Dispatch from the Tropics, Part I

I apologize in advance for the plethora of mistakes that will undoubtedly appear in this post. For some reason, blogging on an iPad is beyond me.

I type from the porch of my little hillside retreat on Virgin Gorda BVI overlooking the North Sound.  In my view not four miles away is Richard Whatshisname from Virgin Atlantic's Island called Nekkar. The place I inhabit until July 1 is a resort firmly fixed in The Kitten's mind from her post college days teaching sailing to teenagers.  It is called The Bitter End Yacht Club, and for the sailing set, this is where it's at.  There is a constant breeze blowing here, but even a breeze doesn't cool real hot, and away from the shade of my porch it is really hot. I woke a bit ago from a well-earned nap and decided to check in with you folks. I parted with sixty sheckels to purchase some international roaming time and so am making use of the surprisingly stron cellular signal here.  The Kitten has alighted with the oldest Kitten for some snorkeling, which came in second place to the nap.

This is a lovely place, with everything one could ask for. The food is wonderful the scenery is sublime, the staff is friendly, and the weather is perfect.  But I wouldn't be me if I couln't find a few nits to pick would I?


First, there is no air conditioning.  I have listened to the Kitten drone on about how there is no need for a/c down here, and she is mostly right. For instance, it is the heat of the day right now, and I am quite comfortable on the porch.  However, i am wearing next to nothing.  I awoke last night drenched with sweatlying in a pool of my own making.  When I glanced up, I could see that the ceiling fan was not moving.  That's all it took.  I simply like the world better when I can duck into a 72 degree oasis.