I can’t remember which Oom Schalk Louwrens story it was when he fell asleep under the Withaak Tree and woke up with the Leopard looking over his tattered boots but this had a Caribbean version of the feeling.

There are two pubs at the landing (mostly given the prevailing easterlies) start of the airstrip. On the more southerly side they have nice decks looking out over the ocean and the landing approach but they play bonka bonka and rappish music, far too loudly, so we avoided that.

On the more northerly side, they have a smaller scale setup with Latin and other gentle music, beach chairs to recline on and pleasant maidens who feed you cold chibulis and (for Liz) the Caribbean’s most wonderful Mojito (more green stuff than you have ever seen).

As Phil McInnes would say, “It’s a tough life, but somebody has to do it”.

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