful behaviour of the year award goes to Oliver.

Eek aka oink oink!

2009-06-08T13:22:00.000-07:00

Dominica confirms 1st case of swine flu
Associated Press
2009-06-08 09:26 PM

The small eastern Caribbean island of Dominica has confirmed its first case of swine flu.

Health Minister John Fabien says the man has received treatment and is recovering. He urged islanders to remain vigilant and continue to take "personal hygiene measures."

Fabien said Monday samples from the man were sent for testing last week and came back positive from the Caribbean Epidemiology Center in Trinidad.

The patient reportedly had returned from a recent visit to the United States.

The Exam Debate

2009-06-04T15:25:00.000-07:00

Well, it's exam time at the children's school. In fact if it's not exams it's tests. I keep it low key with my children so they are still laid back about the whole process but the stress levels amongst the, shall we say, more competitive parents seems to be at an all time high. Casual conversations started with teachers about the weather (hot, hot & hot at the moment) invariably lead to, 'what do you think you'll be covering in the exam, exactly'. Note the very casual 'exactly' thrown in. Bemused teachers reply referring to a Study Guide (err, the whole year's curriculum) and parents depart crestfallen. However, some don't give up and almost demand to know exactly what will be included nearly busting their blouses in frustration. Anyway, when in Rome, just remain horizontal about it I'd say. Pass us a grape.

School Projects

2009-05-24T12:58:00.000-07:00

Yet ANOTHER school project completed.
My brother says it's the same there as here, however, in 'our' day I'm sure
I did everthing all by myself. Now it's the competition of the Mum's - in fact
they should add a little section on the report card - Mrs Sawers, Grade 2 - Term 3 Project Work - A+
Did my lovely daughter appreciate it?
What do you think?
You do know what it is don't you?

Mermaid's Secret, Rosalie

2009-05-24T08:33:00.001-07:00

Our friends have just bought this wonderful place.
Fantastic pool and lovely lodges, coupled with the most amazing luxury yurts to sleep the whole family or a romantic place for two - the only place to stay 'in the country'.
Our mermaid diidn't need much encouragement to pose.
Last but not least enjoy an ice cold bevy at the exclusive Mermaid's Tale Bar!
Best of luck to the Williams and long may we BBQ by their very own, privately owned, exclusive Mermaid Pool!

www.mermaids-secret.com

Del Sawers Monte

2009-05-24T08:30:00.000-07:00

Mother's Day in Dominica

2009-05-10T19:05:00.000-07:00

It's official I've turned into my Mum.
Today was rainy and chilly - well as chilly goes here so I made the whole family go for the obligatory Sunday walk after lunch. Except, here it's up the mountain and down again. So here they are the top and all remarkably cheerful so we all exchanged photos. Happy Mother's Day to all those involved in childcare wherever you may be - it's the things you think they'll never remember that they always do. Enjoy and thanks Mum for making me me. XX

Suits you sir

2009-05-07T08:08:00.000-07:00

So, I am trying to shop online for 4 of us. Andy did his own - ok Jack springs to mind. Anyway, I spend ages shopping, putting it all in my cart and then can't check out because my card address, delivery address and/or home addresses don't quite tally. Back to good old Amazon who now sell absolutely everything so I pick a few items and then get baffled by XXS XS S M SM M+ etc etc. What happened to 8/10/12, no that would be far too easy. And they start at 0/Zero - how can you possibly be Zero that means you would be a spec a blog whatever, like a Benjamin Button moment. Then I'm forced to look up 'manufacturers size chart' which is all in inches - inches, who uses inches - well, the States still does of course. Maybe if you are a touch outsized as it were it sounds kind of better in inches than in centimetres - maybe. So, I measure the kids, sort of calculate what the rough size might be and then I make a big mistake thinking it will be a fun bonding thing - let's shop online TOGETHER. Well, I did all the 'doesn't that look a lovely sundress/pair of shorts/flips' business and got firm 'no's' all round. So, I gave up and went back to 'dresses' for me. Can I find anything - no, only this one - didn't the mother in Bewitched (1st edition!) wear this? Oh for the days of PRIMARK - I went in once a year, did a trolley dash for all 4 of us ('he' always shopped at proper shops) and 300 quid later we are all sorted for another year. Now how much would it be for just me to just pop on just 2 planes and just pop into Kingston's Primark.............

Caribbean Homes & Lifestyle Magazine

2009-04-26T09:21:00.000-07:00

http://www.caribbeanhotproperty.com/news-article.asp?newsid=83

Where there's a will there's a way...

2009-04-19T10:32:00.000-07:00

There are four basic food groups: milk chocolate, dark chocolate, white chocolate, and chocolate truffles.

Yes I shared, 4 for me, 1 for you, etc. Convinced the kids that was how quarters are calculated.

You can make anything here.....

2009-04-19T10:29:00.000-07:00

http://www.celebration-of-flight.com/eng/html/movie/framesetmovie.html

but we haven't got a cinema....

Going Places - No, You're Not

2009-04-16T15:24:00.000-07:00

As I walked past a Travel Agents today, 'Going Places', a sign in the window caught my eye, cheap flights to Panama. (Ok, ok, I haven't quite given up hope of a leaving on a jet plane moment this summer), so I went in and two smartly dressed girls were sitting there talking to each other. Take a seat please said one and they carried on talking and I waited, happily, afterall it was airconditioned in there. My turn came - I say this loosely as I was still the only one. Anyway, here goes:-

Please can you let me know if I can still book the special fares to Panama?
What?
Panama - it's in the window on a flyer
You wanna fly where?
Panama - it's mentioned in the window
Which window?
Your window.
You sure?
Yeah - cheap flights to Panama
Oh
So, can I possibly check the fare?
Where to?
Panama - 5 of us please - 2 Adults / 3 Kids
You taking all the kids?
Yes, I was hoping to
1st Assistant: There's nothing in the window
2nd Assistant: I said you should have cleaned up the window
Anyway, can I just check the fares please?
Lots of tapping later - One way?
No, we're coming back.
Where you coming back to?
Err, Dominica
Ok, EC$14,434
So, it's not the fare in the window then?
No, there's nothing in the window.

Who wants to go to Panama anyway. Too many hats.

It's a dog's life - lucky thing

2009-04-09T17:08:00.000-07:00

An Easter-egg hunt proved to be anything but fun for a sweet-toothed Labrador called Buster.

Greedy dog scoffs 12 easter eggs

Buster was treated for chocolate poisoning after gorging on creme eggs

The five-stone pooch ended up with chocolate poisoning after wolfing down a stash of chocolate eggs which he found hidden away in his owner's spare room.

Five-year-old Buster had to be taken to animal hospital where he was admitted to intensive care after devouring 12 eggs and their foil wrapping.

Buster's owner, Brenda Dawes, bought the eggs as Easter treats for her grandchildren.

She said: "When I arrived home one afternoon, Buster came down the stairs, wagging his tail and licking his lips. I knew immediately he'd been up to something.

"He's a terror and chews everything he gets his paws on - mobile phones, video tapes, the remote control."

At first, Buster did not appear to be affected by his binge. However, Ms Dawes was woken in the early hours of the morning by the pet's cries.

Buster is now fully recovered after his binge

"He couldn't stand up, his back legs just kept buckling underneath him.

"His stomach was swollen and he was obviously in a lot of pain. Panicking, I called PDSA and they told me to bring him straight in."

Ms Dawes immediately took the dog to animal charity PDSA's PetAid hospital, near her home in Derby, where he was treated with fluids and kept in for round-the-clock observation.

Buster made a full recovery, but his ordeal has prompted animal welfare officials to issue a pre-Easter warning to anyone who keeps hungry hounds and chocolate under the same roof.

Senior veterinary surgeon Vicky Sims said: "Buster was quite lucky. Creme eggs have a fairly low theobromine content because they're half fondant.

"Higher quality 'posh' chocolates are the most dangerous as they have high concentrated doses of theobromine - which poisons pets.

Wot no eggs?

2009-04-08T14:11:00.001-07:00

Complete and utter lack of chocolate eggs here. I am dreaming about Cadburys Creme Eggs for a start. I can smell the lovely little bakery in Belgium which was overflowing with eggs. Fortunately the kids are completely nonplussed....

Summer Hols

2009-04-08T06:20:00.000-07:00

Trying to plan our summer holiday at the moment. Wherever we have lived we have always taken a summer holiday, involving a flight, with the children. So I've been investigating various options for this summer including a house swap in the US, a visit to a neighbouring island and a 7 day cruise departing from San Juan. The kids would adore the latter with full on entertainment and unlimited junk food but reading through the Carnival reviews, the hairy chest competition (honestly - Google 'Carnival Hairy Chest') featured highly as a major highlight and I'm not sure Andy & I could take 7 nights of such excitement.

The US option was very appealing for lots of reasons, shopping, a trip to Disney, meeting up with my BF from Belgium who is hoping to visit Floirda this summer too, a little house hunt etc. But before we even get there the cost is just under US4K - now we'd have to buy a lot of stuff online and pay a lot in freight and charges to get even close to that figure.

So, sometimes the answer in under your nose. Why would we actually want to leave here this summer really. We don't have island fever, yet, most of the family are coming to visit this year and we still haven't done all the things everyone else does when they come for a holiday.

Must remember to chuck my towel on that sunlounger before breakfast mind.......

Sisserou Lodge

2009-03-29T19:09:00.000-07:00

We've just had great guests staying. It takes a lot of time and effort getting the Lodge all sorted and stocking it all up with everything from shampoo to sugar and more. When people appreciate it so much that they bake you bread and give you wine then it makes it all worthwhile. They liked Dominica so much too that they bought a plot of land as well. Best of luck!

Eat your heart out Bird's Eye

2009-03-29T18:59:00.000-07:00

We did it. Is this great or is this great? It tastes fantastic too - not as fantastic as chocolate I know but pretty close. This growing it yourself lark is really growing on me. We've even bought a freezer. One day it may have more veg in it than ice cream. One day.

Flipping Fantastic

2009-03-29T18:42:00.000-07:00

Time flies. We are now all out all day and life is too busy at the moment. We didn't come here to be too busy so shortly I'm downsizing my workload - lucky me. However today was a rare relaxing family day with friends, away from town and in the middle of nowhere enjoying someone else's view, which although completely different to ours is as spectacular. To top it all we had chocolate pancakes - real pancakes - not precooked pretending to be pancakes a few hours later type pancakes from a real chef in a setting straight out of Hansel & Gretel. How cool is that. As we drove off the kids were moaning saying why couldn't we stay the night. I went through a list of various reasons to no avail until I threw in as a last resort - well, they have no fridge. That stopped them in their tracks. Silence. Five minutes later - don't worry Mummy, we can always stick our drawings up on the wall. Is it me?

Rose/Rose

2009-03-09T03:40:00.000-07:00

Compassion & Respect

2009-03-07T01:36:00.000-08:00

Lots has happened recently. People stuff which I can't blog - that'll have to wait for the book with the supporting line 'this is all fiction and any resemblance etc is purely a conincidence'. I always wondered why some authors didn't use their real name.

Talking of which, well publishing, we've been featured (on why we moved) in a two page spread in the latest issue of the Caribbean Hot Property magazine. From this we've already had a booking for the Lodge, so that's good. I've also had a lot of requests for an overall update on the 'are we there yet?' theme. Must find time for that, guess folks don't just want an 'I'm here' report.

Andy's well worn Teva's go into semi-retirement from the 16th March when his project managing the house & garden completion finishes and he's whisked back into office life. Arrggghh shame hey. The second biggest shock will be to Scarlett who thought they were BFF.

Carnival

2009-03-07T01:27:00.000-08:00

This was great!
The streets were all closed and it was a pleasure to walk around without having to negotiate cars or bumpy pavements.

The steel band was fab too.

The people who docked from the cruise ship that day had a real treat.

For some, it was just a tad too noisy......

It's All Done - that wasn't long was it.....

2009-03-07T01:25:00.000-08:00

Fence done, staining the wood may take longer...

2009-02-11T12:30:00.000-08:00

Crabtastic

2009-02-08T16:04:00.000-08:00

Ollie has to take something 'living' into school tomorrow. His heart was set on a crab. Nevermind that the house is full of easy to catch geckos (or is the plural gecki (?)) and other wildlife, no we had to trek to the beach (it's a hard life) and run around with our jam jar poised to pounce. Do you know how quickly crabs move? I do. Anyway, successful mission. Tonight I said we should feed it. Feed it? said Andy looking at me as if I was bonkers - well I don't want it dead before school tomorrow. It would be like the Monty Python parrot sketch wouldn't it. So, I suggested bread. More 'are you deranged?' stares my way. Now I sit guiltily and worried that it won't survive the night.....all I can think of is this caviar (a present) in the fridge - are crabs cannibals, sort of? Well they must all be mates in the sea, musn't they? I tell you, the homework these teachers give these days......:)

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4vuW6tQ0218

-10 degrees and getting colder

2009-02-07T04:48:00.000-08:00

Thinking of you guys at home!

Oh baby, you've come so far....

2009-02-05T16:52:00.001-08:00

With a lick of paint or two

2009-02-03T14:56:00.000-08:00

Looked at an interesting property today with a view to updating it and renting it and/or selling it. This is one of our big interests - property potential/opportunity/development. It's on the seafront, literally. I'd like to say it's in the Brighton of Dominica but it's probably more like the Belfast of. However, in estate agent's terms, if I was one, I'd say it was truly 'up and coming'. Will now work out if the figures stack up which translates into, will the bank cough up. I'm a creative accountant.........

Vote for Dominica, of course, where else is there?

2009-02-01T13:51:00.000-08:00

http://www.msnbc.msn.com/id/23960057/

This week's stuff

2009-02-01T12:21:00.000-08:00

My beautiful eldest daughter.

I am completely obsessed by maintaining clean water in the pool.

Have my own car now. What excuse can I make to still not drive....it's only a small mountain......

You Gotta Love the Bank

2009-01-25T05:14:00.000-08:00

Copy & pasted is the email below we received from the bank:

Thanks

Grateful if you would give me the EC equivalent for 150 000 dirhams

I am sorry but this currency is new to me

I would appreciate your assistance in this matter

Thanks again

Dedicated to Charles Morland from the Sloth

2009-01-25T04:49:00.000-08:00

Now, this is what happens to Teva flips after 6 months of continual wear.....

Impressive?

2009-01-24T07:14:00.000-08:00

Our first crop of cumbers as the kids call them

2009-01-21T14:44:00.000-08:00

There's a funny caption in here somewhere.....

Thanks so much!

2009-01-18T06:31:00.000-08:00

Ollie's wishlist since arriving here has been simple - Kung Fu Panda stickers. Bought the DVD and the game - no good - back to basics - I want the stickers for my sticker book was his weekly request. Uncle Chris came to the rescue and on Friday the parcel was waiting for us. After a patient queue - well I just dodged from one line to another as when I reached the end I was in the 'no, this is for posting', 'no, this is for opening boxes only' 'no, this is the cashier' lines - we finally got our little package inspected. The duty was EC$2.03. Who knows how they calculated that and I only had a EC$10 dollar note. Sorry, no change. Not, sorry no change you can take it but sorry, no change, you'll have to wait. Nothing could dampen Ollie's excitement though and 45 mins later (a GPO wih no money in?) we were on our Kung Fu way...enjoy his Oscar winning acceptance speech - no, he was overjoyed, honest....his sister just overshadows him somewhat....

Today in Portsmouth

2009-01-17T18:10:00.000-08:00

It was busy - well there was more than us 5 on the beach.
Lots of smart boats in the marina (well, if there was a marina).
Strange elderly women on the beach with bleached white hair, make-up and bikini bottoms up to the ribs - having their Shirley Valentine moments no doubt.
As we leave, the Shirley Valentines and several Ross University doctors in training (my body is a temple?) are partaking in a sweet smelling moment.
By next week, I'm sure all will be deserted again.
There were 4 cruise ships in today afterall.
These pesky tourists leading us astray....anyway, we got home in time for the sunset and left them all to it....

No, it's not finished yet

2009-01-17T17:48:00.000-08:00

We've finally found decent contractors. Let me tell you, the only way to find reliable and skilled workers is to do the hard graft yourself and search and look and inspect work. The other option is to take a chance on 'new' workers as it were - those that have always reported to others but have never branched out for themselves. Well, we plucked two of these out and gave them their first contract to complete from start to finish. They are doing the pool decking and fencing. Having learned the hard way ie. flying a so called skilled labourer out from the UK, who instead just enjoyed a free scuba diving holiday with his girlfriend and then being recomended a few duffers who called themselves by various professions that they must have chosen from a lucky dip hat - ie. the housekeeper who wouldn't iron in the rain (so half the year) to the temporary nanny who told the children to go and play whilst she watched TV, we are now on our way to having a pool of people to call on that are skilled and actually show up - even in the rain. Talking of pools, here's a teaser......

It's only 82 degrees

2009-01-17T17:42:00.000-08:00

After 6 months my children are getting aclimatised I guess.

Checking on Ollie as I went to bed one night this week, I found him like this. Next morning he told me he was freezing and thought that the earmuffs (having been discarded to the dressing up box) would do the trick.

Next we'll be getting the fan heater out.....

Stop-pinnnn

2009-01-17T17:17:00.000-08:00

Had to catch the bus last week. So, I find the correct bus stop and there's 10 buses in a row so I go to the front one. No, that's not right, the correct procedure is to find the one that's completely full and then you squeeze in. Well, actually you find the one with no seats, lots of shouting ensues and then you are directed into a small space - with 2 kids on your lap with 2 school backpacks. Chloe gave me that, 'are you completely mad' look and I smile and give her that fixed 'what an adventure this is, don't argue with me' smile. So we set off - not as the crow flies but some strange back route but at least we're working our way up the mountain (we live at the top) so things are looking up ('scuse the pun). Suddently a lound 'stop-pinnn' is shouted out from somewhere - it has to be loud because of blaring IPOD's, numerous cell phones going and a conversation taking place between the driver and the person on the back seat and front seat at the same time, of course. Anyway, the bus stops and everyone looks at me but I'm not quite sure why. Then I twig, I'm next to the door so I'm doorman/woman/whatever. So, how do I open the door with 2 kids on my lap and nowhere to put them whilst trying to get the door. So I do this leaning right over thing and just about manage it. More looking at me. Umm, I have to close it too I guess. More leaning and sweating and humiliation as I can't quite do it - well it's a sliding door on a minibus half-way up a mountain - it's heavy ok and I've just been given specific instructions 'don't let it slam'. How can you not slam a sliding door on a 45 degree angle. More looking at me. Then my cell phone (I'd say mobile b I've been brainwashed here to cell language) bleeps with a text message saying 'In Belga Queen, having champagne and oysters, wish you were here'. How my life's changed....miss you loads Mel XX

Indian River tour

2008-12-31T08:34:00.000-08:00

Fab. This is the shot where Johnny Depp went to see the Sorcerer at night (but it was really filmed in the day). Anyway, this is what her house looked like and this is what it is like now. Disney built the house around the trees. Now, I really must watch these movies so I know vaguely what I'm talking about...