Pass the Tanning Butter
(And Watch Out for That Dump Truck!!)

By Rick Brown

Friday, May 12, 2006 6:03 a.m. Cleveland Hopkins Airport

Ordinarily I would call this daybreak. But since I’ve been awake since 3:30 a.m. it’s not the same feeling. Driving up to drop the dog off at my brother and sister in law’s last night was the usual 2-hour tedium that is the drive from Columbus to Cleveland. But hey ... we’re going to an island I cannot even remember the name of! And that’s a good thing.

Usually there’s background music in an airport. Not today. Herman’s Hermit’s “Something Good” ... a song written by the great Carol King (I remember everything vividly ... at least before 1977!) is swirling in my head ... heard it in the car on the way here. A few years ago I saw a more than reasonable facsimile of the Hermits ... with Peter Noone (the original singer ( ... and I really pissed him off by getting the band’s lineup wrong in my Naked Sunfish review.) Infighting with his old drummer ... some such thing. It could be a worse song chiming away in my fatigued brain ... like “Sugar, Sugar”. Still ... I wish Yvonne would get here with a cup of hot joe and a fatty muffin to take the edge off ... both sleep wise and ... ”somethin’ tells me I’m into somethin’ good ... oh yeah ... somethin’ tells me I’m into somethin’..”

Friday, May 12, 2006 10:07 a.m. Charlotte International Airport

Layovers are a drag. Yvonne and I ate breakfast at a place called Tequilepia ... a kind of Mexican Bar/Restaurant. As soon as we sat down the waitress asked us if we wanted coffee with Kaluha or a bloody Mary ... at 10 in the morning. I guess that’s a part of airport culture. And we are in the Land of NASCAR. There are stock cars on display in various areas of the terminal. And I was thrown back into the reality of how many people smoke. There are so many designated areas I don’t know why they bothered. Big tobacco is indeed a not so strange bedfellow of NASCAR. Ironically, breakfast was the best food I’ve ever eaten at an airport ... bar none.

Sitting here in the white rocking chairs provided for the weary traveler (I’ve seen these in Philly’s terminal as well ... it’s a good idea really.) I witness firsthand what seems to be an inordinate number of golf carts zipping by. Usually these things appear to travel at the speed of ... uh ... mud. Not here. Not in the Land Of Left Turns. These carts are speeding all over the place! At least they aren’t going in circles.

Only another hour to kill. Maybe I’ll wander into a newsstand and glance at the cheesy magazine headlines. “Brittney Has Had Enough!!” “Jenny McCarthy Like You’ve Never Seen her Before!” And gee ... the picture screams YET ANOTHER BOOB JOB!!! Hmm ... and even though Britney has had enough she is like ... oh so like prego AGAIN!!” Apparently she decided she’d had enough right after she’d had some and before submission deadline.

Friday, May 12, 2006 4:48 p.m. Provindenciales, Sibonne Hotel, Turks and Caicos

Already I feel ... as usual ... like the wealthy white man and his blonde wife from America. It’s difficult not to ... at least for a liberal. I’m reserving judgment on this place. First impressions ... it’s a desert island ... as in “Horse With No Name” ... as in the terrain is mostly desert. (And we were worried about rain!) And the locals ... who refer to themselves as belongers ... wear long pants even though it’s 95 degrees. Not sure what to think of the place so far. But the Atlantic never lets me down. It’s majestic and calming ... especially after a couple drinks at Junior’s bar. The beach is nice. I wouldn’t say one of the top ten best in the world (according to uppity travel magazine Conde Naste) but nice none the same. The beach is very long. But is long always better? Depends who you ask I suppose. Besides ... I’m reserving judgment until after I witness firsthand the 17,000 beaches I have yet to walk on. One of the first things we noticed at the beach was a couple empty chaise lounges draped with “2003 National Champions - OSU Buckeyes” towels. Is there no escape?

There are very few finer things in this lifetime than sitting by the shoreline having a drink with a woman you love. Trouble is ... the fact that I’ve been up since 3:30 this morning makes the booze that much stronger in its effect. Still ... this is VACATION in the Caribbean and I will rise to the occasion!!! On to a place called Hemingway’s to make Papa proud!!!

Saturday, May 13, 2006 p.m. Sibonne Hotel T.C.I. (Turks and Caicos Islands)

Okay ... while Hemingway’s is nice ... low standing dark wooden bar and teak restaurant tables ... anyone who has ever been to Key West and visited Pspa’s old haunts knows this is no place Earnest would have hung out in. Both Sloppy Joe’s and Captain Tony’s (originally Sloppy Joe’s – Hemmingway’s favorite haunt.) ... are now ... and were then ... beer joints. With beers costing 5 bucks a pop at Hemingway’s ... and everywhere else we’ve been so far ... the author would have run out of moola before he could have cashed in on “The Old Man and the Sea”. In its defense ... everything is expensive here. Like most island cultures that depend on tourism (the big conglomerates have “corporatized” the banana industry, farming, et al long ago in most of the Caribbean) food is costly. Almost everything short of seafood needs to be imported raising prices considerably. The same is true with Hawaii.

So most of late afternoon yesterday was taken up with wandering the beach ... which is the longest I’ve ever seen ... stopping periodically for a drinkie pooh. Then we walked to a wine store which we were told was “right over there” yet ended up being half a mile away. Now I don’t usually mind a mile walk ... even when I’m sweating bullets. But being the sun-crazed moron I had become by this time of the day, I wore my “hanging around the hot tub” vinyl Birkenstocks. The blisters on both big toes make for an addition to the adventure ... albeit slightly painful one. Oh yeah ... when we arrived at said wine store it was closed ... missed it by 7 minutes.

Since we made reservations late for this trip we had to agree to change rooms here at Sibonne ... twice. But since we’ve had a wonderful breakfast (omelets for 6 dollars ... with a 75 cent charge for any item like cheese ... peppers ... mushrooms ... hey ... doesn’t that mean they started out as uh ... scrambled eggs?) and spent a couple hours at the beach, I’m just chillin’.

And don’t go thinking I’m going to be updating this travel piece every 4 hours like I’ve been. Once we get settled in to our permanent room ... booked some snorkeling ... made other adventure plans ... and visited the wine store ... you won’t be hearing from me so often.

Sunday, May 14, 206 5:43 p.m. Sibonne Hotel, T.C.I.

Ahh ... the Three Stooges are on T.V. There is no better way to begin the day!!

I’d probably get to write more this evening if it hadn’t taken me 25 minutes to get through the spell check. We’re finally in our “permanent” room and it is quite lovely. The other two were functional for sure ... but this one is nice. And once the guy in the park next door decides to drive his incredibly LOUD boom car back home it will be even more pleasant.

We did a little shopping in the afternoon Saturday and I even found myself a cool shirt. I buy ... on average ... about 3 shirts ... a pair of jeans ... and 7 pairs of shorts annually. So this was pretty exciting. On the way back from the “mall” (I’ll get in to all the development and my take on the politics involved later on.) we stopped in at an Irish Pub. It was nice ... and about as “Irish” as most “Irish” Pubs in America ... meaning not very Irish at all. The place is called Danny Buoys (cute huh?) and seemed to be a local hang out. What’s intriguing is that there is a lot of development here ... gated communities being built ... and the construction workers are all Mexican ... or seem to be. So Yvonne and I got out of the heat (it’s averaging 90 degrees daily since we arrived) and had a Heineken at the “Irish Pub”. I asked the barmaid if she was from Australia because of her accent. “I’m from Latvia” was her response. Go figure. Ferdinand Magellan I ain’t. Although I’m as much him as this establishment is Irish.

Yvonne and I spent a few more hours on the beach beginning this morning. Had dinner at the restaurant here called Bay Bistro and it was excellent. Today was Mother’s Day so the place was crawling with mothers and their kids ... a few husbands as well. The food is very good so far and since it is so expensive that’s a good thing. But everything is pricey here. We took a cab to the I.G.A. where we quickly learned there are no Sunday liquor sales here. (The place is typically British ... more so even ... bringing pornography in is a crime. No nudity ... no topless sunbathing ... no thongs. Actually this is more severe than typically British.) It was an expensive excursion for coffee creamer, h2o, a candle, corkscrew (with nothing to screw) chocolate ... but the driver did take us to 7/11 ... even though there was no 7/11 sign to be seen anywhere ... but they sold beer ... 18 dollars a six pack beer!! Added to the 26-dollar cab fare ... well ... let’s just say I’m drinking one of those beers right now and this is the BEST goddamned beer I have ever had in my entire life!!!

Culture shock can be costly. Sometimes the best way to learn something is the hard way.

Monday, May 15, 2006 1:19 p.m. Sibonne Hotel, T.C.I.

“Mmmm ... vacation sex is the best.” Homer Simpson

It’s another day ... although our meal at Hemmingway’s was kind of expensively lame last evening. (You do not offer a “special” of steamed clams and then bring a bowl including 5 unopened ones to the table. What is this? Long John Silver’s by the Bay?) Our delightful new room with the cathedral ceiling smoothed the frustration over. As an added treat there is a king sized bed with a wall mirror beside it. I love having a mirror you can see yourselves in while you’re in bed. That way you can see yourself ... uh ... in the morning and check out how extensive your bed hair is! And of course the added spice it brings to reveling in marital bliss.

Clouds obscure the sun today and both Yvonne and I probably needed to stay out of its’ rays anyway. So we went shopping at the new development’s “malls” ... strip shopping centers with shops featuring loud shirts ... sandals ... souvenirs ... bottle openers ... you know the places. Found myself a lime green soccer shirt. I love soccer shirts. I don’t care much for soccer ... but the shirts are cool. And the irony of having a bum knee that I owe to high school gym class soccer ... well ... I crack myself up thinking about it sometimes.

Despite the clouds it’s probably 94 degrees with a wind chill of 91 1/2. So we purchased three day passes for the Gecko Shuttle Bus. Now I can get a glimpse of ALL the gated bourgeois resorts! Apparently it stops ... for 7 seconds at a time ... at all of them. Our hotel ... the Sibonne ... is the only one on Grace Bay that’s not gated. And after conversing with Junior the bartender last evening concerning investment and development here ... I’m proud that we’re staying at Sibonne. (I’ll get to the tax shelter land investment issue later on.)

As soon as Yvonne is cleaned up we’re going to catch the Gecko and shop and eat down at a place called Turtle Cove. The name shouts “conch fritters, yachts and refrigerator magnets” doesn’t it? I mean ... if I can’t afford a 1.3 million dollar condo at “Seven Stars” then I have to get a magnet don’t I?

We’ve made plans to go snorkeling at a place called French Cay tomorrow. And we get to visit a state park that’s crawling with iguanas ... literally!!!

Oh yeah ... I did see some construction workers today that were locals ... or “belongers” as they refer to themselves ... quite appropriately I might add. That salved my liberal outrage a bit. Leetle beet.

Here’s something I found in the hotel literature that’s hilarious ... especially after having lunch at the hotel restaurant on Mother’s Day Sunday:

CHILDREN
We love children. They are most welcome at Sibonne. However, no adult or child can be allowed to disturb any of our other guests with inconsiderate behavior. Children can have fun but at the same time allowances have to be made for the guests that request quiet times during their stay. This usually occurs at dinner and in the late afternoon. We therefore recommend that children dine early in the evening and take a nap in the late afternoon.

Amen to that.

Monday, May 15, 2006 8:56 p.m. Sibonne Hotel T.C.I.

Suffice it to say that the “shuttle bus” known as “The Gecko” should be renamed “The Snail” ... or perhaps “The Escargot” or more aptly ... ”The Escar-slow”. More later. The fun is finally beginning to overshadow the diary. YAY!!!

Tuesday, May 16, 2006 3:37 p.m. Sibonne Hotel T.C.I.

The Gecko is a good deal ... at least on the surface. Yvonne and I bought a three-day pass for 22 bucks each. Problem is ... I saw the Gecko more often before purchasing the passes than I do now. And when it does pick you up it drives you to every stop on the island. So going to Turtle Cove yesterday took an hour and 10 minutes. It’s like 2 ... maybe 2 1/2 miles away. If it weren’t so frikkin’ hot you could walk. But it IS that frikkin’ hot. And anyone who has ever been close to the Equator learns quickly that half an hour ... that’s how often the Gecko is supposed to run ... could end up being anywhere from an hour to 3 hours. Yesterday’s excursion should have been riding the Turtle to Gecko Cove ... sigh.

But that was yesterday and this is Tuesday. We had a glorious sailing trip for more than half the day on a large catamaran. We went to a national park on a cay inhabited only by 3000 or so iguanas ... and got a tour from a soft spoken young man named Kilroy (no kiddin’) ... dogs and cats are not allowed on this tiny island because they have eradicated the iguanas elsewhere. Then our guide Winston took us snorkeling for an hour or so ... then had lunch anchored by a tiny cay and then swam and hunted sea shells as long as we wished!! The breeze blew in our faces as we floated carelessly in the turquoise waters just off the white sandy shores. It was truly grand and the other tourists aboard ship were great. We met a couple guys from Montreal ... people from all over the States and a guy from Britain. Winston ... our tour guide ... is from Martinique and did a wonderful job entertaining us and showing us the best of the T.C.I. or what is left of it before the developers get their greedy hands on the property. This awesome day made our adventure so far.
The snorkeling was good ... albeit choppy since we were in the Atlantic. And there was no “Underwater Jesus” like off Key Largo. I visited there with my buddy Dan last September. (See Travel in issue number 30 http://www.nakedsunfish.com/SunFish_030/travel/Travel.htm ) But I WAS moved today by “Underwater Holy Ghost”! He/she/it ... nearly drowned me actually! Sucking salt water through a snorkel while you are trying to empty the salt water out of your snorkel mask can truly be a religious experience! Perhaps I should have communed on the run punch BEFORE going in the water. At least I didn’t get sea sick like I did last time I snorkeled. And walking the deserted beach of an isolated cay cleanses the soul ... whether “Underwater Holy Ghost” moves you or not. Today we saw what is left of this paradise. Sadly ... the blueprints are already drawn up for the condos.

Wednesday, May 17, 2006 6:38 p.m. Siboonne Hotel T.C.I.

Last night we had a delightful dinner at our hotel’s restaurant called Bay Bistro. We’ve been dining here for breakfast and lunch mostly and without a doubt it’s the finest establishment we’ve eaten at so far. Hemmingway’s was more than disappointing. I’m sure Earnest would agree ... they don’t even serve wild boar!!

The snorkeling excursion was definitely the highlight of the vacation so far. We hung around the beach for the most part today ... which is fine. But it’s like going to the sun’s surface for holiday. Your feet burn (at least the blisters are healed) and Yvonne and I literally dove into the Atlantic every five minutes or so. I had these grand delusions of reading a book and catching up on my New Yorkers ... I’m about 4 months behind ... which is still better than my Rolling Stone record. But any more I couldn’t give a rat’s ass who Rolling Stone is writing about ... at least musically. Unlike my youth I get bored lying on the beach after a while ... despite how beautiful the scene may be. And my head has at least two bumps on it from bashing my noggin on the thatched beach umbrellas.

So ... after a relaxing lunch at Bay Bistro and a quick dip in the pool what did we do? We once again ... on our final day of the three day pass ... embraced the Gecko and rode it up to the lovely strip mall known as Port O’ Call. This time the bus was on time! Amazing? Or coincidence? And the driver didn’t have the radio turned to the live debate in parliament where politicians bash the developers. (Hey ... no argument here.) And what did we buy? Snorkeling masks!!! So tomorrow will be a fun filled day of snorkeling off the beach!! And now that I have my own snorkeling equipment ... sans flippers ... which I only effectively use to flap Yvonne in the head with anyway ... I can finally see what’s at the bottom of the Olentangy River in Columbus, Ohio ... or not.

Tonight we are having dinner at the most gourmet of all restaurants on Grace Bay. Why not? We already have to sell the house to pay for the trip ... might as well enjoy the last couple nights.

Friday, May 19, 2006 10:58 a.m. Sibonne Hotel T.C.I.

In true Caribbean form ... a little over an hour before check out ... there is no water in our room. We may end up showering outside by the pool.

Wednesday night we splurged and went to Grace’s Cottage ... billed as the most exclusive restaurant on the island. It was quite elegant. The food was very good. But I’m spoiled by good eateries in Columbus ... and I’ve been a few places. So when a bottle of Pellegrino costs 10 dollars ... wine begins at 50 bucks a bottle ... and entrees run between 30 and 45 dollars ... I am sorry. I need the meal to be the best frikkin’ dinner I’ve had in at least a year. It was not. Good – yes. Great – no. And the bill came to more than I paid for the first two cars I owned. Granted I got one for 5 bucks and mowed the guy’s grass while he was on vacation ... but still.

And when the cabbie picked us up his van had two other couples in it. Not that I mind this sort of thing. But they were making out ... and not doing a very good job of it if I might comment. Especially the couple sitting directly in front of us. They were both occasionally saying things in French while smacking and smooching and sucking neck. What a couple amateurs! Holly Leech and I did better in the park when we were 13 and had no idea what we were doing! Did these two men hire hookers and ask them to make out like it was their very first time? “I want a classy broad who can convince me we’re both 13 and making out for the very first time in our lives!!” Uh ... how much would that cost?

When Yvonne and I got out at the Sibonne (thankfully it was a short drive) I turned and faced both couples and blew them kisses like host Jim Lange did at the end of “The Dating Game”. Mmmmmwwww- aaaah!!!! MmmmmWaaaaaaah!!! I couldn’t tell their reactions ... but the cab driver was doing his best trying not to bust his gut. Ooo La La!!!!

Friday, May 19, 2006 11:25 a.m. Sibonne Hotel, T.C.I.

Yvonne got off the phone with the front desk a little while ago. Seems the water company is “fixing a pipe” and there is no water on the entire island ... at least that’s what they said. In a way it’s refreshing to know that while we Americans are devouring a culture at least we’re reminded by an occasional inconvenience that this is indeed a third world country. It does not matter how many million-dollar condos we build. Showering the salt water off by the pool was ... uh ... refreshing ... to say the least. And it’s times like these when I am reminded what a great woman I am married to. Most guys’ wives would be down in the lobby reading Patsy (the manager) the riot act. But Yvonne goes with the flow.
I do feel just a tiny bit bad for those people arriving recently. It rained for a long time late yesterday afternoon ... it’s cloudy now ... and there is no running water. Ah paradise. I am truly glad right now that we have stayed at this wonderful, funky little hotel with the best restaurant around. If we had paid $400 a night ... and the water was off ... I might be cursing out a hotel manager right now myself.

Friday. May 19, 2006 1:37 p.m. Providenciales Airport

We’ve got a lot of time to kill. Check in and security were very quick. There aren’t many people here. The drive in was a hoot. Our cab driver had on religious music. I’d never heard the old hymn “Holy, Holy, Holy” done in reggae style before. I was happy it was on. The cabbie drove like a fucking maniac. So with a couple hours to wait I guess we’ll drink some local beer ... Turk’s Head. Since pornography is a crime here I’ll refrain from commenting on the beer label. I only wish the air conditioner was more efficient. I guess the fact that neither of us took a “real shower” this morning is moot now. And it’s too bad ... the “good baby” just got on a plane ... the “screamer” did not. I wonder if there are any “amateur make out” hookers around to help pass the time.

Sunday, May 21, 2006 3:17 p.m. Columbus, Ohio

The flight home was uneventful. We did have to wait in a long line at immigration and shorter one at customs. Consequently we made the gate with merely minutes to spare. Yvonne bought some potato chips for us since we would be missing dinner ... at lest until about 9 p.m. back in Cleveland. So we had a delicious snack of Lay’s and chardonnay ... mmm ... mmm!! Flying sure isn’t what it used to be.

And that goes double for baggage claim. Just ONCE I’d like my bag to come out first! Second! Third even. For a moment Yvonne and I thought they had lost our check in bag. But she found it. The suitcase looked a lot different with all the “T.S.A. duct tape” wrapped around it. The Transportation Security Administration baggage handlers had gone through our bag ... a “random search” (of course) ... found nothing (naturally) ... and promptly broke the zipper. So everything was thrown back in the bag and taped together like giant kielbasa stuffed by a shit faced sausage maker!

The vacation served its purpose in that Yvonne and I connected ... relaxed ... and had some exotic experiences. But after talking with Junior (the hotel bartender) and especially Winston (our snorkeling guide) I was disheartened with what appears to be the future of the Turks and Caicos ... Providenciales in particular. Once the seven story condo/resorts are complete ... especially in the high season ... I don’t care if the beach IS 9 miles long. It’s going to be crawling with tourists. Rich ... white ... tourists for the most part. And if the architecture I witnessed is any indication ... the place is going to look more like West Palm Beach than a third world country in the Caribbean. According to Junior and Winton ... and I have no reason to doubt them ... the government takes a lot of money “under the table”. At 3 million a condo I can see the temptation. And unbeknownst to us before we came, the T.C.I. is a tax shelter. The only taxes are on hotel food and alcohol ... .hence the 18 dollar six pack of beer. With no capital gains taxes people ... especially Americans ... are investing in outrageously expensive real estate in hopes of cashing in a few years down the road. And the situation doesn’t serve the belongers well in any way. Even Junior and Winston are from Jamaica and Martinique respectively.

It’s said Christopher Columbus anchored in the island chain on his first voyage in 1492. Soon the islands were taken over by the Spaniards who brought African slaves over to raise cotton. The belongers are direct descendants of these slaves. And of course there were waves of French and British as well. The T.C.I. is still a member of the British Commonwealth. Winston told me that what little culture there is (the population of belongers is only about 14,000) will vanish. Of course many travelers don’t care about this. Many people want their adventures to be safe ... warm and fuzzy ... as predictable as a day at Epcot. And to be honest the place is safe ... especially if you never leave the confines of your all-inclusive resort. For people like this it doesn’t matter. Belongers will wait their tables, make their beds, and serve them rum punch and have no identity beyond service help. Consequently ... beginning with old Chris Columbus forward to the present ... the rape and pillaging continue. And I do not mean that metaphorically.

So neither can I recommend this destination nor will I return. I have no regrets. We had a wonderful, relaxing time. But this thought nags me: Will there someday ... in the near future ... be a NASCAR race called “The Providenciales 500”? Odds look pretty good.