Providenciales - Thursday 10th July

Today Ken and I explore some of the Island - in his Jeep (Oh yeah).

Here's a map and route (in red) of our travels. We head up to North West Point and then down and over to Malcolms Beach. Later, we go down to the south side of the island and visit South Dock.

1) North West Point
This was amazing; completely deserted and very beautiful. On the way there we drive via Blue Hills beach which has lots of local restaurants and bars (sheds) on the side of the road.

We vow to hang out here next time and go to the Conch Shack which looks like an old shed but has a worldwide reputation for being 'the' place to eat conch (here's the menu) in a perfect setting.

We're very glad we have the Jeep as the majority of the way is a stone road or dirt/sand track. There trees and low-bush all the way, which means lots of butterflies and birds. We see a "Mourning dove", which is apparently very rare and lots of "Kiskadee" which may not be the right spelling (sorry Ken!)

When we get nearly to the tip of North West Point we stop and walk out onto the beach.

It is completely empty with amazing dark blue and turquiose water. We drive slightly further to the actual point and at the tip are two navigational posts.

On one of them two Fish Hawks (Osprey) have made a nest. They are both just sitting there 20 feet above us. They are huge and it is amazing to see such big birds up close. One of them swoops over my head so I know it's boss.

Then we walk over the tip of the point to the west side. This is much more dramatic with dried coral reef up to the side of the beach where the sea has receded. It is very hot so we risk a swim and have to walk over the coral to get out to sea.

It is then that Kens' sandle gets stuck between two pieces of coral and he falls cutting his hands, leg and foot. It's very sharp stuff and also bits of coral get stuck in his hands. It is not the weather or location to be injured.

Luckly, after a beer and a sit down in the air-conditioning of the car, he feels ok to go somewhere where we can have a swim without killing ourselves. We head off to Malcolms Beach next.

2) Malcolms Beach (at Amanyara Resort)
The Amanyara resort is an exclusive low-level hotel for uber-rich camera shy types as it is near nothing and is completely secluded and gorgeous. There are sandy beaches and coral reef all around it. It has some of the best diving in Turks & Caicos (TCI) and we saw several dive boats moored up just on the edge of the reef.

After finding the place we stop for packed lunch and then head into the water to cool down. As it's low season in TCI there is no-one on the resort beach so we swim just to the side of it for ages. I am loathed to leave after a few hours but we decide to hunt down one more location before the day is done.

3) South Dock Bay
The area called Five Cays which is to the right of where we drive south has many more local residents and schools. The area after Five Cays, a thin strip of land with bays on both sides, is an expensive area with private detached houses.

The water on either side of this strip, South Dock Road, is the most turquoise water I have ever seen. There are no obvious beaches, or public routes down to the water, but from the road it is beyond pituresque.

There are small islands dotted throughout the water which add to the view. It reminds me a bit of the view from Croagh Patrick (St Patricks Mountain) on the West coast of Ireland with the islands dotted about the bay below.

After such a fresh-air-filled day of beautiful sights, amazing wildlife and injuries we are both pretty tired. We have dinner and discuss South American politics and the state of the British Government before calling it a night.

I say goodbye to Ken and take a final look over the beach and sea before heading back to the hotel to pack.

I am off home tomorrow and although I am loathed to leave my holiday I am also very excited to be going home.

Miami - Saturday 5th July

I didn't wake up until 9. Missed breakfast and ache all over - again. My feeble body is pants. That's English pants, we're not talking trousers here. Plus I have a headache.

Shall I mope about today? Shall I heck. I'm city bound!

Today, after a slow start and le interweb I decide to head downtown and checkout Little Havana. It's quite a distance but the weather is cool, windy and a few showers: perfect for cycling.

No chance of sunburn today. Before I head out I get some money - and find a drive-in ATM. Can you believe that? How lazy can people be - or is it clever and convenient?



Part way there and drizzle turns into rain, and my ride turns into a marathon journey.



Two causeways and a dual carriageway later and my once white shorts are now brown. When I get to the outskirts of the city I decide an emergency fashion shop is in order and buy two pairs of 3/4 length dark trousers immediately. Plus I get changed into one of them in the store - the guy running it is a star. ($18.88 - bargain!)

Typical of any city a tourist MUST arrive at the seediest part. Think Kings Cross or Waterloo when you don't know where you're going. After getting hassled for money I decide I should find somewhere for lunch and check the map. A little Cuban place is my choice where my pigeon Spanish gets me fresh lemonade and a croquette (cheese & ham toasted sarnie). And then I head off to Little Havana.

15 blocks.
15 blocks of Cuban cigar places, Spanish frontages and generally non-America. It's very sweet but also quite daunting as it's so different. I suddenly realise I'm racing through this place and must be suffering from TF = Tourist Fear. This is an unjustified feeling of fear based on lack of knowledge of surroundings. I always suffer from this, as I expect most non-travellers do, when I don't know a place and I'm on my own.

I master the fear, and look through a few record shops and general stores. It's weird. Most of the places are closed (just like Spain) but if I'd ever been to South America I could swear it was just like that.

I stop at some lights and glance down at my arms. Hmm, getting somewhere with the tan at least.

"Hey!". (What the....)
"Are you from Boston?"
I see who is taking to me, a slightly drunk young man walking towards me.

"Man, you're so white you look like a Ghost!" (Great)
"Er, no I'm from England actually."
"England. Jeez, what the hell are you doin' here?" (Good bloody question.)
"Be careful on the roads man. Look, when you get where you're going have this beer on me".
He shoves a Budweiser in a plastic bag into my bike basket and pats me on the shoulder.
"You sure are a pretty girl from Boston though, you know?"
I'm off pal!
"Thanks" I holler over my shoulder and hurtle down the road.
Christ, maybe TF is right. I better get out of here.

I go a few more blocks before heading back. TF means I don't get my main camera out but I manage a few good shots with the phone.

The city on the other hand is dead. I guess as it's a Saturday there are no city people here. But there are apartment buildings everywhere. Or should I said apartments being built everywhere. Was reading in the TO gospel about the worry that the amount of buildings may not equate to the amount of people that actually want to live here. Guess that's proving right. There's not much to do and it's getting late so I head back. If I'd got my act together earlier I would have had time to do Wynwood and the Design District - guess I'll put that on the Lost Opportunities post.

45 minute cycle back = gruelling, should be easy but for some reason I'm feeling very tired and I literally crawl into my hotel.

Wimbledon Mens Final tomorrow! (oh the joys of home)