I'd like to
preface this with an apology to everyone because of the time taken since our last blog . Relative and visitors have been staying with us and it’s been wonderful having them here.

It really hasn’t taken us that long to get back into the groove of Island life. The other morning for example we went to a store selling kitchen and catering equipment looking for bits and pieces when we saw what must have been one of the biggest birthday cakes ever. Probably a metre long and not that much shorter in the width. To set the scene though, we were the only customers in this big shop. Very soon, one of the assistants came over asking us if we’d like some cake with the rest of the staff. So, not being reticent and always ready for a party whatever the time of day, ( 10.30 a.m. in this case) gladly joined in with the rest of them in wishing the 'office manager’ a very very happy 50th birthday. The cake was just delicious along with proper coffee..... and I just wondered where else except here on St Maarten could you be invited to and also be expected to join in a total strangers birthday party, in a big store, and in
the middle of the day . I certainly don’t know of anywhere else at all. But it just seems to happen right here on this friendly island.

Just to make sure we’re always up for it, decided (and you’re just not going to believe this AT ALL!) we needed to go on holiday! Now can you actually believe me saying something like this; and with us living here! .... So having made the decision, went online and discovered we could fly to St Kitts (its real name is really St Christopher’s, but nobody ever calls it that), which is only about twenty minutes flying time away. So, booked us on the local airline (LIAT... which stands for Luggage In Another Terminal; or Leaves the Island Any Time..... and there are so many acronyms for LIAT it’s unbelievable). Flyinf with them reminds me of the Beetles Song from the 60's... A Magical Mystery Tour.... because they have actually been known to take off without any of the passengers on board. And even the hostess said nothing about this to the pilot either that there were just no passengers on board . And off they went............. So it is a rather an exciting airline to fly on! You certainly have to keep all your wits about you, or you can literally be left behind.

Back to where I was... and also booked us into the Marriott which is apparently the only good place to stay. Packed our small overnight bags for the trip, and would you believe it actually flew off on the first early morning flight out. Arriving at St Kitts airport twenty minutes later were two of the three people getting off the plane (the locals call it deplaning. Never heard of that word, but I live and learn over here!) We use these little aircraft (which can carry about twenty passengers), just like busses when getting around the islands. The only problem you may have is that although LIAT may say going directly to St Kitts or wherever, the pilot may well decide to go somewhere else first, and then, and only if he so wishes, to go to where it says on the list of places he has to get to! It’s just so Weird . Can’t imagine that happening in Europe. Just unheard of; and the pilot would be drummed out of the Scouts or Brownies as well.......

So back to the plot.... the Marriott was ok. Not brilliant, but ok! And the least said about the island the better..... hmmm! And now I know why we made our choice to live where we do on the wonderful Dutch side of St Maarten.

One of the islands great milestone events is the "My Beautiful Ram competition." Held in a small village in the middle of the island somewhere, and sponsored by a beer company called Presidenté. In fact, we went to the event the week before, and on the way there the heavens opened and the roads turned into raging torrents of water so not even the well groomed goat (or if there are more than one they call them goatses) could get there. The locals have a dialect of plurals all to themselves. For example... one rock, two rockses; one goat, two goatses and so on. Makes life quite interesting when talking to them as well and trying hard to understand
what they’re saying . So we ended up there the following weekend instead. Setting the scene, it was held in a small open area in the middle of a village in the Colombie District. The sound system with the obligatory over sized; huge speakers and a stage onto which the lucky (if that’s what you can call them) contestants will be pulled, dragged, or in some cases held back as they want to prance round and chase all the other contestants in the centre of the stage. There simply is no telling what the goat or goatses will do. Their owners seem to find it quite impossible to train them properly. There were also a few open sided marquees in which there were tables and chairs, then the obligatory bar serving only Presidenté beers and finally we come to the food. Yes, every event must have food. The population here has an insatiable appetite while they’re enjoying themselves. On the island we have what they call LoLo’s; and this stands for locally owned & locally run food...........emporiums. And I use that word with
quite a lot of trepidation as well as trying giving them a posh name . The reality is that they are simply nothing more that glorified barbeques; black from the years of cooking with a type of
cover over it which has a small chimney out of which belches smoke. And this is what they cook on at all major outdoor events. And now for the menu..... Give you two guesses what was on it ... , and believe me it’s quite true...... curried goat...... goat stew....... goat soup.... goat pie    and if they could have managed it, goat sushi.... and everything to do with goat! I just could not believe it either. It made me wonder if the food people were eating were the actual contestants
that never made the cut. No pun intended. The only thing that wasn’t goat was the coconut ice cream actually being churned by hand. It was quite delicious. It had to be a posh do with us there, because the new Prime Minister of the Dutch side also turned up as an invited guest no doubt and yes, you guessed it, she also made a speech. (aren’t all politicians all the same.) And since we were there, she had to have her picture taken with me . Hope you like it. And where
else but here can a Prime Minister turn up dressed in denims and a big hat; don’t you just love it?

So the poor goatses were dragged on, paraded round, made to stand at the front of the stage and werethen led off. And all this to the excited jabbering of the announcer who must have been the worlds expert on goatses no doubt by the way he confidently told you all about each and every one. He announced one of the goatses, number 5, ‘Richie’ and was quickly corrected by ‘Richie’s’ owner who was standing in the audience that the goats name had only recently been changed, in fact only a couple of days before, but the owner could not remember what he had changed to! (Are you confused yet?) so the announcer decided that the goat in question would still be called ‘Richie’ for now, much to the owners confusion; and the competition continued......

Anyway, to cut a long story short, the level of disorganised chaos reigns supreme in all these sorts of events and one simply has to go with the flow of things . I mean that instead of starting at ten in the morning, it was definitely closer to 12.30 by the time the MC sauntered in to kick things off. And as it was on the French side, they always have to have speeches; something we had really hoped to miss. No such luck that day. And I also discovered that they can talk about
nothing, and I really mean nothing for quite a long time as well. So we walked round checking out the contestants tethered to trees and eating anything they could get to. Hope you like the
pictures, especially the one of the Goat with a for sale sign round it’s neck, he was one of last year’s winners, hoping to avoid the pot!

And suddenly, the fire dancer from Boston was back. Yep, the old man was back and up to his usual hippie stuff again; asking the DJ to turn the music up and doing his weird dancing thing. Please click on picture which turns into a video. You’ll love it I’m sure! We did not stay till the end as we Had to go off to another beach party on Orient bay where we saw children being put into a ball and then dragged off into the water. Pease click on the video and you’ll see what I mean. What fun don’t you think?