Sunday 4 March 2018

 

Ambling through town, togged out in white shirt and longs.  I get this from the chums in the fruit market - "Goin' to church,  man?"  Yep, to St Mary's,. 9.30 am kick off and what a great time. Formal service, with robes, processions and bells, old-school hymns, then a paradigm shift before communion when the band and the choir start giving it large with full-on gospel.  Reminded me a bit of the James Brown bit in Blues Brothers, without the preacher man doing the wild stuff. Loads of meaningful and moving items, including "Happy birthday" for Vesta who is 96 today - a tiny lady who walks to the church each Sunday from a house up the hill.  I felt very privileged to be there, in Bequi, Diocese of the Windward Islands.

 

 

 

 

 

 

The fruit and veg market

 

We decide to stay a bit longer in Bequi, a bit of a no-brainer really.  The dock is nice, but it is better to anchor out in the huge, protected bay.  This we do without fuss, dropping the hook and thinking about a swim before lunch.  We left the passarel in place, so it makes a nice diving board for intrepid Mike.  I went to the end of it, but I was in “au naturel” mode, and I chickened out in case something valuable got damaged by diving.   If you wanted a swim in the sea, and dialled up the perfect temperature, you would get what we got.

 

 

 

 

 

We realised that by a supreme effort of will we had left Glenn's birthday bottle of Laurent Perrier in the fridge. (Or more truthfully, we have had such a hectic social life that simply didn't have time).  Well that had to go, sitting in the cockpit in the warm sun.  Lunch (for those who care about these things) was a reprise of last night's braised chicken - cold with added goodies and pitta bread. And yet another Gilbert special dessert.  This one was papaya, banana, grapes, yogurt  and a crumbled McVitie's biscuit.  Eat your heart out, Delia.