Today, I’m leaving for Grenada as part of a Rust Party comprising Duggie Heath, Daffers and Nancy. This time, ably assisted by Nancy, I organised the trip.
They had my wrong email and so nothing was confirmed, you are forced online, they won’t send paper tickets but my p/a Polly who knows about such things thought the package which is full board and business class flight reasonable value.
Over the week I found myself ruminating on travel in my lifetime. In my early morning constitutional, I encountered my smiling postman who had been to St Lucia, as has been my philosophical window cleaner who is an enterprising traveller.
Their grandparents would probably be one of 60,000 whose idea of a holiday was a bank holiday on the coast.
Their parents might have gone on a package to Benidorm but now the world knows no bounds in an era of cheaper air travel.
For me travel is less these days about seeing a new place or revisiting one – I love the French Riviera – but rather getting away from it all.
It’s not been a happy time with the passing of A, a kidney stone and the loss of my parents’ best friend.
A bit of winter sunshine won’t harm and though my cricket knowledge is nothing compared to Duggie’s I will go to the ODI at the cricket stadium built by the Chinese.
They certainly seem active in stadium construction as they built the one at Kandy in Sri Lanka too. The Caribbean has always had an American influence as well as British colonial that introduced cricket and is arguably the most potent force unifying the Caribbean so the culture cocktail is an interesting one on which I will report further.