It takes a long time to grow an old friend

"The best things in life come in threes, like friends, dreams, and memories." Mencius

To see old friends together is to witness the most fortunate blessing. To observe people interwoven over a lifetime is like a blue diamond: a rare find, a priceless treasure and something to be safeguarded. It always makes me wonder about when you first meet someone. Do you look into their eyes, shake hands and ever give a thought to speculating if you will come know each and every vein in that hand over the next forty years? Some people like your family or childhood compadres, you know, have a pretty good shot at traveling through life's journey with you. As the years roll by its easy to start to muse who will be there at the end? But these are deep thoughts for such a bright day, best I focus on this warm and balmy breeze and the long awaited arrival of dear friends.

"The air soft as that of Seville in April, and so fragrant that it was delicious to breathe it." Christopher Columbus

Riding into town on the "jolley trolley" old friends arrive with a new bottle. Now that's one hell of an entrance!

"Each friend represents a world in us, a world possibly not born until they arrive, and it is only by this meeting that a new world is born." Anais Nin

One fish, two fish, bait fish. Mr. Billy did not waste any time to throw a line in the water and hook the kids into a new sport. Rumor has it that he can catch a fish when he's not even there!

"Good things come to those who bait." Author Unknown

With Anne in town the energy elevates in direct proportion to the laughter levels. The golf carts get pushed aside in favor of pedal power. On a one road Island I can still get lost.

"Life is like riding a bicycle. To keep your balance you must keep moving" Albert Einstein

Each passing day continues to be dreamlike here in the Abacos. Tree climbing, sand ball fights, snorkelling and wandering back to favorite restaurants. Great food, great company, great fun. Life is sweet. I am starting to get an inkling that maybe creating these memories is planting a seed and with a little luck we can cultivate the kids into becoming our old friends?

"Always be nice to your children because they are the ones who will choose your rest home." Phyllis Diller

"Hold on to the center and make up your mind to rejoice in this paradise called life." Lao Tzu

Utopiaville

As another utopian day dawns, my soul is stuffed full with happiness. If I don't include dragging the kids down to the restaurant to get internet connection for the dreaded stint of home school. Between you and me, I'm secretly starting to enjoy the time I get to spend seeing the kids have those light bulb moments. But to achieve those cerebral flashes I spend a lot of time stubbing my toe in the dark while stumbling around looking for the darn flashlight. A traveller friend of mine says that her daughter swears at her when she's really frustrated with the whole nomadic, learning online, mom/teacher gig. I think that as long as they can spell each four letter word properly its fair game for the curriculum. Anyway it may come in as handy vocab if they turn into tortured singer/song writer types. Although my music lessons already are torturous, perhaps thats because the pinnacle of my musical career was propping up a piano singing in a traditional pub, knees up.

"Who dares to teach must never cease to learn." John Cotton Dana

I am definitely ski jumping off some sort of learning curve, I have high hopes that fifth grade comprehension will finally cure me of my haphazard approach to grammar!As our first week of education in a hotel dining room winds to a close I have a few more observations to make.

Teaching upon plastic table clothes with Bahamian kitchen staff smiling and laughing their good natured way through each subject with us, certainly has its merits. The Abaco Inn staff have been super encouraging of this crazy scheme. I am starting to believe I just may make it through the semester without mincing up the family and hiding the evidence in conch fritters.

The kids are incredibly patient and tolerant, they want to learn. Its all a matter of drawing their motivation out of them. They are the sponge and I just need to learn to pour water onto them rather than my caustic brand of soda. In my particular school of hard boiled eggs, scanning a menu is considered "silent sustained reading". On an island that imports almost everything on the menu, you can imagine how much an apple costs by the time it gets here? Ironically, Josh has been working on a 'healthy menu' as part of his program. Under the circumstances, I have to allow him to include fries and the ketchup counts as a vegetable right?

In our ever changing world of nomadic normalcy, routine has become my helper, I don't have to answer "because I said so" I just have to explain that it is "because we did that yesterday". Its a crocodilian style approach, where repeating something twice means its a pattern and on the third repetition I could rip your head off. I hereby promise that until my dying day I will be in reverent awe of anyone who teaches.

"Those who educate children well are more to be honored than parents, for these only gave life, those the art of living well." Aristotle

However, setting up school on the breakfast tables definitely has another upside for the kids. I have to smile through gritted teeth and be nice to them no matter what. I can't resort to threats or bribery in front of the other diners. Although in the lull between breakfast and lunch the other day I did offer a dollar per journal entry. Sneaky me they haven't collected yet. Previously I had offered Josh $10 per sausage if he would eat some meat. As he quickly shoveled down the first two I realized my folly and cruelly informed him it was neither Bahamian nor US dollars but Zimbabwean he would be paid in. After an impromptu lesson in currency exchange, the protein intake for the day was abruptly over.

Talking of currency. It is nice to see the Queen on a few of the Bahamian notes. Cash on an island with no ATM is a rare commodity. I may even resort to stealing from the kids' wallets. Tooth fairy be damned. Although I did notice the bank opened for 2 hours on a Tuesday. Judging by the wooden bars on the windows I don't think they will have much cash on hand. All you'd need to be a bank robber here is a small hacksaw.

"OK, boys; let's go make a withdrawal." John Dillinger.

Luckily I didn't need to rob a bank because Tuesday is Taco special night down at Captain Jacks and the margaritas are a twoferone deal. While waiting for the delivery of my second frozen strawberry margi, the kids decided to throw bread pieces over the side of the dock. To our delight a swarm of brown snappers herded under the shade of the pilings. The crystal clear water emphasized the growing numbers of fish and feeling the power of the Bahamian loaf the kids tried to coax the shoal out towards the end of the tiny pier. The four mothers who had arrived via stand up paddle boards were quietly refreshing their thirst with cold beers. It wasn't long before we were chatting about the type of boards they were so casually sitting on enjoying the confetti of crumbs, snow flaking around them. With the exuberance that only an eight year old can muster, Josh yelled "shark" and it was with such happiness he informed us it was probably a nurse shark and not to worry.

"The difference between chirping out of turn and a faux pas depends on what kind of a bar you're in." Wilson Mizner

"If everything comes your way, you are in the wrong lane."Author Unknown

The epitome of a dumb blonde adventure is an American Golf Cart with right hand drive, driving on the left. That leaves me sitting in the 'driving seat' with no steering wheel cruising around, still grinning like a loon.

In fact I've been smiling so much in the warm breeze I may need to start rubbing vaseline on my teeth, like a bride on her wedding day, to coax my lips back together.

"When I get real bored, I like to drivedown town and get a great parking spot, then sit in my car and count how many people ask me if I'm leaving." Steven Wright

Look at us, now we're a two car family! Guess we'll be the wacky racers. "He who has the fastest golf cart never has a bad lie" Mickey Mantle But whats the rush? The island is less than five miles long. I have no compunction to leave this paradise yet. I'm trapped in a happiness bubble, everything seems to be floating the right way here in Utopiaville.

An impromptu picnic down on Tahiti beach turned into a star fish, conch, sea anemone conference. Maybe I could turn this into a math learning opportunity. If five starfish suck the insides out of a sea biscuit, how many octopi would it take to fight me off the lobster?

"Live in the sunshine, swim the sea, drink the wild air." Ralph Waldo Emerson.

Talking of picnics and food, the cuisine here is wonderful. What makes it taste all the better is that its so safe on this Island of 260 people that I don't have to worry if I want to send the kids off to the Sugar Shack for a grilled cheese. It feels like a bygone era, the safety of a community from yesteryear. Not many cars, just bikes, golf carts and boats.

"Give a man a fish and feed him for a day. 

Give him a fishing lesson and 

he'll sit in a boat drinking beer every weekend." 

Alex Blackwell

Maybe I should send Greg for more beer? After all, it is five o'clock somewhere.

"There are some days when I think I'm going to die from an overdose of satisfaction. " Salvador Dali

Nirvanadise

"Conversation about the weather is the last refuge of the unimaginative" Oscar Wild

Ok, so I'm unimaginative, I start conversations about the weather. I'm English its what I do. Maybe 'Barometer Bob' in Marsh Harbor is also English as his website reports a temperature of 72 degrees today. I believe him. I think it may even be warmer. The light, South East, onshore, warm breeze has been a silken caress since I stepped out into the early morning. Even during the night while everyone was breathing softly, I kept padding quietly to all the different windows to spy on the full moon as it stealthily moved through the night sky. Its silvery cascade, glittered on the lagoon and glowed iridescent on the pastel hues of the sea cottages. I'm trapped in a conscious dream. Pinch me I must be in fantasyland or never never land or wonderland, this can't really be my reality can it?

"So come with me, where dreams are born, and time is never planned. Just think of happy things, and your heart will fly on wings, forever, in Never Never Land." Peter Pan

Yes - its all very "Peace, Love and Hopetown", and before you ask, no I haven't been overmedicating on hallucinogenic muscle relaxants. It really feels like a forgotten quadrant of Disney. I'm caretaking my own particular batten board sunshine yellow home with white trim. I can wake up, slide into a bikini, tie on a sarong, grab my Bahamian briefcase (cooler box) and I'm ready for another day running the golf cart rides around paradise with the family.

"A hundred years from now, it will not matter what kind of car I drove, what kind of house I lived in, how much money I had in the bank...but the world may be a better place because I made a difference in the life of a child." Forest Witcraft

Oh but wait, I'm forgetting something, the black cloud of homeschool. Ah ha, I hear you unsympathetically cry! Is that violin music or just me feeling sorry for myself? Well, it could actually be the sound of the viola scratching the neighbors awake, courtesy of Josh. Not sure if it's the instrument or my nagging that sounds the most discordant. Still, I'm hoping we'll manage a full concerto to accompany the slide show on our return home.

Talking of music to my ears, Greg met up with a kindred, stand up paddle surfer. Nothing makes him happier than chatting with a new friend and getting the inside scoop on the best surf spots and the line up. Although, me being able to focus the cursed camera, while he's riding the hero wave of the day, makes him pretty gratified.

Undoubtedly I get it wrong, sitting in the sun, burning my face off while shooting photos still doesn't make the ASA quite right (ASA = Andrea Stupid Andrea). He always makes me look like such a heroine, tuning up the colors of the very shot where my face quite plainly shows that I'm just about to eat it, on a wave I should never have attempted in the first place. At least I'm out there right? The 40 year old surf virgin.

"Surfing is such an amazing concept. You're taking on Nature with a little stick and saying, 'I'm gonna ride you!' And a lot of times Nature says, 'No you're not!' and crashes you to the bottom." Jolene Blalock

Not to worry, we turned our hand to canoes today and rowed the narrow channel over to Lubbers Quarters. So the photos of my slumped in an orange kayak are testament to the name being apt if nothing else. When we got out to explore the ivory shore, the kids insisted on wearing their life jackets in the mere couple of inches of water bathing the sweeping white sand bank. I guess they saw what happened to mother in the waves? Laughter and paddles, sunshine and sparkling sea water made today one of those life time moments you know your gonna pull out of the alzheimer induced fog and savor like a never ending gummy bear.

"How we spend our days is of course how we spend our lives. " Anne Dillard

A spot of lunch at 'On Da Beach' (Josh says it with the best rasta twang) was followed by a bit of wave snorkeling. The water was a bit chilly at first and visibility wasn't the best as the ocean had a lot of motion. But the kids had an incredible wave jumping session. As soon as Jasmin authorized the point and shoot waterproof camera into the water, Greg levitated around in the swell, occasionally spitting on the lens with a big grin.

We found a sea biscuit and a sand dollar at Tahiti beach. There were a few shells I had never seen before. Curses does that mean homeschool homework? The shelling is phenomenal in the crystal waters of the still lagoon. There is a distant drone of boats coursing over to Pelican Cay and small sailing craft drift ashore to join the spread of people wandering the shallow waters endlessly searching for treasures.

Riding in the golf cart we ventured the couple of miles to Hope town. It is the most schmaltzy, hokey, cutesy, adorable, twee place I ever had the pleasure to coo over. It was settled in 1785 by British loyalists, refugees of the American Revolution. There is a candycane striped lighthouse with no through traffic. The shops and houses are a jumbled collection of wooden structures painted pastel pinks and blues with white trim.

Its a fairy tale, scattered with locals and a few tourists. Newer residents with easels are trying to paint the essence of it all onto their canvases. Centered around the docks and moorings, the wooden shuttered windows overlook a quaint harbor scene.

As we wandered through on Sunday morning, a white robed clergy man ministered his sermon in the shade of the children's playground. Luckily Jasmin held me back from taking snaps like the psychotic tourist I have become. Riding shotgun in the golf cart, grinning like a loon, I still am not tired of greeting all the other travellers on the road. I feel a strong affiliation with such friendly people.

Yet being here in a land so connected to my mother England, of course I'm going to feel some bonds. Having lived in Africa for so long of course its natural I would feel nostalgic to seeing makeshift repairs and a truck door replaced with wood. At least there is a door. I have noticed there is a lone minivan taxi which is completely doorless. It seems to wind its way backward and forward along the narrow roads past my windows as the sun is setting. I'm hoping he is doubling up as the pizza delivery otherwise I really have to remember to close my curtains when I'm changing for dinner!

Lounging on the back stoop I watched the sun slip below the mangroves, signaling yet another day in paradise as over. The underside of the cotton candy clouds glowed peach. Wispy white tendrils higher in the sky were slower to change into their sunset tones. Time to crack open a Kalik beer. Kids watching a movie, hubby watching the back of his eyelids, a moment of solitude here in Nirvanadise. As the stillness of twilight descends, the silhouette of the palm fronds momentarily pause their gentle swaying. The distant birds wing homeward while the moon takes it lead in the nightly rhythm ahead. Fragments of music are drifting over from the bar with slivers of laughter and shards of conversations.

Time for another sundowner methinks.

"Clouds come floating into my life, no longer to carry rain or usher storm, but to add color to my sunset sky. " Rabindranath Tagore

Bahamamania

"I wish you a very good journey to an unknown you've never seen."

Pieter V Admiraal

No, we didn't fall off the earth just back in time…

Imagine a place where strangers wave at each other, where random greetings of hello turn into dinner plans. A traffic jam means waiting for the golf cart coming in the other direction to circumnavigate a pot hole in the road.

In a paranoid frenzy, upon arrival, I frantically tried to find the locks on the doors of the beach villa we now call home. There are none! But there is a safe with a key, not quite sure if the sticky tape is for extra security or holding the thing together?

The Abaco Inn is a rambling selection of tiny villas strung together by sandy paths which all lead to the centre of Island life - the bar. Every night there is a new cast of characters blown ashore for Goombay Mash and Kalik beers. The mix of accents is music to my own particular weirdo brogue. Its seems to be a blend of Southern style American with a smattering of Scottish and a dab of English west country thrown in for good measure. However, there was a moment when I overheard the workers repairing the concrete down on the wharf and I was confused which language they were using. No matter, a wave of the hand, a smile and all was well.

"Your first 10,000 photographs are your worst." Henri Cartier-Bresson

I quite simply love it here. Greg has taken more pictures than I ever knew he had in him. I think he's reminiscing about some swim wear catalogue shoot. Excuse my cellulite!

The kids waver between hating the home schooling (and that witch that keeps making them do it) and screams of ecstasy as they find another hermit crab or dive under another perfect blue wave.

The surf spot is viewed from the front stoop and the lagoon and mainland from the back. Our bungalow sits astride a narrow neck of land with water on either side. The Atlantic surf has been pounding the front shore and the gentle Bahamian breezes blow in through the back door. Our geographical location is no random fortunate accident, it took weeks of hubby dearest pouring over nautical maps and obsessing over wind direction and swell. I feel like I know the place so well already, its as if Google Earth just sucked me right through the apple mac window, and courtesy of Steve Jobs here I am. Now I'm relishing it all in 3D, it just adds to the pleasure.

"Jealousy is all the fun you think they had." Erica Jong.

Now before you start retching at the perfection and frantically clicking offline at the sheer enviability of it all, remember I'm English at heart. Of course I will have to mention a few negatives, with a nasally whine and a sunburnt face.

"For the execution of the voyage to the Indies, I did not make use of intelligence, mathematics or maps." Christopher Columbus.

For our voyage I simply followed the luggage which was herded along with the kids. Our raggle taggle group was led across the tarmac by Greg, my job was merely to bring up the rear. And of course, I have plenty of that to bring up. From a cold, bleak corner in Fort Lauderdale airport we were ushered towards a twin propellor plane which seemed a little too shonky for my liking. With only one other passenger we were able to choose our own seat, which I find is never a good sign. When some of the luggage was strapped into seats alongside us I took a deep breath and started chewing on the inside of my cheek. As the engines started up so did the nagging voices in my head. Why was this the only plane that would take surf boards? Why was it so empty? Why had the check in agent weighed me along with the bags? The props whirred and shook and thankfully rattled out the worrisome thoughts from my head. I turned my attention out of the window, I noticed the check-in agent was now parking his baggage truck and jumping out to direct the plane.

Then I saw it, sat in the middle of the double glazing, a cockroach. Frowning intently at the ramifications of my discovery, I frantically began sifting through my knowledge of pressurized cabins and cruising altitudes. Surreptitiously I tried out some of my EMT training, was it breathing? Was it poisoned? Was the plane infested or had the window depressurized since last time the plane landed (probably somewhere around 1945)? Would I get sucked out of the window at elevation? I was just convincing myself I could stop up the window with my beer gut and save the family when the kids piped up that they too had roaches in the window! Too late we were creaking along for take off. The noise was so deafening I couldn't hear what the lone air hostess was saying let alone the captain's anonymous voice, although I think the guy that carried my bag up the stairs had actually been the pilot. It was time to get casual and put myself over to the experience right?

"Close your eyes let your spirit start to soar, and you'll live as you've never lived before." Erich Fromm

Hopefully my spirit would ascend if my physical being plummeted into the Gulf Stream below. It seemed incredibly windy but what would I know? Were the wings supposed to move up and down like that? Peering past the roach, the straight line of the Fort Lauderdale coast diminished into the distance as we spiraled and shook over the deep blue of the waters below. I think I spotted the mail ship somewhere down under the clouds, bouncing around on the white caps. I inwardly smiled between pursed lips, grateful I was up here with the cockroach, not journeying down below with seasick kids and husband who would be blaming me for coming up with the idea to take the surfboards by boat if no one could fly us.

“Twenty years from now you will be more disappointed by the things you didn’t do than by the ones you did do. So throw off the bowlines, sail away from the safe harbor. Catch the trade winds in your sails. Explore. Dream. Discover.” Mark Twain

Trade winds my foot, this was a full blown cold front. Imagine my surprise at hearing Marsh Harbor was having one of the coldest days on record! This news did nothing to ease the desolation of the airport below. Either I or the roach had fogged up the window so it was hard to see if the runway was merely a pale concrete color or actual sand? The skinny forest of sparse tuffla trees was a puny first impression of tropical. Fighting the cross winds the wings tilted and dipped until we touched down. Skidding past a large, water logged section, we came to a noisy standstill on the other side of the wire mesh fence from a crowd of folks waiting to leave. Something seemed amiss! Why was I always arriving when everyone else was leaving en masse? But there was no time to ruminate now! I had to unfetter the luggage and descend the narrow staircase and catch up with my family who were already opening the door onto the one desk, customs corner of the tiny airport building. The baggage hall seemed even smaller as the washing machine, who had apparently flown in with us, was rushed through to the awaiting truck for delivery. Seemed someone had an emergency backlog of laundry on their hands. A couple of arrival cards later and we were spat out into the awaiting arms of a taxi driver. It seemed the amount of luggage we were wheeling around with was causing a lot of curiosity or was it those darn suspicious surf boards that were turning heads?

"Life is one big road with lots of signs. So when you riding through the ruts, don't complicate your mind. Flee from hate, mischief and jealousy. Don't bury your thoughts, put your vision to reality. Wake Up and Live!" Bob Marley

It was cold and windy and even with nothing to compare it to, I could definately attest that this was indeed the coldest day of the year. As we bumped along the potholes towards the big smoke of Marsh Harbor we learnt our minivan taxi driver Lenard was born and bred on the island. It seemed natural that his British-style brogue wound out past uneven teeth. I wondered about his heritage and where his ancestors' slave ship had originated from. He, however, was far more interested in the future and earning a crust for his 6 children, which made him more than happy to trundle around the narrow coral roads while we bought food and cellphone sim cards and the necessary alcohol. After two cell phone shops, a supermarket and a booze store we had clocked two hours of circuiting Marsh Harbor. To complete our triathlon of wacky vehicles, we were finally ready to head over to Aubrey's Ferry. I think Aubrey and his decedents have a pretty strong grip on the Island heritage as there is a disproportionate amount of signs advertising tradesmen and services with the Aubrey surname.

"Either you decide to stay in the shallow end of the pool or you go out in the ocean." Christopher Reeve

Greg stepped out of the taxi and the surfboards strapped on top seemed ready to take flight, maybe we could turn into Chitty Chitty Bang Bang? I could be Truly Scrumptious and with Jeremy and Jemima in the back we were all set for a Disney classic! The young man approaching us was yelling something but his words were blown out onto the white capped lagoon.

"NO MORE CHARTERS TODAY" ah maybe it was better not to hear? Owning a dolphin and whale watching business in Africa has taught me a thing or too about those words. To a customer they mean an inconvenient rearrangement of travel plans, to the proprietor it means the damn weather stole today's profits. When the guy who stands to lose money tells you its too rough to go, believe him.

Watching from the warmth of the buffeted taxi, I watched Greg and said boat driver have a quick confab. To my instant consternation they both waved the waiting porters to bring our herd of suitcases forward and Lenard started to wrestle the boards off the roof. It was time to face my demons in a locally made hull in 30 knots and 3ft wind waves. I consoled myself with the fact at least I could grip onto the surf boards as flotsam if we sank.

Life's pretty good, and why wouldn't it be? I'm a pirate, after all. " Johnny Depp

Schwinging and schwaying we rolled our way across the lagoon; the kids hung on for dear life and I hung onto the dear kids. Greg however, was lit up by a huge grin and chatted amiably with the captain. It was as if the salt hit his nostrils and roused his sense of adventure, grinning and carousing with his shipmate perhaps he was reconnecting with pirates past? More likely he was just glad it was nearly journey's end and he could finally get a moments peace away from the ball and chain?

"The foot feels the foot when it feels the ground." Buddha

Stepping onto the dock my feet were indescribably happy to feel solid ground, well creaky wood. Nicola, wrapped tight in a huge jacket, pulled the kids and I onto the wooden board walk and invited us to come sign the register in the warm office. I didn't even look back, although I did pass one guy from the hotel, shaking his head in disbelief at the amount of stuff we had hauled with us. From the inner sanctum of the warm office, with a strong cocktail warming me from the inside, I realized how cold it really was. Did I mention the wind chill factor? Continuing my theme of abandoning the bags and husband I followed Nicola over to the villa. Two bedrooms, kitchenette, bathroom and views, views, views. Oh and the air-con reversed into heating, wooo hoooo, let the good times roll.

“I’ll bet what motivated the British to colonize so much of the world is that they were just looking for a decent meal.” Martha Harrison.

The Bahamas is a cocktail of all my favorite nationalities, a familiar blend of American, English and African. The local brogue is like butter spread on the delicious Island bread. Talking of food, our first dinner here was fabulous, the Inn restaurant has a great chef, even if the waitress was wearing a ski jacket during our first meal! At least Josh's complaints that the mac and cheese was "too spicy" were drowned out by the draughts whistling in through the single pane, badly fitted windows. Sleeping aboard a plane that first night meant an early bedtime. Due to Greg's incessant need for 86 degree heat, he cranked up the heater to sweaty brow levels and we slept sweet dreams of tropical paradise while the wind howled outside.

The next day dawned marginally warmer, using dumb blonde, positive spin, the cold front meant the prospect hunkering down for day one of home schooling didn't seem like such a bad idea. Uncertain of which was the warmest clothing I had brought with, I just put on everything with long sleeves and added a sarong for a scarf on top. The kids of course in t-shirts and shorts were "not cold". Greg wore the grimace of a howler monkey lost within the arctic circle. To avert his mind from the chill and to give him legitimacy to not have to sit in the restaurant suffering the pain of homeschool, he pulled out the camera and popped off hundreds of big wave shots from the balcony.

"If there were no schools to take the children away from home part of the time, the insane asylums would be filled with mothers" Edgar Watson Howe

The beauty of this island is magnificent, it even pervades the cold front, homeschooling holding pattern we have spent the first couple of days in.

At least there is a husband day care centre if things get too difficult to manage!

As the weather promises to warm up I am trying to figure out what our plans are?

"This suspense is terrible. I hope it will last." Oscar Wilde