Grenadines and More, Part Two
After our Bequia fiasco, we are hoping for adventure on another island. The kids have grown tired of the dilapidated water toys, and we are ready for some more exploring.
Sometimes a five star hotel turns out to be a three star hotel. This is one of those. We are dismayed to find that all the good press was for naught on this beautiful tranquil island. Our villa stands upon the appropriately-named Windy Hill. This really is the name of the location. The first night is great for the boys in their temporary room with its beautiful vista of the Caribbean, and a private patio enjoying a full expanse of sun. But Craig and I are stuck on Windy Hill the entire time. Gale force winds howl through the shutters each night, resulting in a fierce racket. Attempted to quiet the din with earplugs with no success... Lexi sleeps peacefully, blissfully unaware of the hurricane exposure on the top of the hill.
The boys are required to relocate; Craig and I were aware of this moving of quarters and thusly did not take the lodgings that they had enjoyed, albeit only for a brief time. They too are now on Windy Hill, with no view except for the jungle in front of their porch. Their private beach is replaced by a dog-pen-like area surrounded by a picket fence. Although dismayed and rather surprised to have been moved from their luxury surroundings, they accept their new location with good grace. Conner asks Austin to apply sunscreen to his back. Austin readily agrees, but with some stipulations. First Conner must bow to Austin ten times and then break five sticks over his (Conner’s) head. Must say that I am slightly amused, as this brings back fond memories of torture treatments that I concocted for my little sister.
We assemble for breakfast. The wait staffs are marvelous; they are friendly and want the boys and Lexi to play soccer with them that evening. Bored with us, the kids readily acquiesce. Spend that day entertaining ourselves with Scrabble, reading and, of course, a rousing game of tennis: all things non-electronic as there is no Internet, television or phone on the island. We are forced to talk to each other, which is a novel experience with three teenagers. Conner actually removes his sweatshirt hood from his head to join in some conversation. Usually he looks like some kind of gangster wannabe with no skin exposure and hair hanging down to his nose.
Craig and I settle ourselves on the expansive deck to watch our three diligent soccer players take on the locals. Austin seems to be playing “bareback”. Later when we question him about this, he replies; “I must get my sweat glands used to this climate”. Have no idea where he came up with this nonsense; he is not helping us make a good impression as the visiting players, as I am sure he leaves a tremendous odor during his short running bursts after the ball.
When later asked about this at dinner, he ignores us and attempts explanations to hapless waiter and possible friend on “off sides.” Conner hides his head in his hands. Austin then laments that his team had to run uphill. Conner sighs loudly and wonders if Austin has any social graces. Was just having a similar thought about my firstborn. He seems to be blissfully unaware of this. We finish dinner, contemplating what adventures the next day may hold...to be continued
