Curacao

Okay so I’m now three “places of interest behind” It’s all very well for you but we’re on holiday you know. It’s really busy!! And I’m soooo slack – ok – I am.                                                                        Curacao – pronounced; cure a sow, I’ve often wondered and always said it wrong. Yes, its cure a sow – with oinkment I think, hahahaha. It’s getting to me, this cruising, don’t have to think so don’t, then can’t even think. I think they put something in the water – I know they take everything out of it! Or maybe it’s in the air con.                                                                                                             31^st July was one of our dining buddy’s eightieth birthday so we celebrated with party hats and speeches. Bob Trustme Hadlow (former accountant and constant stock watcher) was the MC. Hoppy Bookfiddler Hopkins was treasurer so balanced the books with a 15cent surplus which he presented to Margaret Mainstay Hadlow as a bonus; I devised and performed a poem, my middle name “Wildchild”!! Am I so transparent? Pat Chief Purser Roe – being the celebrant’s wife, had ordered a lovely cake for Gordon Rooster (ex-chook farmer among much else) Roe; Alison Where’s Peter Everett recited a naughty Pam Ayres poem - no prizes for guessing her husband’s name apart from the preceeding Professor;  toast giver was Frances Fingers Feneck – a bit of a gambler,  and his wife – part of the Executive Committee -  Jan Fashion Flaunter. Yes we had fun – poor old Gordon was quite homesick for his family on the night, apart from having the latest fad throat infection.                 
 At Curacao we took another snorkelling trip – this time on a chubby motorboat called Miss Ann – and went to dive on a sunken tug, well as usual, I enjoyed a twenty minute flounder. We had to travel through a lot of the island to get there and through a posh suburb to Spanish Waters. Lovely homes going to the water’s edge with jettys and flash boats  – reminded me of Gulf Harbour. There was a massive ferry tied up at the wharf waiting for an investment  partner. They don’t have a ferry service at the mo. to Venezuela although it’s only 17 miles away. They don’t get tropical storms here - they just get a little more wind and rain than usual if there’ s one in the area. Hoppy snorkelled for 1 ½ hours – thought I might be a widow but there he was. A group had moved way around the bay with one of the locals. The coral was ok – a few different ones but not much colour. Plenty of fish – quite big – esp. round the tug. After everyone was on board we had the usual rum punch – this one definitely had more punch than the last! (I mean more rum). We also had a kind of turnover thing with beef or cheese in it and deep fried. Was horrible really. One of the women in the crew has been here for 40 years. Used to holiday here from Nederlands and decided she didn’t want to go home anymore so here she lives and not a bad spot either.                                                                                    
The town was like a painting. All pastel colours and what they call “gingerbread fascias”. A short stroll took you to town via a pontoon bridge which swung open to let any vessels through. Really quaint. I’ve finally realised what is called “good shopping” is all $1000 plus jewellery. Not my style at all. We like the markets and cheap T-shirts. At the far end of town a river going into the sea also comes into a mall and hotel area. We saw a lovely big iguana on the wall here. That’s more our cup of tea. Another fascinating place and very relaxed and friendly. A few more negro looking people here. We had a chat with one guy playing a drum. He taught little kids. Had no idea where NZ was until I described it as near Antarctica!! Hop posed with him for a photo op. rattling his maracas – couldn’t quite get the beat but we didn’t photograph the music! Then it was back on board after the stroll along the promenade and off to the Panama Canal after another sea day.                               We’re both in good health except for the results of that fried bread turnover thing I had half of. Hoppy’s now more trim after exceeding my weight by 4 kgs. He loses weight so easily. He’s even buying smaller t-shirt sizes. I must admit the ones we bought in New York need to shrink!!!