Watership down!

We woke up to a cloudy sky with some hints of morning sun behind the thinner spots in the sky. We got ready for golf nonetheless - as long as there was no water coming down from heaven, we would venture out to the golf course. On the way to the Regency, the clouds thickened and raindrops on the windshield became bigger and bigger. It was obvious that we couldn't play today. So we went for breakfast at Armando's instead.

Lobby at Grande - where we wait for the shuttle

We were the first guests there - not too many people would get up at 7:30 for breakfast when they are on vacation. We had the place all to ourselves and picked the most romantic table in the place - on a balcony at the edge of the cliff. Unfortunately winds picked up and we were getting damp on the balcony with all sides open. While we enjoyed our breakfast, we kept gazing up and hoping there would be a clear patch in the sky. No such luck. The rain clouds continued to roll in over the resort. The distant sea horizon has all but disappeared behind a grey curtain. As if to tease us, rain paused just before 10 - time to catch the shuttle back. We ventured out to the pro shop but the lady in the pro shop took one look and said she simply couldn't send anyone out before 12. We were as disappointed as Shervy but we knew the lady was right.

Since we just missed the shuttle, we decided to take a cab back to the Grande. We were picked up in a van and started out into the rain. Our driver is a grumpy man in his 50's. He used to be a policeman but quit the force 15 years ago and took up a new profession. We went down the mountain road outside the Regency and saw a large lineup of traffic into Castries. The driver started to complain about the traffic jam and asked if we would be interested to take the back roads. We agreed to venture out so he turned the van around and started to go up in the mountains.It was our closest encounter with the typical St Lucian neighborhood. Narrow roads meander through the lush mountain, barely enough to fit two cars. What amazed us was that there were cars parked on these narrow roads, cramping the passage even further. The houses are constructed right beside the road. If we reached out from the window of the van, we would touch them. Most houses are built on stilts and the space underneath became a multi-purpose opening, some to shelter a car, others for plants and even some for clothe lines! Some houses have a wall around it's foundation. Our driver told us he couldn't afford to put up a wall around his house and the heavy rain from Hurricane Tomas eroded his foundation. I suddenly understood where some of his grouchiness came from. While our daily grinds might be a weary day at work, a troublesome customer or even the sight of a new white hair, what plagues many people in a developing nation are worries at a much more existential level. Just by being born or living in a developed world, many of us automatically ascend Maslow's pyramid and how easily it is to take that for granted! Meanwhile the rain thickened and the small flow in the storm drains on the side road has become a little roaring river, gushing angrily downwards. I heard the first rumbling thunder ever in the tropics. By now Kenny and I are clutching hard at the handle bar beside our seats and gazing intently at the road ahead. I prayed that the van is well maintained - at this steep slope one would hinge a lot of reliance on a good brake system . The roads under us was shielded in a large sheet of shiny moving water and in my mind's eyes I could just see us being washed down into the deep, lush, vine-covered ravines. 15 minutes' of nerve-wrecking driving finally brought us to a section of the road that has been washed out by the rain and proved an impasse. We were only too glad that we had to turn round and go back to town. The prospect of traffic jam pales in annoyance compared to a ride on a Lucian mountain road in a rain storm. The road back was just as threatening, if not more so. I remember closing my eyes to shut out the terror.

It is hard to describe my relief when the van finally poked out into one of the side streets in Castries after what seems to be a black diamond slope. We asked the driver to stop at the bank so we could get some cash. Kenny didn't want to get any U.S. cash before our departure, as I adviced him to do. So he finds himself cash-poor on the island. It is almost ridiculous that Sandals has no banking machine. I think it is the only hotel we have been to that does not have an ABM or currency exchange services. There are two types of currency used on the island - U.S. dollars or E.C. dollars (East Caribbean), a currency used by of eight of the nine members of the Organization of Eastern Caribbean States. At the time of our visit, the exchange rate was 1 U.S to 2.67 E.C. The driver took us to a Scotiabank and let Kenny off the van. We couldn't find any parking spot so we just circled the block. I looked at the crowd of local people hiding under the eaves of the shops in Castries and wondered if they would frown at the famous Scotiabank jingle: you are richer than you think. The town is very crowded - obviously many people were trying to do last-minute shopping before Christmas and were caught by the heavy rain. The grey sky and unrelenting rain somehow dimmed the brightness of the pre-holiday capital.

We only had to circle the block once and when we returned to Scotiabank, Kenny was out already. The driver quickly reminded us to place the dripping umbrella carefully on his rubber mat in order not to soil the seats. We felt more like kindergarten kids than customers, being told what to do and not to do. Soon the root of the driver's frustration emerged - he has had some very critical customers, tourists who would nickpit on the cleanliness of the van, tourists who would put their dirty shoes against the back of the fabric seat, or one lady who took off her sandals and tried to smash a mosquito on his window. We quickly get the idea that tourists are a misbehaving bunch in this driver's mind and we are guilty until proven innocent. Sigh. Thankfully the ride was only 45 minutes long and we already missed our shuttle badly - the drivers of the shuttles are always cheerful and genuinely so. I guess for some, the cup will always be half empty. I love that saying Kenny likes to repeat: the difference between an adventure and an ordeal is attitude. But then, maybe it would be easier to have a good attitude when you don't have to worry about the foundation of your house being washed away by rain and not have the money to fix it.

We had a quick lunch at Bayside. The hot chicken soup was wonderful after a wet morning. But what we relished more was the kind smiles of the staff at the Grande. Since it was Christmas Eve, there was a large turkey being carved and served. Kenny swore it was the most tender turkey he has ever had in his life and he managed to eat 3 servings! To top it off, he also found some chocolate chip cookies that he claimed were the best he had in his life (they were so moist that they fell apart in your hands). I secretly wondered how he would burn off the extra calories since we didn't golf that morning.

That afternoon we visited the Soon Come Back desk to see what we could arrange for our returning visit in December 2011. We were greeted by a nice young man by the name of Sheriq. He has the patience of a saint as we asked for all sorts of details about various room types. He also took us on a tour to see the different rooms again. We discovered new areas of the resort that we had never set foot in before - quiet pools and gardens where few frequent, little paths winding their way through the rondoval huts to the beach, even shortcuts to the building we were staying in. In many ways, the design of the Grande reminds me of the intricate gardens of Eastern China, like the ones found in the city of Su Zhou. You can never predict what is beyond the next doorway, or what you would see if you peek around a weeping willow.

Beach at Regency

Towards the evening rain stopped and sunlight poked through thick clouds. We seized the opportunity to have our dip in the sea before dinner. The water is cooler than usual, from the day's rain, but all the more refreshing. The waves were stronger, probably as strong as it gets on the beach there. More people ventured into the sea and tries to ride the waves. The people sitting in the floating discs were being tossed around by the waves. We swam out quickly beyond the place where the waves break. This was the perfect spot to be. We could see waves rolling in - horizontal gold line moving closer from the horizon. The peak of the waves lifted us high up gently, where we could gaze down at huts on the beach. We watched in amusement as the waves crashed onto the beach and caught people unexpected - their cots were underwater for a second and their sandals displaced to unknown locations. One lady thought the wave took her wedding rings. After much panic, the ring was recovered - sitting safely in her pouch.

That night we returned to Mario's. It was, by far, one of the most amazing restaurants we have experienced in all our dining adventures. And yet again, we were swept away by the explosion of flavors the dishes present. We know now the first great dining experience at Mario's was not a fluke. Marios, indeed, was a gem.