Monday, March 8, 2010

Sunday morning, sand and hung over, Brits.

Beautiful day. Grabbed some breakfast and head to the beach. I've got my rum, my book (buy the way, Chelsea Handler is a very, funny, writer), my Tilly hat, and I'm heading for some sand!

I've got my chair pulled into the shade, Deb's already in the water, and I decide to walk over to the dive shop to see what trips they have planned for the day. I wouldn't have even noticed the old, British guy from the run in at the computer last night, if he hadn't said something first. Sounded like, "Ee! mumble, mumble, computer, mumble!" At first I just let it go, after all, I don't want to give him a REAL reason to think I'm, "An Ugly American". But after a few seconds, it starts to get to me, and I'm getting pissed. I asked nicely, to get off the computer so he and his friends could have it, I didn't do anything to this guy, and he's making me out to be the bad guy? I decide I'm going to talk to him. Or AT him, any way.

Deb thinks I should wear a t-shirt at all times that says, "Don't get me started. You know how I get!" She might be right.

I walk over to this guy, and he's sitting next to one of the women he was with last night, maybe, "The Mrs." I don't know, but she see's me coming, and it appears, is trying to get UNDER her lounge chair. A nearly 300 pound, almost six foot tall, American in a Tilley hat, holding a glass of rum at eleven o'clock on a Sunday morning, can be nothing but trouble.

"Excuse me, may I ask you a question? What part of, "Excuse me, may I close my Face Book page on that computer I was using and then you can have it back." was the RUDE part that caused you to go nuts on me?"

"Bloody, Yanks, mumble, mumble, get some manners!"

"Well, I asked you as nicely as I could to let me back on for a minute, and you went nuts. Now I don't know how much you had to drink last night (I've hit a nerve here, judging by the expression on his face. He looks like the thousands of guys I've arrested over the years who are sloppy drunk, but act really surprised when you mention it to them just before you place them in handcuffs) but you made a complete ass of yourself last night."

The, "wife" or what ever is unusually interested in her book right now, and she wouldn't dare look up at me if my head was on fire.

"Mumble, you're an ass, mumble, mumble..."

"And as for, "We know what country YOUR from!"remark? I'm from the country that's the reason YOUR country isn't speaking, German. So, Fuck You." And I walked off. I have to say, it felt pretty good.

That night, we had dinner at a restauraunt that, Frommer's said was one of the best, and it's close to, Coyaba, but they said to take a cab. That streetch of beach can be home to machete wielding bandits at night, and having left my guns at home, I didn't want to take on a machete with my pocket knife.

Coconut Beach is a VERY popular restauraunt, so we had made a reservation. We were seated immediatly, and ignored for quite some time after that. I'm ok with the concept of, "Island Time" and while on vacation, I'm not in a hurray. But 20 minutes before they took our drink order? That's a bit much.

The food was awesome. Pumpkin soup for starters, "Spice Bay" lobster is sauted in butter and spices, and then put back into the shell, so you don't even have to struggle to get it out. Baked sweet potato's. Really a great meal. Really slow service. If this place is so popular, why not hire some more help? Every table was full, and there was a line outside, they can afford it.

At the end of the meal, I did something I haven't done since I was a kid, and, Fernwood's was still open in, The Cottonwood Mall. I ordered a, Bannan Split for desert! It wasn't as big as THOSE, Bannan Split's were. One bannan and a scoop of, nutmeg ice cream, but it was awesome.

On my list of stuff you should take my word for because I get around, is try nutmeg, and fresh, coconut ice cream in, The Caribbean. If you can't do that, try the coconut from, Spotted Dog Creamery here in, Salt Lake. Only the sea air and sand in your shoes away from being as good as it is down there.

Monday sucked, and then we came home. Deb's back problem was back, spent the day in the room. Are room service for dinner, but it was great. Tuesday was a nightmare. Four airports, three airplanes, and a blind woman in a wheel chair because she can't walk.

At the Grenada airport, I get paged to come to the security screening area. This can't be good. I had bought a plastic, 1.75 lietr bottle of good rum a few days before, still had half of it, and tossed it into my checked luggage to bring home. Can't do that, they tell me. So I tell the kid to take it out, and enjoy it. I'm not staying an extra day to drink it. If I'd known this, I'd have left it for the nice lady that cleaned my room everyday.

Got up at 01:30 MST in Grenada, flew to Puerto Rico, then to, Atlanta, then to, SLC and arrived here at 20:30 hours MST that night. You do the math. It's a LONG trip!

I have to say, if you can go to, Grenada, do. Grand Anse Beach might be the best beach we've ever been on. The island is beautiul, the people are wonderful (the exception? One, old, drunk, Brit) and, Coyaba is an awesome resort. But be prepared for the trip. It takes longer to get there than to, Paris. Almost as long as it does to fly to Asia.

Delta is supposed to be doing a New York to Grenada non-stop shortly. If they do, I'd go to New York for a couple of day, and then fly to Grenada. I heart NY!

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