…so, for your delectation and as a reward for your patience while I was off-line, a further selection of some of me ‘oliday snaps.
Sometimes, the departing soldiers take their toys home. Sometimes not. I have no idea how long the manufacturers expect a tank to last, but this has been a-mouldering in the mangroves for more than 60 years!
It was Kava Night at the hotel and these two fellows are part of a traditional dance troupe who entertained us. The nut shell anklets and the swishy headgear didn’t seem too uncomfortable, but the palm leaf penis sheaths…ouch!
One afternoon, we met this group of kids, dawdling along the shore, en route from The French School. One lad asked if we spoke French and I said: “Oui, mais je ne parlais pas le francais depuis…oh, quarante ans.” Eyes like organ stops! He’d probably never met anyone that old! And in a delightful mixture of French, Bislama and broken English, they told us about the big seeds they’d collected to play with. A knock-down game, perhaps like conkers without the string?
And that, for a few days anyway, should be a sufficient “fix” for you. I have a couple of art shows looming and very little work ready! So, to the blades, to the blades…
Oh, if anyone wondered why I’d not been blogging, it seems my browser was the problem.