First we started with a 5.0 earthquake. I can't say that living in a concrete building is good thing when that happens, but we came through unscathed.
Then we had quite a night. It's been a while since we've done it up like that. First, we went to the Marriott for a reception being given for Peter, who I mentioned is not only retiring from his role as British Consul after 23 years in St. Kitts but becoming a Member of the British Empire to reward his over 50 years of service overall. Not only did a representative fly all the way in from London, but the head honchos from the British Embassy in Barbados made the trip to give Peter/Popcorn a little celebratory party as well.
Here's Peter (middle) all gussied up with his higher-ups.
You really can't take us anywhere. Michael was feeling very hoighty toighty because the bartender wrapped his beer in a napkin. I have no excuse.
A rare shot of us together.
Not only did most people make it on time, but we couldn't believe how great everyone looked cleaned up. We knew a lot of folks, because when they're not respectable business people, they're fervent hashers. Interestingly, the only people invited that didn't show up were the politicians (with one exception).
Professor John very proud of his comfy shoes. I'm surprised his wife was willing to pose with him.
Bruce, who was actually embarrassed to be in a suit (he's more of a surfer dude) wouldn't let us take a picture of him all decked out, but he did let us take this one showing how big his feet are. That's Mike's minuscule size 9 on the right. Wow!
We were impressed with the hor 'deurves when 3 of them turned out to be vegetarian: spring rolls, mini spinach quiche, and guava/banana croissants. Yes please! They were all delicious, but rather rich, so we couldn't eat too many (plus we were trying to be dignified so only grabbed one at a time). That was our only food intake for the day, so on that I blame any craziness that ensued later (we were all on our best behavior at the reception). Paul, the British High Commissioner, gave a great speech about Peter. At one point, he mentioned meeting someone who asked him how "Popcorn" was. Of course, clueless, Paul stuttered - well, he enjoyed popcorn well enough, although it did get stuck in one's teeth - before he was educated that Popcorn was Peter's hash name. Peter's helped a lot of British citizens get out of various situations over the years they probably would have preferred to have avoided, started the Hash House Harriers chapter here, and has really been an integral character on the island.
Then Peter got up and made a rather eloquent speech. Who knew he had it in him?? What was really funny was when he talked about all the places he had lived all around the world and then punctuated them with which of his four marriages occurred where. He made a good point that what makes a place "good" is its people, which St. Kitts has an abundance of. He also noted that time seems to go faster the older you get, so enjoy life to the fullest. Hear! Hear! Peter's a good guy and we appreciated being a part of a fun and important event in his honor. Cheers to Popcorn!!
All of us chatting it up and having a good time.
Of course, 2 hours was not enough time to really get into the celebratory spirit, so we all ended up at Mr. X's Shiggidy Shack. We merged with more friends who had just come off a sunset cocktail/party cruise feeling no pain. Any tourist who got caught in this mash up looked dumbfounded as to how so many people could know each other - and be so drunk...
Now that Bruce was back into his "normal" wardrobe (he's the only one who changed), he let us take his picture. Goofball.
I ended up talking to one couple from Pennsylvania for quite awhile and made the mistake of giving my camera to one of the revelers. Here's what I ended up with Don't let your kids see this; you might not want to look either.
Can you tell it was a male who took those shots? Sheesh. Things further deteriorated and I'm not even going to try to explain these pictures. Is this the way a future MBE is supposed to act?? It's really nice that he sacrifices himself this way for the sake of commonwealth.
You'll note in this picture, the duct tape on Peter's fingers. He actually broke his finger months ago and this is his idea of setting it. Don't ask me what the heck the rest of us were doing.
Local band, Royaltiez, was playing so a few partiers got their groove on.
So we left around 12:30am (when the bar closed), were zonked by 1am, and then were woken up 3 hours later by 2 howling cats outside our windows. Well, I was disturbed, Michael snored right through the ruckus. These cats have been showing up at 4/4:30am every day for 3 days now. Oy! Where's a hose when you need one? By the time they were done with their serenade, dawn was breaking which meant that I was up for the day. This, of course, is why I don't do this outing thing very often. Once the sun is up, so am I no matter how many hours of sleep I didn't get. Naps don't work either, so I'll be in a zombie state soon. Was it worth it? Absolutely.
One of those frickin cats is back - MEEEEEOOOOOOOOOWWWWW!!!!! I am so about go kick some kitty butt...