Sunset in the Bahamas

Nassau 2001……..

So here we are, six months in already.  Finally felt at home last weekend when over the bank holiday weekend it rained non stop for five days. There must be a special Bank Holiday weather curse, which works throughout the world.  Difference here is that it is still humid and in the mid 80s (which means in a clever, adjusted, sort of way it is really about 99 degs), and I am constantly getting caught out without a brolly or so much as a piece of paper to hold over my head so impersonate a drowned rat on an almost daily basis.

As I start to type this I am watching the golf course being bulldozed.  It now resembles a sort of desert oasis.  There is sand and soil everywhere, much of it in large dune-like piles and the one remaining lake in the centre of the course has had all the palm trees deposited around its edges to keep them alive before they are moved back into place.  No prizes for guessing how it has affected the mosquitoes.  The noisy frogs are also pretty unsettled.   The constant sound of diggers has followed hot on the heels of the disruption caused by the building of our new conservatory and the major renovations on the entire block we live in.  Not very conducive to writing a best seller I must say.  So….we are moving at the end of June to a fab five-bedroom house that is literally on the sea.  I kid you not.  When you look out of the lounge and back bedroom windows all you see is turquoise sea, it is like being on a boat.  When the sea is rough it splashes up onto the patio and hits the lounge windows and leaves behind a film of salt when it dries.  Needless to say it will be horrendous in a hurricane which is why our rent agreement has a clause that the landlord has six hours in which to board up the entire house once a hurricane warning is issued and we get to move out to a hotel (they do special hurricane rates here and evidently it is quite a laugh being hauled up in a Key Largo sort of way for days in the howling wind and rain). No doubt a later letter…..

When the tide is out we have our own little beach and fish and lobsters swim/crawl right up to the shore, so I’m buying a fishing spear and will be able to have fresh lobster from time to time (depending on my Survivor type skills).   The house is neglected but we are getting it for a steal.  The owners are two maiden aunts  who live in an enormous walled house in the centre of old town Nassau and run a children’s clothing shop on Bay Street (the main shopping street ).

When you go into the shop it is like stepping back into the 1950s – stacked wooden shelves behind a long glass topped counter, ladders to retrieve things, hand written receipts etc.  They are pretty legendary here and regarded as the two old dears of Nassau.  Due to some fall out they once didn’t speak to each other for five years or so whilst still working behind the counter of the shop together.  Evidently the one poor assistant they had had to communicate between the two of them.

I walked down the half mile long dirt track to the house the other day and there was an ancient Cadillac parked by the first bunch of coconut trees. I walked up and leaned in (the door was open).  Two women, voluminous in floral dresses and heaving bosoms looked at me and without any introduction one said: “our boy is getting nuts”.  With that a skinny Haitian guy emerged from the back, complete with machete and walked calmly to the first tree, put his machete in his mouth and shinned up it in about 6 fluid movements.  He chopped a couple of coconuts down, came down, picked them up and got back in the car.  No words spoken.  Surreal.

My next-door neighbour (Nassau side) throws the ‘second best’ parties on the island (his cottage has a deck which can hold about 100 people) so I’m looking forward to the 4th July when he will have a raft opposite the house with amazing fireworks.  His friend  (a sort of Swedish Peter Stringfellow living in Lyford Cay, the exclusive gated community in West Nassau) allegedly throws the best parties but you have to be on the closely guarded and even more closely scrutinized guest list.  I was recently invited  to  the opening of his amazing underground and underwater disco/private club.  However it was women guests only, to be filmed by MTV and the dress code was bikinis and stilettos and you had to agree to having your body painted upon arrival.  Ha!

The Good Life, Travel Writing