CARIBBEAN MUSE CHAPTER 4

Next port of call was St. Thomas island. Was up early and got to see the docking. Island was beautiful in the early morning dawn. Twinkling lights racing up the hills. Actually looked much better in the dark. The dock area was a little seedy except for the "made for tourist" duty free stores and the inevitable Diamonds International store that seem to spring up like ocean flowers on every spit of land.

A myriad of conveyances kept pulling up. Taxis, open air buses, pirate ships, catamarans, private cars (which we were warned about). Yes, I said pirate ships. Apparently the area was known as quite the hangout for the buccaneers including a private castle supposedly inhabited by Blackbeard himself. Modern day pirates use cell phones and wear designer jeans.

Not knowing, we did not book any adventures, but apparently it is definitely worth the price of admission to take the island tours and head to the beach. The open air buses with no seat belts become a dubious safety zone as you make one of the hairpin turns up the mountain and see the passage of your life from a straight drop away zone beneath your trembling gaze. Apparently most of the tourists make it back alright, with the usual allowances for the late returnees, usually singing.

We took a bus into town and were assailed from beginning to end with "need a ride back? come see what we have in here. want to take a tour? buy me, no buy me" Wait that was me looking at jewelry and clothes. As we were the only ship in port at the time the pleas for our attention and our dinero were actively and aggressively sought. Felt kind of special-not.

The open air flea markets are a gas. One gentleman was totally decked out in kind of an African, island outfit complete with feathers covering pertinent parts. The designer sandals and perfect American accent kind of detracted from that, but what the hey-his kink. Still don't know what he was selling as I was kind of mesmerized by his garb.

Retraced our steps with the Blaszaks to an open air establishment as we believed they advertised bathrooms. Very important to mark the locations of those on your tour. Of course it meant we had to re-enter the vendor gaunlet which put them into an absolute frenzy of audible advertising believing their entreaties led to our overwhelming need to come back and buy whatever the heck they were selling. If anything, it got crazier. At any rate we went back to a place that was, and I am not kidding, a bar in a jewelry store! It led to my contemplation of which came first the bar or the jewelry store? (kind of a chicken and egg scenario). Either you needed a drink to drown your sorrows over all you spent on jewelry or you needed to gird your financial loins before you plunked down your gold pieces for their gold pieces.

At any rate, I did not take much persuading to go back as they offered us a small sample of something called a "bushwhacker" on the street as we passed by. Very tasty with an ice cream texture. The thought of the jewelry store in the bar will now become clear. We sat down at the open air bar and ordered bushwhackers. Without measuring, the proprietor poured bottle after bottle of various rums into a previously prepared blender full of ice. An entire shelf is dedicated to this enterprise. He ground it all up and then topped it off with another bottle of "who knows what" and served it. I did not know that many kinds of rum existed, but absolutely delicious. We were warned that touristas the other day had drunk 5 apiece and were carried out, so we stuck with one.

We were further entertained by a local musician who had moved to the island from Philadelphia and thus sparked a friendly argument on the advantages of winter. I think I won when I said well people from the north live longer. No doubt from struggling and surviving all the cold weather. They may live shorter lives, but on the islands time goes slower. Hmmm - tie I guess.