Where it all began

3rd November 2024

I first landed at Grantley Adams International on St Valentine’s Day 2002. Nicola’s parents had very generously invited me over during their first long stint here post-retirement. An ice-cold Banks was cracked in the airport car park with the palms swaying in the warm tropical breeze. This might be all right, I thought to myself. Over the island we went to the wild Atlantic coast and a magical place which was to win a very special place in our hearts – Cattlewash beach. Here it is at dusk this evening:

And here’s the Round Rock – and look, a local beachcomber in the gloaming…

22 years ago we stayed (as we did for many years afterwards) in a very modest beach house rented from friends. Two days after my arrival Nicola and I went for a moonlit stroll along the shore when out of nowhere I developed a severe muscle weakness in my right leg. Falling on one knee in the sand I popped the question. Totally impromptu. No ring, no plan, nuffink. Needless to say the response was instantaneous and I was frogmarched first thing next morning to Diamonds International in Bridgetown to set matters right and apply a veneer of respectability to the situation.

Fast forward more than two decades: tomorrow we begin our last week here for the time being. We have mostly managed to keep this last weekend free of work, making another visit early yesterday morning to Brighton Farmers’ Market (where one of the stallholders turned out to be married to our lawyer!) and spending a glorious afternoon today having a scrumptious lunch, swim and snorkel at Pier One on the west coast. Naturally, however, we squeezed in a few tasks, some less successful than others. Here’s the result of our attempt to hammer a picture hook in Plantation View. Clearly the walls there are rock hard concrete, not soft coral stone:

A busy few days lie ahead, excitingly interrupted by a major sporting event on Wednesday. Stay tuned for news of that soon. Toodle pip for now!