Anguilla, Anguilla, Anguilla: part the fifth

Tuesday -- Summer Solstice and our 8th anniversary

Eight years ago today, my husband and I married on the island of Antigua at sunset on the summer solstice, surrounded by our family and closest friends at the Long Bay Hotel, a small family-run inn on the eastern side of the island.  Now we're back in the Caribbean celebrating our anniversary.  I know it's a cliche to say that time passes by more quickly as one ages, but I can hardly tell where the years have gone. 

We rise early and breakfast on our balcony.  Or at least I do.  DH mostly has been drinking his tea in the morning and not been interested in food.  Something's up with his appetite, which is a shame on Anguilla, but on the plus side, it means we're saving a lot of money by sharing all of our plates instead of ordering separately.  There's something about being thankful for small favors…

              

           

Anyway, around noon we pack up a beach bag and head to Meads Bay.  We'd never lunched at Straw Hat before, so we set up shop there for a few hours since they give lunch guests complimentary use of chairs & umbrellas.  I ordered the warm tomato tart, a pastry shell filled with a cheese, something a little horseradish, and topped with beautiful, locally grown tomatoes, and which was accompanied by a small salad.  DH opted for the hot dog platter, which was huge.  Neither one of us was able to finish our meal, I'm afraid.  I think there's something about eating during the heat of the day that stanches our appetites.  We did, however, manage to polish off our Tings and Ti punches--one of my favorite rum punches on the island is Straw Hat's Ti punch, which is full of piquant, lime-y goodness.  I'm definitely not a fan of the sweeter punches, especially those topped with amaretto!  Lunch came to $47, plus an additional tip.

Yum--Ti punch!

Two Hobie cats on Meads Bay

After lunch we curled up on our beach chairs and read some more.  Meads Bay is really quite beautiful, with the beach gently sculpted into scallops.  Most of the thatched umbrellas at Frangipani were in use, and looking to either end of the beach you could see crowded stands of white umbrellas & chairs at the Viceroy and Carimar, but everything in between was largely empty.  It also seemed much hotter at Meads than anywhere else we have visited so far on the island: Barnes, Shoal Bay East, West End Bay, and Cove Bay. So while I fully agree that Meads is a beautiful stretch of sand and that the water is equally lovely, there's something about that beach that lacks character for me.  A good comparison, I suppose, would be to say that Meads Bay is the ingenue while other beaches are the older actresses, whose talents and life experiences render them full of character and interest.

Meads Bay looking east toward Carimar

Meads Bay looking west toward Viceroy

Double self-portrait under the umbrella at Straw Hat

 Around 3:30 we left our chairs for a walk towards Viceroy but it was so hot that my husband turned back to see the shade of our umbrella once more.  I didn't persevere much longer.  Despite going for a swim twice, we were too warm to sit out any longer (this despite our umbrella for shade) so we packed up our bag and hit the bar instead, where we chatted with Peter Parles for the better part of an hour, on topics ranging from crazy artists to cricket to the Viceroy to the old Fairmont development (now being developed by a Dubai company whose name eludes me).  After sufficiently cooling down, we returned to Caribella, where I went for my first snorkel there.  I have to say, the snorkeling at Barnes Bay must have been spectacular once upon a time but it is completely colorless now, but there are dozens of small caverns where the fish dart and play and that was interesting enough for me.  If it ever recovered and coral could grow there, it would be a wonderful place to spend hours snorkeling. 

Dressed for dinner--unintentionally out of focus

A special anniversary dinner in Anguilla can mean only one thing for us, and that's Veya.  We were extremely fortunate to catch them open on their last night before closing for a two week vacation!  That news completely took us by surprise when Jerry stopped by our table to chat--and disappointed us, too, as we had been counting on eating there on our last night on the island next week.  There was no announcement on their website or on the travel forums that I could see, so I hope this news will prevent other people from being disappointed at the last minute if they try to make same-day or next-day reservations.  My husband and I swapped out roles for the night and he ordered the two small plates that I almost always get: the grilled watermelon with poached shrimp, mint, & pecans and the flank steak lettuce wraps.  I in turn opted for the full crayfish entree when Tamika, our server, mentioned that they'd just gotten it in that afternoon.  Well, it was far too much for me to finish, with three entire crayfish, halved and drizzled with a ginger beurre blank, accompanied by greens and coconut rice, but it was delicious!  The amuse-bouche for the evening was a conch fritter with a spicy remoulade (what we'd call a comeback sauce at home) and of course the johnnycakes and pumpkin bread served with the meal were also excellent.  We ordered the coconut cake and the mango served three ways for dessert, along with a shot of very good rum from Guatemala (Botran, maybe?), and between courses Jerry also presented us with a complimentary round of rose champagne for our anniversary, which touched us greatly.  Two bottles of water and one additional cocktail brought our meal to US $163, plus an additional tip. 

Veya is absolutely our favorite fine dining restaurant on the island and it has never disappointed us.  Everything from Chef Carrie's cuisine to the warm greetings that every staff member brought to us, to the pleasant treetop setting, to the overall value makes it an experience we can bank on.  We've now been there seven times over the course of five trips to the island and it has proven to be as delicious and consistent from first trip to last. 

Straw Hat's eponymous chandeliers

Literary Blog Hop: Art or Propaganda?

The Literary Blog Hop is a bi-weekly event sponsored by the good folks at The Blue Bookcase, and for each session they ask a probing question about literature.  This time 'round, the questions are ones that my  husband and I frequently discuss: Should literature have a social, political, or any other type of agenda? Does having a clear agenda enhance or detract from its literary value?  (I frequently discuss books this way while my husband discusses art.)

There's a book I read a few years ago that spends a lot of time discussing this very idea.  It's The Spanish Bow by Andromeda Romano-Lax, in which three musicians must decide whether to compose and/or play music that speaks out against the rise of Fascism in Europe (and oh, yeah, one is Spanish, one is Italian, and one is a German Jew).  In other words, where does propaganda end and art begin? Do artists have a responsibility to get politically involved, not just with their personal lives, but with their work as well?

My own response to this week's question is that while many (perhaps even most) great works of literature do, in fact, have far-reaching political and cultural ramifications, the works themselves cannot have been conceived with the sole intent of wanting to make a statement.  The best writers sit down to tell a story, not to express their own views, and if the story is good, those views will find their way into the story anyway and have lasting value.  Hard to imagine War & Peace or Adventures of Huckleberry Finn without their social and political critiques today because you simply cannot separate them--they're part and parcel of the story--an essential undercurrent but not what gives the novels definition.  Animal Farm, on the other hand, is ALL social and political critique with hardly any story to flesh it out.  I guess that's the difference between a great novel and a political allegory: one is timeless and the other quickly becomes dated.

Nothing cheapens or dates a book so much as sensing that the writer's social, political, or cultural agenda takes precedence over the story or the craft.  Take my reading relationship with Barbara Kingsolver, for example. I think she's a very good story teller (hard for me to choose between The Poisonwood Bible and The Lacuna as my favorite) and her stories are absolutely imbued with her own political and social convictions, but they serve her stories, rather than the other way around.  And yet I cannot bring myself to finish any of her nonfiction because the same agenda is there but no novel with which to couch it. 

Nonfiction, on the other hand, fits much better with a political/social/cultural agenda.  It should be persuasive and apparent, and while it can have many layers, it should also be on the surface.  And when I want to read it and be informed and persuaded, I know it's there for me.  But please don't make it the avowed agenda of my fiction!

Anguilla, Anguilla, Anguilla: part the fourth

Enough with the crowds!

Sunday & Monday

This has never happened to us before with only one week on the island, but we have reached that happy point where the days are blending together.  Usually at this stage in our vacation we would be saying to ourselves, "only one more full day, last chance to go to Shoal Bay East, last chance to lime at Gwen's, etc" but with the luxury of a second week on Anguilla we're able to postpone that kind of thinking, at least for a while.  And so yes, our days blend almost seamlessly from one into the other.

At Veya Cafe for breakfast

 Sunday morning was Father's Day, so we had called around the day before to see which places were open for breakfast.  Turns out the Veya Cafe was doing a special  breakfast that day when they would otherwise be closed, so that seemed as good a place as any to break our fast that morning.  We arrived just after 10:00 when they opened and were the only people there.  I was famished, and after reading on various travel forums how customers requested a johnnycake for their breakfast or lunch panini, I did the same and ordered the Prickley Pear, which was eggs, cheese, spinach, onions, and red pepper--with an order of their iced tea to wash it all down.  Though he always feels better by midday, my husband has been feeling slightly ill most mornings here and we can't figure out why, so he ordered a fruit plate and some freshly squeezed orange juice for himself--and reluctantly, after my urging, he added a coconut date muffin to his order.  Anyone who has read my ravings about Veya might recall their phenomenal coconut cake on their dessert menu upstairs and I suspected that this muffin might be of a similar stripe.  Well, it was wonderful.  Stupendous.  Fantastic.  It was absolutely the best full breakfast we had ever eaten on this island (hard to compare it to a place like Geraud's or Koal Keel, where we only order coffee and pastries).  My johnnycake sandwich was the best breakfast sandwich I've ever had.  The fruit was fairly standard as fruit plates go but it was very fresh, but that coconut date muffin, served piping hot, was amazing.  My husband freely admitted that he was very happy I urged him to get it.  His OJ was sweet & pulpy, just the way he likes it, and my little pitcher of tea was perfect.  I know I'm heaping (some might say, wasting) superlatives on this small breakfast, but hey--that's my call to make, isn't it? To balance it out, I will concede that the air was a little still and that on a hotter day it might get uncomfortable, but really, it was very pleasant sitting under the pergola and reading and eating in the quiet. 

Looks refreshing, no?

After breakfast we drove around the island a bit looking for open shops that might carry shaving cream, but to no avail.  But we had a nice drive before heading back to Caribella for the rest of the day.  My husband mostly stayed up on the balcony reading all day, but I alternated reading with swimming.  Around 5:30 we went back inside to clean up and start preps for dinner in.  My husband is a fair cook and does most of our meals when we're at home and I'm the chief bottle washer, so we make a good team.  He prepared a simple meal of pasta with garlic & olive oil, accompanied by some grilled eggplant marinated & sauteed in olive oil, garlic, red pepper flakes, and basil--with a fresh loaf of bread bought at Geraud's earlier that day (can't beat the $1 baguette!) and a bottle of sauvignon blanc.  All eaten al fresco while watching the sunset. Not a bad way to spend an evening, I must say.  DH went to sleep very early while I cleaned up and then spent a couple of hours working on my blog and book reviews. 

Not a bad dinner backdrop

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On Monday, we started our day eating breakfast in and chatting with Vandra again before packing up a bag to take to the beach.  DH chose Gwen's as our spot for the day, but before we headed there we stopped at the smoothie place, which was open--yay!  We shared a Very Berry smoothie with raspberry, strawberry, and blueberry and it was very tasty and refreshing.  $6 each, but there is an option to add a shot of rum for an additional dollar.  Maybe we'll do that one day when we're on the way home.  I know you can't sit on the beach and drink all day if you don't get an early start, but apparently I'm just not hard core enough to want rum in the morning. We all have our little issues, I guess.  Anyway, while sitting & sipping, a man named Darryl introduced himself and we got to chatting.  He's the owner of Real Deal, the winning boat from the Anguilla Day races where he set an island record for circumnavigating AND where the second place boat was fourteen minutes behind him.  He's also a cook at Mango's and we marveled at him that he could go in to work at 4:00am for food preps, be out on the water racing all day 10:00-4:00, then go back to work for the evening.  We told him we admired his preps and cooking very much, as we were staying right next door to the restaurant and intended to go back again before our stay was out.  Just one of the many reasons I love Anguilla--striking up conversations with total strangers and sharing stories and making small connections. 

Waiting for lunch at Gwen's

 Anyway, we stopped at the pharmacy/t-shirt store after that to pick up shaving cream and for me to purchase a swim mask since mine had broken in transit home from our trip last fall.  My fins and snorkel were both fine but the glass on my mask shattered from rough handling and it's been difficult to find a good mask sold separately from the entire snorkel kit, and I didn't want to pay money to replace more than I had to.  Then we were on our way to Gwen's, via the longer route that took us past the Anguilla heritage museum, which was, alas, closed.  We had wanted to try it out but I guess we'll save it for another time.  We were the third couple at Gwen's when we arrived and I was disappointed to note that the hammocks weren't hanging, surmising (incorrectly, it turns out) that they only get hung up for the weekend.  We ordered a hamburger to share, plus a Diet Coke and a rum punch.  Again, even sharing a platter was a little too much food.  We finished the burger and the cole slaw between us but left behind most of the fries and some of the curried pasta salad. 

I know, right?  Pretty shabby!

Upper Shoal Bay + Hammock + Breeze = Perfection!

The obligatory feet-in-hammock shot

Since we both had our backs to the chairs & palm grove, we were very pleasantly surprised after lunch to turn around and discover that the hammocks had been strung up while we were eating, so we ambled over to claim a couple of them.  I can't recall the last time I spent such a pleasant afternoon.  A hammock is a wonderful thing, and Upper Shoal Bay is a wonderful thing, and a stiff ocean breeze is also a wonderful thing, but when you combine the three you end up with a situation so wondrously sublime that it's too magical to believe.  Looking back on it now, it even has a dream quality about it.  So we stayed there for the rest of the afternoon.  Swim, snorkel, snooze--that was my mini-pattern for those idyllic hours.  We tallied our bill around 4:45 (Gwen's closes at 5:00) and it came to US$35 plus tip, which included a mango daiquiri that I ordered at one point in the afternoon.  CASH ONLY.

We had originally planned to call Straw Hat for a dinner reservation that night but neither one of us felt particularly peckish when we got back, so we opted to eat leftovers at Caribella instead.  DH improvised a pad thai with spaghetti that was actually quite good and more than passable while I opted to reheat my cheese pizza from Smokey's on Saturday.  His was better, but my pizza was improved by the addition of a little basil and some crushed red pepper.  We shared a Presidente, watched the sunset, cleaned up together, and then retired to watch another movie: Death at a Funeral.  We had already seen the original British version and hadn't especially loved it, but we were willing to give this one a try based on a friend's recommendation.  It had its moments--Peter Dinklage is always good, of course, and it was funny enough to see Chris Rock playing the straight man, but drug/potty humor can only go so far.  And while I understand that it would be shocking to discover at his funeral that your father was actually a closeted gay man, I don't feel that it would be (and, particularly, should be,) something one could be blackmailed for.  Too bad Hollywood doesn't see it that way. But I digress.

Caribella: the master bedroom

Caribella: Our kitchen

 After the movie I wrote up a few book reviews and started reading a collection of short stories called Ladies and Gentlemen by Adam Ross, the man who brought us last year's cricitally acclaimed and bestselling Mr. Peanut.

Book Reviews: A Threefer

 Here are three books that I have read this week on vacation.  While I did not love them, they were all good and would be perfect for another reader.  Mostly I felt like I was being held at arms length from the story, so while the books were themselves engaging, I did not find myself connecting with any of them.  Perhaps you will. The first book, The Three Weissmanns of Westport by Cathleen Schine, is a NYT Book Review Notable Book of the Year and it is a 21st century homage to Jane Austen's Sense & Sensibility.  Overall it's a fairly light and slyly playful account of an older woman and her two grown daughters who fall on hard times (only relative to their station, mind you) and decide to pool their resources by moving to a shabby cottage in Westport, CT, owned by their cousin.  If you know Austen's novel, you will mostly know what to expect.  While I didn't connect to this book personally, I found the ending to be quite good and satisfying. This book is available from Picador in paperback and I requested a comp copy from my sales rep expressly for this vacation.

 The Bee-Loud Glade by Steve Himmer is a book I first heard about from Jason at Bookazine, through his wonderful blog, Three Guys One Book.  It's the story of a man named Mr. Finch who is fired after years adrift in his cubicle because neither his boss nor he can figure out exactly what he does for the company.  Enter a fabulously wealthy and eccentric man who offers Finch a job as a hermit on his grand estate--all he has to do is take a vow of silence and follow any random instructions (meditate at sunrise, learn to fish, make friends with this lion) he receives and he will earn $5,000,000/year for a seven year contract. The chapters alternate in time between Finch as an old man hermit and Finch just as he's getting started with hermitdom.  Intriguing premise and full of absurdities, I definitely recommend this book even if I personally did not connect with it.  It's available in paperback from Atticus books and I bought this copy for myself after reading Jason's review. 

 The Imperfectionists by Tom Rachman is another NYT Book Review Notable Book of the Year telling in discrete but interlinked stories from various characters' point of view the rise, fall, and demise of an  international English-language newspaper based in Rome.  We get the perspective of various editors, reporters, publishers, and in one case, even a reader of this paper, created in the 1950s and coming to its brutal end in 2007.  It is the story of journalism itself, the very human side of it, with its foibles and glories showcased in equal measure, and it made this reader at least decry once more the age of internet news, where soundbytes have become more important than substance. NB: If you have even a slight sensitivity to animal abuse, please do yourself a favor and skip the last 4 pages of the final chapter, featuring Oliver Ott.  You won't miss anything crucial to the story and you can pick up again to read the italicized afterword and skip a really sad & maddening scene where a beloved pet is made to pay for the sins of its owner. I do recommend this book, despite the caution about the ending.  This book is available in paperback from Dial Press and I purchased a copy for myself expressly for my summer vacation.

Anguilla, Anguilla, Anguilla: part the third

Saturday

Smokey's at the Cove

Another day dawns clear & bright.  Life can be such a burden sometimes.  We spend most of the morning at Caribella, chatting with Vandra when she comes in to change our our towels.  My sweet husband isn't feeling his best, so Vandra and I breakfast together at the kitchen counter/bar while he remains prone outdoors on the balcony.  Around noon he feels better so we head over to Smokey's for a casual lunch and to hear the live music.  It's the first place we've been to that actually has drawn a crowd, and we give ourselves over to the socialization and small chat that arises instead of burying ourselves in our books. Smokey's has a tent up in front of the restaurant on Cove Bay that was about half full when we arrived and full by the time we left.  Lots of honeymooning couples arrived by boat or made the long, hot walk from Cap Juluca--it's always such fun talking with first timers on the island since they're usually so starry-eyed with each other and with Anguilla. 

 DH didn't want to risk eating anything just yet after his wobbly tummy, but I ordered a cheese pizza and a Ting, and later I splurged by ordering a $10 drink called an Infusion, a frozen concoction made with mango, banana, and strawberry, which may be the best drink of its kind I've ever had.  Tall and refreshing and bursting with fruit texture, but not too sweet.  And since it lacked the bright neon colors I associate with frozen drink mixes, and because there was a pulpy residue at the bottom when I finished, I have to assume that actual fresh fruit was harmed during the making of this drink.  Even more surprising, my husband liked it well enough to order one for himself, and believe me when I say that he is not a man who usually trifles with a cocktail that doesn't involve gin on the rocks.  We stayed at Smokey's until a little after 3:00, then headed back home to Caribella.  Our total bill, including another Ting and a Presidente came to US $48, plus tip, but I brought half of my pizza home for later in the week. 

Sporting my new AARF t-shirt

Erosion in front of Arbron

We spent the remainder of the afternoon walking Barnes Bay and swimming.  Here's a riddle for you: What do you do when you purchase a gorgeous, multi-million dollar luxury villa on Barnes Bay?  Answer: Why, you tear it down and rebuild, of course.  I said it before but it bears repeating: some folks just have more money than sense.  Cerulean Villa on Barnes Bay, recently purchased, has gone under the knife.  Or rather, the demolition ball.  I don't know what the heck the construction crew is doing, but they're out there doing it all day long.  (We can't hear it--this is not a complaint, mind you.  It's simply mystification.) Anyway, we snapped a few photos to show the erosion on the beach (another sidebar: which might grow worse if Viceroy gets it way and puts up a breakwater) since a few folks on various Anguilla travel forums had requested a state of the beach address. 

The once-mighty Cerulean

Rugged part of Barnes Bay

I told my DH that he had to wait there until a wave crashed behind him for the photo op.

Saturday evening meal on Anguilla can only mean one thing: B&D's bbq.  We made the sad drive up the hill past Malliouhana and ordered two platters for takeout: chicken, ribs, cole slaw & johnny cake. It's also the best bargain at US $14 for everything--we probably couldn't have cooked in here for that little. We timed it to just have enough time to set the balcony table and pour ourselves a Presidente so we could eat while watching the sunset.  Though I'm always hopeful, I doubt we'll get a green flash sunset on this trip--they're a much more rare occurrence this time of year.  After dinner I blogged a little while waiting for our bedroom to cool down enough, then my husband and I hopped into bed and watched The King's Speech on my laptop.  We subscribe to Netflix and brought our three films with us, something we've never done before, but it was fun to hunker down and watch such a fine film. 

Our most colorful sunset so far

Book Review: The Sweetness of Tears

The Sweetness of Tears by Nafisa Haji

  In her second novel, Haji gave me all of the emotional involvement that I was looking for in The Submission but didn't find, so it was very interesting reading these two books back to back.  This paperback original is a three generational family saga that spans the globe from California to Africa to the Middle East and back again, and like The Submission, religion (particularly Islam and evangelical Christianity) and politics are the very heart of the novel.  It's a story of both cultural prejudice & curiosity, family betrayals and forgiveness, and learning how to re-see your world when the truths you've always taken for granted are not just disrupted but completely uprooted. 

Haji, who wrote the wonderful book The Writing on my Forehead, is a good writer who can get to the very heart of the matter--I never have trouble emotionally identifying with her characters and I trust her to take me on a ride that starts off difficultly but ends with redemption and satisfaction.  I also love how much I learn when reading her books, whether it's food customs in Pakistan or religious traditions in Bangladesh. 

In this book in particular I was also much drawn to some of her truisms about language and religion.  Here are a few that I dog-eared:

In an observation during the Shia Muslim holy time of Muharram and Safar, commemoratingKarbala: "Later, louder voices intruded on the quiet scenes of anticipation that the older women had set, as younger women, for whom the call of piety was of less immediate concern than the social need to be seen as pious…"  Lawd, how many churchgoers did I grow up with who would have fit that definition to a T?!

A missionary exasperated with questions about how many souls she has saved when she's more concerned with the lives she has saved: "I guess [language] says something about the importance of family in some cultures.  Something we could all stand to emulate  Instead of just talking all the time, about family values--only thing I ever saw being valued when I've heard those two words getting thrown around is the act of not minding your own business."

And the same character, later: "Real faith is an action--a verb.  It's truth unfolding…you can't drown it out, covering your ears while you shout out declarations of belief.  That's not faith.  That's cowardice--a fear of truth, which is only scary when you're fighting to keep yourself from knowing it."

This book was published by William Morrow earlier this month and I received a free ARC of it from my wonderful Harper sales rep, Anne DeCourcey.  It also happens to qualify as my second book this year for the South Asian challenge. 

Anguilla, Anguilla, Anguilla: part the second

DAY TWO -- Friday

Gwen's

When the day dawns in Anguilla as bright and clear as Friday did, there can be only one destination: Shoal Bay East.  After breakfasting at Caribella we packed up a beach bag and headed straight to Elodia's, our favorite beach bar on SBE proper because we love Carol and the oversize cabana/tents that we can rent to stay out of the sun all day.  The beach and the water were as gorgeous as always and we soon lost ourselves in our books.  Or at least my husband did; I was only moderately interested in mine and thus I did a lot of people- and pelican-watching.  Around 1:00 we moseyed up to the bar and ordered drinks & lunch.  We could smell the chicken & ribs grilling, so we split the combo platter that comes with fries, cole slaw, and a small green salad.  Despite being very hungry, we simply couldn't manage to finish the trimmings, though we polished off the meat lickety-split!  Very good.  Four Tings, plus $25 for the chairs & cabana brought our total to US $55, plus tip.

Hammocks @ Gwen's

We lingered there after lunch long enough to avoid the worst of the sun and then once 3:00 hit, we took a walk around the point to Upper Shoal Bay.  Gwen's was our destination, where we ordered a couple of rum punches (potent but pricey, at US $8 a piece) and hung out there for awhile.  I took it as my solemn assignment for the day to count the shades of blue in the water in Upper Shoal Bay.  Couldn't actually get a firm count, what with the shifting wind and clouds, etc, so I will clearly have to return and re-evaluate my work.  You know it's a great day when pondering the beauty of the beach is the most crucial thing on your to-do list.

Bellamare Villa

 We left Gwen's to walk up to Bellamare, which is absolutely my ideal among Anguilla villas: traditional West Indian architecture, not too big, fabulous outdoor living spaces, a sense of whimsy & play as relates to the colors and decor, and not created as a Showy McShowplace, like so many other villas I could name, built by people with more money than sense.  No, I've never actually stayed there, but I've drooled over the villa's website and have given strong consideration to staying at the owners' other two (read: less expensive) properties right there. 

DH sporting his new lava-lava

On the way back to Caribella, we stopped at the smoothie place at the Sandy Ground roundabout, ostensibly to see if their hours were posted since they always seem to be closed when we drive by.  Luckily for us, Pamela was there and introduced herself to us, then utterly shocked me when I removed my sunglasses by telling me that she knew me--in fact, had just been reading my blog and looking at my photos.  I can't remember the last time I felt so gratified!  We bought some t-shirts, a batik sarong (or as my husband likes to call them after reading J. Maarten Troost, a "lava-lava"), a bracelet, and a bumper sticker.  I've been sporting one of the tees all day long today and I'm very pleased to say that 70% of the t-shirt price goes to AARF, the Anguilla Animal Rescue Fund.  Pamela has lots of cute t-shirts there and I definitely recommend everybody stop by to get something cute and do some good, all at once.  We left without a smoothie but with a promise to return (she's open M-F, 10-5:00) and try her rum punch, which she mixes according to the traditional West Indian proportions: one of sour, two of sweet, three of strong, four of weak.

Dinner that night was at E's Oven, a restaurant we visited on our first trip to Anguilla but hadn't managed to return to until now.  We were, apparently, the only table there that night, which makes my heart ache a little bit because it's so good and so reasonably priced.  DH had the creole conch and I had mahi mahi (autocorrect wanted to make that magi magi, which seemed funny enough to mention), both of which came with provision, and we finished off with a raspberry mousse layered between chocolate sponge cake.  Our entrees were excellent and the dessert was pretty good.  A good rum punch, two gins & tonic, and a bottle of water brought our total to US $88, plus additional tip.  We were very happy with our meal there and our server was the cutest young lady ever.  We also were mesmerized by the large land snail that we saw crawling on one of the big terra cotta flower pots on our alcove--having both recently read Elisabeth Tova Bailey's The Sound of a Wild Snail Eating (great book, by the way, if you're looking for some good narrative non-fiction of a fascinating subject) we now have a newfound appreciation for these gastropods.  And this was by far the largest landsnail either of us had ever seen!

Upon returning to Caribella, we discovered that we had somehow angered the vacation gods.  Because the a/c in the bedroom wasn't working as efficiently as we remembered from our last trip, we turned it on before going to dinner so that the room would be cool when we got back--and we dutifully shut & locked the balcony sliding doors and shut the main bedroom door behind us.  However, when we got back from dinner we discovered to our dismay that the bedroom door had accidentally locked when we shut it…and of the four keys on our Caribella key ring, not one of them unlocked our bedroom door.  We spent about 30 minutes trying to pick the lock alternately with a hairpin and a credit card, to no avail.  Torn between sheepishness over our having locked the door, and feeling a bit peeved that the proper key wasn't on our keychain, we decided to call the management at 9:30 pm.  Less than 30 minutes later, Elice Brooks arrived and rescued us.  He showed us that they intentionally place a conch shell on the floor behind the door as a doorstop because the bedroom door doesn't have a real doorstop in the floorboard--and when the door makes contact with the wall behind it, the lock is pushed in.  My husband didn't realize why the conch shell was there, so he had moved it out that morning so we wouldn't keep hitting it with the door…thus inadvertently locking the door.  We tipped Mr. Brooks and thanked him profusely (and apologized profusely, too!) and finally tumbled into our bed, chuckling ruefully over the misadventure. 

So, yeah.  It was our fault the door locked.  But I'm going on record as saying that it's pretty unreasonable NOT to distribute the key to the bedroom door to guests when it's clear that it locks so easily!

Another lovely, if somewhat subdued, sunset on Barnes Bay

Shoal Bay East.  When it's this empty, it's beach perfection!

 

Book P(Review): The Submission by Amy Waldman

ARC cover

Final jacket cover

I picked this book up because I was intrigued by the premise and the sly double entendre of the title.  Two years after 9-11, a committee hand-picked by the governor of New York, including a woman widowed on that fateful day, selects a beautiful and peaceful garden design among the blind submissions as a memorial for the World Trade Center.  Big Reveal the First: the winning designer, though American, is a Muslim man.  Big Reveal the Second: the  winning design may or may not be inspired by historic Islamic gardens thought to be the origin of the martyrs' paradise concept. 

Although this book was not what I wanted it to be (it was mostly head, not much heart) it was an interesting read throughout, and a timely one, too, with the tenth anniversary of the 9-11 tragedy fast approaching.  Though the end in particular was not what I was craving (for America & its politicians to do the morally right thing), it was both satisfying and more realistic.  Along the way we get multiple characters' perspectives: Claire, the widow on the committee; Paul, the chair of the committee; Mohammad ("Mo" to his friends), the winning designer whose story gets leaked to the press; Asra, an illegal Bangladeshi woman whose husband also died in the towers that day; Alyssa, a tabloid journalist whose ambition to scoop any aspect of this story far outstrips her humanity; and a sad-sack fellow whose brother died in the towers and whose mother thinks the wrong son died.  Although I suspect most readers who pick up this book will feel true sympathy for very few characters, Waldman does a very good job of presenting this varied cast with as much empathy as possible--all, perhaps, except for the tabloid journalist and the politicians whose machinations twist the brouhaha into something much uglier than it needs to be. 

This book is published in late August from FSG and I received an ARC of it at my request from my sales rep.  The ARC cover, ivory, with cutouts of a garden as seen through a Moorish window, is vastly different from the final, more somber cover, which puts me in mind very much of The New Yorker issue design immediately following September 11, 2011. I think Waldman, a journalist for over a decade, has carried off her debut novel with great credit to her profession.

 

Book Review: Will Grayson, Will Grayson

Will Grayson, Will Grayson by David Levithan and John Green.  

This was a completely engrossing YA novel told in two teenaged boy voices, both of whom happen to be named Will Grayson.  The first Will Grayson is a boy from a solidly middle class family in Chicago who happens to be straight, and his best friend is Tiny Cooper, the larger than life (literally and figuratively) musical-loving  (and -writing) linebacker who happens to be gay.  The second Will Grayson is from the 'burbs, has a working class mom, and is sullen and resentful beyond belief-- which has more than a little something to do with still being closeted and the fact that his alleged best friend has played the rottenest and meanest of tricks on him.  When the two Will Graysons inadvertently cross paths in an uncomfortably seedy location, both of their lives change--eventually for the better, but it might take a little introspection on both of their parts, and being bathed in Tiny's aura of love and sheer joy in life, to notice. 

This is not what I could call an "issue" book, and that's part of what makes it so much fun to read.  Straight, gay, whatever--the characters' orientation isn't so much the point in this book as trying to figure out that strange transition between childhood and adulthood and making the right choices and and treating other people decently and getting over all of your personal hangups.   A little bit coming-of-age, but mostly just slice-of-life, told with little pretense and bullshit.  If you liked Steve Kluger's My Most Excellent Year, and if you don't mind your YA novels with a little bit of grit, you should definitely give this one a try. 

Here's a shout-out to my coworker, Marika McCoola, and to Laurie at What She Read, for reading this book at the right time and reviewing it in a way that made me take it on vacation with me.  I picked it as my airplane read and my faith in it (and them!) was rewarded.  Good stuff! This book pubbed in hardcover last year and in paperback this year and I bought this copy for myself.

Booksellers Rock! And so, apparently, do I.

Okay, so it feels just a *little* bit uncomfortable tooting my own horn, but since I've already heard from a couple of you who've read the profile, it has fed my ego sufficiently to want to share it with more of you. Algonquin Books, one of my favorite publishing houses, interviews one independent bookseller each month and profiles them on their website.  I'm tickled pink (just like my elephants!) to be included in their Booksellers Rock! profile. 

Here is the profile, copied and pasted from their blog, and here is their blog if you want to read it in situ, as it were. :

Booksellers Rock! Emily Crowe, Odyssey Bookshop

Name: Emily Crowe
Bookstore: Odyssey Bookshop
Title: Assistant Manager/Buyer/Bookseller/Big Kahuna

Brief Bio: I’ve worked several venues in the book world ever since I left grad school, including as a publisher sales rep, at a library, and a used & rare bookstore. I loathe cilantro and bigots with an equal passion. Along with the obvious books, I have somehow become a collector of pink elephants and funky socks. And when I make my millions as a bookseller, I intend to retire to a pleasure palace in an undisclosed location south of the eighteenth parallel.

What books recently rocked my world: Not exactly recently, but I think Verghese’s Cutting for Stone and McCarthy’s The Road are the best books of the last decade. I loved last year’s The Tower, the Zoo and the Tortoise for its wonderfully quirky characters, and I’m a believer in this fall’s forthcoming The Night Circus.

Best damn event(s) we’ve hosted: A few years ago we hosted a great fundraiser for the Foodbank of Western Massachusetts: Richard Russo and Stephen King on stage in a conversation about writing, books, and the state of the world. We sold out the 1,100 seat auditorium and raised $17,000. I was so proud of the staff for all of their hard work and long hours of planning to make the event run smoothly and efficiently.
Most entertaining author we’ve hosted: Alexander McCall Smith. How can you not love a kilt-wearing man named Sandy who refused to be upstaged by last year’s volcanic disturbance in Iceland? He opened his U.S. tour this year with our store and he kept the audience in stitches the entire time. Our entire staff was utterly smitten with him.

Strangest question a customer has ever asked: Do you arrange books by size? Because I’m looking for hardcover books about this big [frames a smallish book size with thumbs and index fingers].

Why our store kicks ass: I’d probably have to go with our Topless Tuesday tradition.(Just kidding!) Our staff, plain and simple. They’re the best folks anywhere.

What makes our neighborhood and customers awesome: We’re a bookstore in a small college town—Mount Holyoke College is across the street from us. So we’ve got the best aspects of a small town combined with the best aspects of a college town, right at our
doorstep.

I promise you won’t find this at any other store: There’s a small gold plaque above the toilet in our staff bathroom that bears witness to the fact that Anne Rice Peed Here.

Why I do what I do: Because I want to become rich. Isn’t that why all of us are in
bookselling?

If I weren’t selling books I’d be: living the life of a beach bum in the Caribbean.

Books that changed my life: A Wrinkle in Time by Madeleine L’Engle, Acts of Faith by Philip Caputo, and Mountains Beyond Mountains by Tracy Kidder.

Top three authors, living or dead, I’d invite to my dinner party: Eudora Welty, Jim Harrison, and Jane Austen. Miss Welty might be the only writer I’ve met who could possibly hold Jim in check with her gentle wit and charm. And Austen because she is pure-dee awesome. I think it would make for a great evening.

Top three songs on the soundtrack to my life: “Only God Can Save Us Now” by Over the Rhine, “Coconut” by Harry Nilsson, and “I Still Haven’t Found What I’m Looking For”
by U2.

My last meal request: Warm goat cheese, arugula, & grilled watermelon salad from Jacala in Anguilla; a platter of pulled pork from Big D’s BBQ in Pocahontas, MS; and a huge slice of caramel cake from Campbell’s Bakery in Jackson, MS (same from the Homemade Ice Cream & Pie Kitchen in Louisville would be a close runner-up). With lots of good, lemony sweet tea and a fine sippin’ rum (Ron Zacapa, aged 23 years) to wash it all down. That should do the trick.