February 8th, 2000
Okay, so I haven't written anything here for a couple of weeks. Truth be told, there hasn't been too much to say that merits an entry. Life has been pretty much routine and surprisingly unchanged. Dad is still the same, work has been insane, etc and so on.
Had a four day weekend this one just past. It was nice not having to even think about work on Friday or Monday - after dropping Lisa off at her job, I came home and curled up on the bed with the kitties each of the days. Nothing more relaxing than having snoozing cats flaked out on you in various positions, while you bask in the morning sunlight.
Work has been strange of late - either there's not a lot of anything to do or all hell is breaking loose at once. Today is one of those dead zone days - waiting for user responses on certain support issues is the game plan. Other than that, it's clean the office and scratch my butt time.
Well, there are other major jobs on the to-do list, but they require all the network users to be logged out. Can't have that in the middle of the work week now, can we? It's silly. There are some network hassles that can be solved by getting server upgrades in place, but I can't get the upgrades in place without disrupting the daily workflow, so people end up getting the same hassles over and over (and over and over and...) So we end up hearing the complaints ad infinitum, yet are denied the opportunity to effect the repairs that will stop the complaints from happening.
Yee and furthermore haw.
Ook, my pager just went off. Time to put out some more of the same fires, lucky me.
<shortly thereafter> I'm back. Master of the obvious strikes again! T'was a user profile issue that I had to clear up.
At least there's IRC that sits in the background on my pc, lest I get starved for conversation. A clear indicator of how my day has gone is how the conversation thread weaves itself on #north. Though, how it leads to my saying "That explains the striping on me arse." is beyond even my comprehension.
Don't ask.
<moments later> Cool, my computer just went *boom*. Fortunately, I had just saved this Pulitzer Prize winning entry beforehand.
Where was I? Oh yes, my arse. If you ever felt the urge to go irc'ing and yak with yours truly, I can be found on the Undernet in the channel known as #north. I'm commonly known as CanDragon, alias CD, CDWork, CDCoffee, etc.
Oh yeah, I was going to continue my story of our vacation in St. Kitts, wasn't I? <consulting previous entries> Ah yes.
Wednesday - our first excursion outside the resort. We go on an all-day tour of the island of St. Kitts. Our taxi driver Dennis is the head of the island taxi association, so right off we've the best of the bunch. Six of us (4 Brits, Lisa and myself) pile into the Toyota van and off we go. First stop is the capital Basseterre, where we park in the central circle known as The Circus. It's resplendant with touristy shops, full of expensive and mostly useless souvenirs. Chickens roam freely, avoiding being run over by the vehicular traffic. After ten minutes, we're all through with the shops and are itching to get going.
Twenty minutes later, Dennis returns to take us on our way. He asks how our shopping was. Lisa mentions that she needs to pick up some genuine nutmeg shells for our neighbours, who are tending to the plants and mail for us. Dennis tells us it's not a problem; he'll take us where the locals do their shopping. We trundle down narrow side streets until we reach the waterfront, where there's an open air market on one side and small shops along the street on the other. He takes us to a hole-in-the-wall dark-as-can-be store, where we pick up a pound of real nutmeg for just a few dollars US - infinitely less expensive than the tourist traps. Heading back to the van we run into an old friend of Dennis', who promptly buys us all a Ting before heading on his way.
Two things that stand out already from this trip - everyone on the island of 46,000 knows Dennis, and everyone is very friendly.
(As I write this, I could go for an ice cold Ting right now. Yummy.)
We wind our way out of the city and back onto the main road that circles the island. It's quite a sight with the blue Caribbean Sea on one side of us and the lush rain forest climbing the volcano on the other. Dennis points out to us as we trundle along that the island nation has virtually no crime and is very pious. This is reflected by the lone small jail and numerous places of worship that he points out to us on our journey.
Next stop is set of trees just off the road that look, from a distance, to be covered in cotton. As we get closer, we see that the branches are filled with hundreds of white birds. It's quite a sight to behold.
(Note to self: scan those pictures in!)
Further on, we turn off the main road and head inland towards the rain forest, passing some petroglyphs left by the original residents of the islands, the Carib Indians. The road winds its way past an abandoned sugar cane plantation and up a hill to Romney Manor, and estate house that is the home of the Caribelle Batik artisans centre. Queue first batch of souvenir purchases!
Back in the van and we're off to Brimstone Hill Fortress, known as the Gibraltar of the West Indies. It's a huge fortress built on top of an 800 foot high lava upshoot. The views are tremendous in all directions. Both Lisa and I felt an incredible sense of awe at the immenseness of the whole thing.
Ack, another page! More on the story in the next entry (hopefully!)