Seeking C+I

Beez Neez now Chy Whella
Big Bear and Pepe Millard
Tue 15 Mar 2011 23:55
Seeking Customs and Immigration, Grand Turk, Turks and Caicos Islands
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
After a cutthroat game of Backgammon after breakfast, we assembled ourselves to go off seeking C+I. Two yachts near us are still flying yellow flags, we are made of sterner stuff. No dinghy dock, we planned to pull Baby Beez up the beach, but two beautifully young men (topless and toned) appeared from the dive centre and hauled her out as if she weighed nothing. I had to gather my pulse rate while Bear asked for a bin and  where we would find Customs. He was directed into town, the first two storey building would be Immigration, go past it and Customs would be on the right. Off we strolled. No sooner than we had cleared the beach area than the backsack was dropped, a man on a mission crossed the road, index finger at the ready. I swear he is getting worse when it comes to cannons.
 
 
 
 
 
 
Clearly hurricane damaged (we later found out by Hurricane Hugo) the building behind the cannon looked too interesting for me not to go and have a nose. We found out it had been a scientific research centre for the improvement of growing rice of all things. In every room of this long, very ruined building there were test tubes, many still in their Styrofoam cartons and research papers as if waiting for a man in a white coat to appear, microscope twitching.
 
 
 
 
 
A little way down the road and guess who, I am getting seriously sick of this bloke keep getting his neb in - makes me want to seek Captain James Cook for a change
 
 
 
 
We had gone a fair distance, found a 'One Careful Owner' with its back to the salt pond, had nearly reached the airport - admiring the space landing shuttle that John Glenn splashed down in, when low and behold a bus stopped. A Puerto Rican voice asked where we were going. He was on his way to pick up a cruise ship party to tour them around the island, but he said he had time to drop us outside Immigration. We entered the building where we had been dropped and while Bear was having his ear gently chewed that he should have gone to Customs first - which is BACK WHERE WE STARTED FROM. Nonetheless, this burly lady took pity on Bear and handed the forms he would have to fill in for her, ready for later, on his return. Meantime I busied myself in the waiting room learning about Alien Invaders.
 
 
 
 
 
 
I had no idea that the Lionfish was becoming such a pest. I had read in a magazine that people were being encouraged to hunt and eat them to control numbers (only the barbs are toxic, not the meat). Their numbers are increasing generally and they are eating the local fish that graze on reef algae; uncontrolled algae growth leads to imbalanced reef ecosystems. The DECR is leading control by mobilising divers to hunt them and encouraging local restaurants to add them to their menu.
 
 
 
 
 
 
Very interesting, I thought I would tell Bear all about the Cedar trees planted in the time of salt production that were leaching the land and stopping the national flower from growing, let's face it, we had plenty of time to chat on the long walk back toward Customs. I asked if he recognised the bird at the top of the Crest, looks like a sandpiper with a beak attitude - Oh a happy camper. Well a little way further and we were hot and thirsty, seeing a refreshment sign we diverted smartly. Into the Salt Museum (own blog).
 
 
   
 
 
 
Only on an island would you see an ass cross the road, a lady on a bike - not just with a bike riding supporter - but a man with spares, bikes and all following along in a golf cart, plus bored dog
 
 
 
 
 
Add a couple of 'One Careful Owners' - all as the lady who gave us a lift from the museum dropped us and drove on her merry way. Well despite being in the right car park, like all ports, many buildings most looking the same, we asked several more people until we walked through a semi-wrecked hangar to find the ever elusive Customs in the far end, actually we had found the staff entrance, we even got lost trying to find the front door. I nearly kissed a cherubic but surprised official who didn't know a brace of people could look so relieved to see him. He was very sweet, seeing our tired, hot faces he rang Immigration and they drove down to see us, right here. A very tall man with a rubber stamp and his flies undone - tricky trying to give the sober façade required in front of C+I Officer. Makes for a whole new take on 'Armed and Extremely Dangerous'. All I could think to ask was what bird was at the top of his crest on his chest, at least that made me look up and busy my eyes from wandering to the nether regions again. 'Oh that's our national bird, the pelican". Still looks like a bloody sandpiper with a big beak. Time to take happy, now legally imported to the Turks and Caicos, for a long cold local beer..................
 
 
 
 
 
.......................now at twenty to five, we can sit and watch a couple snorkeling in the beautiful water, whilst we sip cold suds in Jack's Bar on the beach. Actually I had to by the bar vest - a Sandy Vagina logo emblazoned on the front. ITS A COCKTAIL, OK. To cheer my friend up I bought him a t-shirt with a scrawny fish that says "Bass Ackwards" Just how I feel. There, There Bear, all done. So from leaving Beez a half nine, we return to her logged in, just in time for sunset. Could be worse, it can take up to three days to clear into India, so we have been warned and you have to let the Australian Authorities know when you get into their waters. Ho Bloody Ho.
 
 
 
 
ALL IN ALL NOT A BAD WAY TO SPEND A DAY
                     HUH, CAN SEE WHY SOME DON'T BOTHER
                     THERE, THERE BEAR. THERE, THERE
 
 
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