But that’s
not really important or relevant to this post.
Split One:
My parents first couple days
Mom and Dad
flew in on Wednesday evening, September 4th. Ivan and I met them at the airport and took a
taxi to their resort, The Grenada Grand (über swanky!), before
taking an evening stroll down to “Wall Street” (a strip of financial
institutions and other businesses), which is appropriately referred to as “Street
Meat” when night vendors take over the strip and sell meats and drinks. We had some drinks and got my parents some
food. Mom had grilled tuna and Dad got
barbequed pigtails. Sounds gross,
right? Surprisingly delicious!
On Thursday
we had a pretty relaxing time touring around the campus and swimming in the
crystal waters just outside of their resort.
We had breakfast at Le Papillion (a French breakfast restaurant) and my
parents got their first real taste of Caribbean heat and humidity.
On Friday,
we went on an island tour with a few friends and Mom and Dad. We visited Grenada Rum Distillers (Clarke’s
Court), where Dad and Kevin tried the “White Ball” rum which boasts a 75%
alcohol content. Then we went to Grand
Etang where we were unfortunately unsuccessful in seeing any monkeys. We did bring a few bananas and not for
nothing since there were two very skinny dogs hanging around. After they’d scarfed down the bananas, Kevin
began feeding them some peanut butter crackers he’d brought as a snack. The pups seemed pretty pleased about the
meal.
We drove
past Pearl’s Airport so my parents could get a glimpse of the old Cuban planes
and the cows tied up to the wreckage. As
we continued north, we drove through the city of Grenville where we stopped for
lunch. Our driver, Leslie, knew of a
cafeteria-style restaurant where we were able to fill up on some really
delicious local cuisine.
Next we
visited Belmont Estate Cocoa Plantation where our excellent tour guide was kind
enough to show us the monkeys they keep.
So Mom and Dad were able to see some of the Mona monkeys, even if they
didn’t show at Grand Etang. We all
bought chocolate candy bars and truffles as souvenirs before heading back out.
That was
the end of our island tour for the day; so we had Leslie drop us off at La
Boulangerie (an Italian restaurant with a huge menu of pastas) for dinner. There we ate our fill and headed back out for
one more stop: the Fort Bar.
After
seeing pictures of the creepy spiders (tailless whip scorpions) and dank
tunnels at Fort Matthew, Mom and Dad wanted to check it out. So Friday evening, we made our way to the
fort and spent a couple hours relaxing in the red-lit caves, sipping on cold
drinks and chatting. We made our way
through the ruins as well and admired the view of the city from the top of the
fort. Below, in the tunnels, with
flashlight on, we scouted for the nightmarish tailless whip scorpion. We found a couple husks of dead spiders,
dangling ominously in other spiders’ webs (the tailless whip scorpions are not
spiders and thus do not spin webs).
Finally, Ivan cast the light into a wide hole and there, poised in
mid-attack was a creepy tailless whip scorpion.
We were all shocked and gave the hole a wide berth to let the scorpion finish
its business. But then it didn’t
move. It just stayed frozen in a
ferocious stance. Dad leaned forward and
blew at it. The scorpion toppled over,
long dead, stuck in an awkwardly aggressive position. We moved on, happy we saw some dead ones, to
at least show Mom and Dad their size and what they look like, but disappointed
also that we weren’t going to see a live one.
As we made
our way towards the green ambient light of the bar, Ivan stopped and spun the
flashlight beam against the wall. There,
a tailless whip scorpion was slowly creeping towards a crevice in the craggy
tunnel. Dad broke out his camera and
quickly snapped off a couple of photos while Ivan poked at it with a long piece
of glass to keep it from slipping into the shadowy recesses of the tunnel
wall. After we successfully got a couple
photos, we let the tailless whip scorpion amble away and we returned to our
drinking stations victorious.
Split two: The hash
So, yeah,
hashing was definitely on the to-do list while Mom and Dad were visiting. Dad’s a pretty enthusiastic runner and takes
to the trails when he can, so hashing seemed to be right up his lane. Mom’s a social butterfly and likes a good
hike as much as the next person. Of
course, not all hashes are created equally and I didn’t know if this particular
hash would turn out to be a nice, moderately difficult hike with beautiful
views, or an outrageously long, backbreaking journey with beautiful views. Either way, my folks were signed up.
Saturday
afternoon, we caught the bus that took us up the west coast of the island to
(Kirani James’ hometown) Gouyave (pronounced gwav). Mom met with the girls she’s be completing
the walkers’ trail with and we all crowded around the hash master as he
delivered news about upcoming events, directions for the hash and (for the
newbies) how to hash. Then we were ON!
ON!
I was still
on a round of pretty potent meds (remember how I mentioned not feeling well?)
and totally overestimated my ability to perform in that state. Of course, even if that were not the case, my
dad still would have smoked us, which he totally did. On our first uphill, we lost him. We didn’t see him again until we made it to
the finish.
The hash
itself was lovely, as usual, with a great mix of terrain and elevation. There was some mud, but not much. Mostly we were on grass and dirt trails, with
a little creek action as well. We met up
with a couple friends, one of which was also a little under the weather, and
kept each other company throughout the rest of the hash. Towards the end, we came across a lone little
(tiny, really) puppy. In keeping with
Grenada’s standard of animal care, the poor thing was drenched in fleas and
underweight. It also had a ribbon (red
shoelace, maybe?) tied around its neck.
The loop was already pretty tight and we could foresee an embedded
collar issue in the very near future.
Unfortunately, none of us had a knife or any way to cut the ribbon
off. So we waited while Nick worked and
worked at the knot and, finally, was able to get the ribbon off of the
puppy. We left the little guy there
because we didn’t know if he was owned or if anyone was looking to adopt a
puppy, but at least we were able to take that hazardous noose off of his neck!
When we
arrived at the finish to the usual pumping bass from the dance music blaring
around the drink tents, we found Mom and Dad enjoying some refreshing beers and
watching a local man on stilts dancing in the road. We all had some oil down (the national dish)
for dinner and enjoyed the post-hash party, which included the de-virginization
ceremony. Mom and Dad, having been
first-time hashers and, therefore, virgin hashers, were a part of the ending
ceremony. All virgin hashers were called
to the front of the group and addressed by the hash master. He assigned them all a de-virginization
certificate, before the whole group was asked to embrace and ceremonially
sprayed with beer.
It may not
sound like fun to everyone out there, but Mom and Dad had a blast. It’s just too bad that they were only around
for one hash.
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