Tales from a Caribbean Island - or Fatty and Skinny on winter holiday

Nevis with 'snow' on its summit!

After an uneventful flight from LGW to St Kitts, via Antigua, we arrived at Nevis' International Airport. Immigration officials are the unsuspecting tourists first brush with Island life. Having spent some 10 hours in an aircraft one is looking forward to the first rum punch!
Alas, the officials manning the arrivals desks move at the speed of wounded hedgehogs, as a consequence the duration of journey is inexplicably extended by another hour. Each passport is examined from front to back and then from back to front, then upside down, again from front to back and back again! At last the official seems to be happy....aha! they then begin the study of the immigration forms, (these have taken you some time to complete on the aircraft) using the same ritual. This takes somewhat longer this time as each form has been individually filled in and each handwriting creates it's own translation issues!
Finally you are in the baggage hall where the bags and suitcases have only just started to arrive....goodness knows what the baggage handlers have been doing whist 100 weary passengers have been trying to enter the country! They certainly ain't unloading the baggage in a super efficient manner! At last we clear the airport and find the minibus to transport us to the tip of the Island where we take the water taxi across to Nevis. There is no bridge between the two islands so the water taxis are the only means of getting across other than an ancient ferry which takes around an hour to traverse between the islands. Once you set foot on the water taxi, there is a sudden leap into a different mood. The taxi hurtles off at warp factor 6 throwing sheets of spray all about and forcing passengers to hold on tightly, real white knuckle stuff. Finally we land on Nevis and are greeted by our friends. Now we are back to is land life again and wander into the nearest beach bar for that long awaiting glass of punch!
Of the two Island States, Nevis is considered the quiet one somewhat trapped in the 60s. No bad thing IMO. The photo below tells all. Nevis is about 6 sq miles and dominated by the extinct volcano aptly named Mt Nevis. It is said that when discovered, from a distance the approaching sailors thought that the top was covered in snow, not realising it was cloud, and Nevis takes it's name from a bastardisation of, I think, the Spanish word for snow?
There is but one road that circulates the Island and that is so pitted with potholes that ultra care is needed, not so much to avoid these great voids in the surface, but to avoid the locals busily weaving from one side to the other to try and miss these great craters!
Mrs W and I awake on Sunday morning feeling not too bad. We forced ourselves to stay up 'til around 10 pm local time before retiring. Local time is 4 hours in front of GMT, so it was gone 2am according to our body clocks, when we dropped off to sleep. The sun is shining with a nice 28 deg C temperature as we breakfast on The Redfern's sun deck. Around 11 am we wander down to the local dinghy sailing club to watch some HobyCat racing to while away the time 'til lunchtime.
We are introduced to numerous ex-pats who live in this paradise island, many of whom have interesting tales to tell, and manymore who are just bores!
Lunch with some old neighbours from Froyle and then to the horse race course. Well, this was a real treat....quite a sight with everything set up just like Ascot or Goodwood....except this is Nevis. Firstly your ears are assaulted with very loud reggae music, your nostrils are filled with the wonderful smells of Caribbean food being cooked on BBQs and spits, the air is full of excitement and anticipation as we await the start of the races. This is where things change, firstly the race times given on the card bear absolutely resemblance to actual start times. The second surprise is there are only 3 horses! Yes I mean 3 horses for all the 4 scheduled races. Yes, you've guessed, the same 3 horses, the only difference is they change the names of the nags for each race and the jockeys swap colours between each race. Bloody amusing! There is a tote, no each way bets, on the nose only.....even if you win you seem to get back less than your original bet!
Still we had a great time all washed down with copious rum punches. We bimble back to the Redfern colonial mansion pretty exhausted for a light supper and an early night.....

More stuff from Fatty and Skinny in paradise

Yep, another day dawns with azure blue skies. I begin with some doubts regarding the day's plans....first a walk around the Island's main resort's golf course....well the old knee ain't that good but I thought I should show willing. To follow was an afternoon sailing trip with a small group on a chartered yacht including snorkelling and some real travel under sail. On return from this we were to take late afternoon tea with an acquaintance of The Redferns. The sailing was not going to bother me, but I was apprehensive for Mrs W who get seasick on a children's swing, let alone haring across the ocean of a smallish sailing boat. For meself, I was a bit concerned about the swimming bit, not the actual swimming, more getting off and on the boat with the stupid bloody knee! The walk proved entertaining as I managed to do the circuit as planned, about 3.5 miles. I was a bit like a naughty boy, lagging along at the back of the group kicking stones, but determined to finish the walk. As a real amateur golfer golfer myself, I felt a bit sorry for an American bloke who playing alone caught up with us lot at the wrong time. We had stopped for a moments rest and a beaker of water just by the 15th tee when he was finishing the 14th hole. He then had to tee off with us lot steadfastly watching him....I felt for him as there's nothing worse than having an audience as you are going to strike the tiny little ball with a very long stick. I read his lips as he addressed the ball and I swear he said 'please God, let me hit this ball'....as luck had it, he connected beautifully, the ball sailed away up into the air, only problem, it landed a long way from the green, but you could see the relief written all over his face! We returned to the beach a couple of hours later to rendezvous with those who were going to spend the afternoon on the yacht. I hadn't realised that we were to be picked up in a little inflatable dinghy from the beach.....you may recall that fatty does weigh around 100 kilos and his centre of gravity is about 10 degrees North of his belly button. Therefore, clambering aboard this rib was a bit of a tortuous experience! Imagine my horror when the skipper said 3 more can get in now....as far as I could see the water was already precariously close to the gunnels with just me aboard and surely another 3 would sink us for certain....undaunted, 3 more got on board and thankfully the seas stayed a couple of centimetres below sinking us. Once aboard the yacht drinks were served, always puts the world in a different light does a couple of rum punches! We set sail and a splendid time was had by all. I even managed the snorkelling, a first for me and I admit it was splendid to see the many colourful fish and even a large turtle lazily swimming by..... A brisk sail back to the beach and away to high tea with loads of perfectly made little sarnies and a choc gateau to finish.....bloody good day! We returned home via a beach bar to watch the setting sun, oh, and drink some more rum punch....I do believe these punches are growing on me, I must keep practicing! By the time we leave I may even get to like them. Cheers Rob Fatty and Skinny before snorkelling Fatty making the tide rise More to follow..... Rob