Monday, February 13, 2006

If we were here on a week’s vacation, the weather would be heartbreaking. It was storming this morning, and Michael doubted highly that the 10:00 a.m. water taxi would be going over the Little Corn. But I insisted on packing up anyway and giving it a shot – what if the weather cleared and the sun came out and we were stuck with our things strewn all over the room and rent paid for another night and the 10:00 a.m. water taxi left without us?

But our effort was wasted. The weather continuted to be lousy and we found that the water taxies had been cancelled for the entire day. We had a lunch of chicken curry and then checked back into our same room. The proprietress, who had been nowhere to be seen when we checked out (we gave our key to a little girl) said if she had known what we wanted, she could have told us there was no way. “It’s the moon,” she said. “It’s always three days for the moon. It’s going to be full tonight.”

We lost power early in the day so no blogging for me, and even worse, no Sim City. Weather bad enough to prevent traveling to Little Corn is also bad enough to keep us away from the beaches on Big Corn. So I pretty much slept all day, and listened to the crazy parrot next door.

I don’t know what goes on in that house, but judging by the unholy wailing of the parrot, it’s not good. The best of what he was mimicking seemed to be a baby crying. We began to miss the parrot back at Laguna de Perlas who would periodically screech "MaMA! ...PaPA!"

Oh and also I think I got fleas or something from lying on that grubby bunk on the fish boat. The backs of my upper arms and the upper backs of my lower arms (In other words, the only parts of my flesh to actually contact the mattress) are covered with tiny pink bites. They are remarkably, persistently itchy. Lame.
We took a walk late in the afternoon and found a strip of beach where the wind was so strong that I could spread my arms and lie back on it, fully supported. That was pretty cool, but I hope we can get to Little Corn tomorrow. It’s late now, 9:30 p.m. and the wind is still rushing by at the same speed.

 

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The rainy front walkway of the Hotel Creole, Big Corn.

Weather too bad to leave cross from Big to Little Corn.

Gray and windy.

Mysterious bites.