We’ve been really
busy out here on the island . Visitors have been arriving and it’s been
wonderful to show them around and to get the feeling of where we’re staying. We
absolutely love it. So much so that instead of paying rent every month, decided
to look around and see if there was anything we may liked to buy. So, after looking round the island at lots and
lots of places, decided that where we were (in Simpson Bay), was really the
best. Now it was time to see what was available on the actual complex where we
already lived.

Going to the various estate agents, (Realtors as they are
known over here) started asking what was available. Seeing the eager looks in
their eyes was quite a sight and I wonder why. They were only too happy to take
us to various locations and point out the advantages of living ‘here.’ “So! Why
not put in a low offer now before it’s too late?” As you know, we’re really
fussy about where we live and the style of our life style. They were all so
disappointed when we weren’t totally overjoyed at seeing what they considered
to be ‘the most fantastic bargain of the century!’ in fact, when one ‘realtor’
discovered that we had actually been to another realtor to see what they had
available, I received a phone call informing me, “I thought you were our
client, and what do you mean by going to see them! And ...... asking them.....
what they had!” Well, since we were the customers,....... and we were
paying......, I didn’t have to stand for this shit. Especially from them. So in
so many words advised this particular Realtor that we were nobody’s customer. We were in the
market to buy what we wanted, and would not be railroaded into what they
considered right for us. And......, furthermore, if they didn’t have the right
property, we would definitely be going elsewhere. So that was that! And
everyone knew exactly where they stood. It was only afterwards I found out why they
wanted to keep us to themselves. It all has to do with the commission they
receive from the seller. It’s a whopping and staggering 30% of the sale price.
Well I nearly fell off the chair when I heard that. Wow! 30%

Continuing to scour the papers, all the Realtors sites and
shops, and finally the web, found what might just be it. On our complex, what
seemed like a double fronted apartment with a hammock outside. No sooner said
than done we were on the hunt for the apartment with the hammock . Shouldn’t be
too hard to find really. And there it was! Yes. Just like the picture on the
web. Going straight over to the Realtor introduced ourselves to Jean François
Brehant. A very likeable young Frenchman whose English was somewhat suspect.
Told him we wanted to see the apartment and without any formalities being
completed we entered the apartment. We both knew as we walked through the door that
it was for us. Even without looking around, the feeling was terrific. The view
over the lagoon from both the lounge and bedroom; both rooms recently decorated
as well; so close to our taste as well; a tiny patch of grass; then a low
picket fence; a narrow walkway; and finally my own little dock; (or as they
call it here, a boat slip.) Simply perfect. No other words could explain
exactly how we both felt. Now it was all down to price.

It’s always nice to be able to (and here comes a technical
word, known only to very experienced people and most engineers), bullshit. And
the negotiations were on . To cut a long story short, and with the Realtor
having to catch the ferry to Anguilla (an adjacent island) to discuss our offer
to the vendor on the golf course, came back with as you would expect, a counter
offer. It was at that point I knew we would get the property. Eventually, after
another few days, and quite frantic too-ing and fro-ing by the Realtor (and who wouldn’t for 30%) we
settled on a price.

Now having to juggle a lot of our finances around. And put
the ball in motion regard the local legalities which are mostly Dutch. In the
old school, not the Dutch of the European Union. And I have to tell you now
that nothing...... and I mean nothing happens at any speed over here. Thinking
about it, Monday must actually start some time on Tuesday because, well......
just because it can I suppose. In the system over here, a property can be
bought and sold in literally a matter of a few days. 2 weeks maximum is all the
time it would take if the system ran properly. As it turned out, it took about
2 months, but ........ It’s finally ours. And are we happy. It’s a one bedroom with
pull out sofa bed in the lounge; 2 bathrooms, kitchen/diner, and a stupendous
view over the lagoon. Oh, it also got a small boat slip (dock). Sooner or later
I see a powered dingy coming along. Can’t you?

So, the owners said we could start moving our stuff in even
before the money had been paid. As the new apartment was only about 40 yards
from the place we were renting, it seemed like a doddle to ferry stuff from one
place to the next. We carried several loads to the new place then Dyana started
cleaning it up while I continued to ferry. As I returned for another load,
found the door and the screen open. I knew I had closed both so something was
amiss. And yes it was. Somebody had entered, and was still rummaging around in
the bedroom. (Where was ,Alex our son, when you really needed him to practise
his martial arts on the burglar for real.) I watched the shadow to see if there
was one, or two people in there, and decided there was only one; so being
either brave or totally foolhardy decided to tackle whoever it was. I took my
sandals off. Walked quietly towards the bedroom door. Got close to it and
thought what the hell am I going to do now? And in a flash leapt through it
screaming and shouting. The poor little kid turned from black to white........
terror suddenly in his face. As far as he was the whirling dervish, had
arrived; the army of Genghis Khan and the look of Rasputin the mad monk and was
stalking him. Going towards him. Still screaming and shouting. Well, I’m sure
he never expected this. And as Monty Python put it... ‘and nobody expected the
Spanish Inquisition’ to be bearing down on him. He literally took off. Fled through
a door with me in hot pursuit. Still screaming and shouting at him. Through the
bathroom..... through the kitchen....... through the living room and out onto
the patio. Leaping the low white picket fence as if he were a Thomson gazelle.
I was hoping he’d miss his footing and end up in the water because I was full
of rage and was going to jump on top of him before drowning the little shit!
Damn, damn, damn. He kept his footing and was now running for his life with me
in pursuit. Still screaming and shouting. This young kid was losing me. He was
just so much faster. Maybe that’s what fear and adrenaline does to you. He was
like a thoroughbred race horse sprinting toward the finish line....... and I
was never going to catch him. He scaled a tall wall as if he was a monkey going
up a tree..... I was never going to get over that...... so I did the next best
thing, ran to security.

Like a well oiled machine they took over. Radioing ahead so
to speak. Two cars pulled up asking me
to give them a description of the thief. One of the security drivers said he’d
just seen him, pulling a black shirt over his red one, got onto the radio and
informed the police as well. So, and this takes some beating, within three or four minutes the police had a
roadblock set up about five hundred yards away stopping every person and all the
traffic as well. We pulled up at the road block and I gave a description to the
police again who said they actually knew who the offender was and that he had
evaded them again. And would I kindly go to the police station to fill out a
report. So off to Philipsburg to make a statement. And you will never
guess...... yes..... while waiting there saw two policemen with the young thief. Only now, instead of being the fleeting
racehorse, he was now hobbling and limping. They probably took him round the
back somewhere and told him all about the errors of his ways. So after making a
formal identification of him and making a statement, th ey returned the money
he had stolen. He was in fact a sixteen year old from Porto Rico who was on the
island illegally. And as they put it, would be deporting him back there at some
time. Who knows when.

So back to the apartment where everyone had rallied round Dyana while I
was away. And they would be securing the area where the thief had entered. So,
all’s well that ends well and we continued moving our stuff in and cleaning up
the place. So we’re off to Canada for a wedding and will move in on our return
on the 24th. Never a dull moment!