Getting Used to Grenada



A Rough Start with Grenada


This fellow lives in the bathroom.

We arrived late at night.
No food. Trouble with immigration.
ATM not working. No money.
No rental car.

Dim roadside bars with shady characters. 
It took me back to days in Liberia
The dark greens of the jungle, the heavy sky. 

Rain gushing over the edges of the roof.
Wind howling thru the palm branches. 
The house was more worn and weather-beaten than I’d expected. 
Mosquitos. Bats, inside the house.

And then that mysterious knocking.

The rough Atlantic windward side.
No real beach, just kelp and tangled fishing baskets.

Stressful driving on the left side, through narrow, crowded towns.
Shops with meager fare promised limited meals. 

Above all, the comparison with lovely Guadeloupe.

The neighbors' house

But after a week, it’s won me over. 
We're on the far side of the island. 
Near Crochu, in St. Andrew.

Colorful houses and gardens, friendly people, curious goats.
The very old-fashioned feel of everything.

This is a place to fall in love with.
After all that initial uncertainty - it feels supremely comfortable.



The house is spacious, open, artistic. 
Wooden staircase to a sleeping loft with a view of the ocean.

Large outdoor shower with a jasmine tree growing in it. 
Two resident lizards in the shower.

Our lovely wooden rental house, deep in the jungle.
The breeze is exquisite. 
The wide balcony extends around the house. 
It’s completely private. 

The worn wooden floors, the mosquito nets. 
Even the bats zooming in and out the open doors are a treat. 

The house is well hidden, down a long path.
At the end of a jungle road. 


No cars, no traffic, no noise. 
Just the sounds of goats, chickens.

And the waves below the house. 
Moonlight.


Clouds and sudden rainstorms.
Birds, plants, lizards.

 It’s a good place to just - enjoy. 
Nap. Read. Sort photos. Play guitar.

 Rewrite a book (which is what Stan is doing-).
And finally read everything that's been on my list forever.



St. George is a pocket-sized capital.
Picturesque harbor and lovely old buildings. 

There are marinas and markets, beaches and boats.
Yet, it’s still a “local” town, and the locals are delighted to share it with us. 

People have time to talk. 
No strangers here.

This - is the friendliest island so far.