Friendship Bay Beach Hotel Bequia

Bailey dropped us at the ferry dock and we are finally on our way to Bequia. It was an easy 1 hour ferry ride from St Vincent to Bequia. There was no shortage of cabs when we disembarked. Tha cabs are all pick up trucks with covered beds and padded seating. We felt a little strange hopping in the first time but it will become second nature in the coming days. We checked into our accomodations at Lower Bay (all of the beaches are called Bays ...

... and exhausted! Well, may as well try and make it, I thought, so gritted my teeth and dragged myself upward with burning thighs…..and then the real hardship began – we were now in the cloud and it was cold – really cold – and then the wind started whipping across the area just below the rim of the crater and nearly blew us over. We huddled together and ate our lunch still being buffeted by the howling wind waiting for the cloud to ...

According to Jimmy Buffet's latest Caribbean cliché, somewhere out on that tranquil expanse of turquoise water, lingering on what seems to be the edge of the world, there is a spit of sand playing host to the grandest party of all. Although there is no place called Margaretville and no such sandwich as a Cheeseburger in Paradise, Mr. Buffet is actually right about there being a party at the end of the world. I found this party ...

A man of the sea lays asleep in the sand. Being a sailor, he feels constrained and claustrophobic at the thought of a tent. The natural cover of the tropical sky, dense with a cloud of stars, and a couple of coconut burdened palm trees provide him with shelter. He sleeps soundly, rocked into REM by the soothing seduction of the Caribbean's rhythmic waves. His small, wooden boat, bobs in the natural bay where it waits, anchored ...

... bottles and no open container laws! Just like in Dubuque, I saunter up to the bar and order a beer. My wife, who has been itching to dance and I, fearful of the insufficiency of my white boy moves in a crowd that has the night's rhythm running through their veins, politely refuse. Finally, she is ushered to the dance floor by a young local gentleman who understands how to move his hips, legs and shoulders all at the same time and somehow not ...

... in an effort to replenish the Southern Caribbean's rapidly disappearing turtle population. Mr. King started the project when he was camping on the beach now located adjacent to the site. While sleeping under the stars he was awakened by the unsettling feeling that someone was throwing sand at him. As he cautiously came out of his slumber he saw at his feet a mother sea turtle laying her eggs. Fascinated by ...

... is stunning with its unique art museum and beautiful parks and beaches. There is no doubt that they will enjoy their new life in Milwaukee and it was great to catch a glimpse of what it will be. We look forward to visiting once their move is complete. Bill took us to the Miller campus but we will have to wait until another visit for the full tour. While we were in Evanston, Al made an overnight trip east to attend part of his 40th reunion at Union College in Schenectady, NY ...

... Maggie Mitchell gave us the tour. Her and her husband spend the winters in Bequia running the studio, and return home to Colchester for the summer. The studio is in the restored ruins of the old Spring Plantation Sugar Mill - very interesting architecturally. Most of the pictures are on film, so the blog will have to wait until we get home ...

... language reserved for my brothers and Uni housemates. All of this 10ft from the running camera. Because we lost an oar, we slewed off to the side, and the boat behind us panicked and rammed the camera boat straight amidships, I missed it, but apparently my mate who was bowman on that boat actually headbutted the camera screen as his boat rammed the director's. There was a long embarrassing silence as people realised that actually that wasn't scripted, and headbutting the ...

... goats and lizards didn't strike me as being so odd? Anyway, these narrow roads with all the obstacles are all carved into the side of the mountain. That means that I was usually on the cliff side of the road. The driver was lucky and got to be on the inside. So there we would go, driving periously close to the edge then another car would come along and we would move even CLOSER TO THE EDGE! I was holding on for dear life. I guess I ...