BALLS!

So... on Saturday I ate some testicles. YUM! What a treat, I hear you cry! I’d been invited by Nelta and Josée to a beach barbecue at Les Salines, at which some friends and family of theirs were cooking a whole lamb. And I mean the WHOLE lamb. Nothing was left out...

We were right in the middle of the introductions when a large, smiley man came my way with a plate of some kind of stew and insisted that I try it. I asked him what was in it and he said it was a secret recipe. So, not wishing to offend my hosts, and thinking it was probably just some strange kind of fish anyway, I dug my plastic fork in and pulled out the least grisly and offensive lump I could find. All eyes were on me as I took a bite. It was fairly soft and mildly spicy and, since everyone was looking at me, I declared it delicious. The man seemed VERY pleased and kept asking me, ‘Tu l’as aimé?, t’es sure?, ce n’était pas trop piquant?’. His constant search for approval (as well as the slightly mad glint in his eye) made me a bit suspicious. So when no one was looking I dropped the remains of my forkful into the sand and quickly buried it with my foot. And a few hours later when Nelta told me what it was I didn’t feel very surprised, and I acted like I was very brave and entirely unperturbed. ...But inside a small part of me was vomiting into my sun hat.

Samedi soirée was spent in Trois Islets with Courtney, Rosie, Georgie and the Irish contingent. We were planning on going to see the Carnaval parade there but execrable weather put a stop to that and we went for pizza instead and then on to drink Mojitos and have a dance at a bar. It was a fun night, but we all felt a bit worse for wear on Sunday. And so yet again I didn’t manage to go to a Carnaval parade that was going on in Fort de France. I saw the Trinité schools’ parade the other day but I feel like I ought to make the effort to see a grown up one too – even though I can’t help feeling it’s a bit hypocritical for such supposedly pious folk to do such unashamedly sexy dancing (I don’t mean a little bum wiggle – I’m talking GRRRRRinding that ass into the nearest person’s groin), and for such homophobic men to dress in drag and prance around in fishnet tights and G strings... well I suppose that’s the point of the festival – to get all the sinning out of the way before Lent. But I just don’t really get this culture however hard I try.

Anyway, new photos have been uploaded to Facebook, for those who have access to it, and Photobucket uploads will be coming soon for everyone else.


And thanks to JN for this news report:

Reuter's reports that this year's Nobel Prize has been awarded to an Englishwoman currently living on the West Indian island of Martinique. Ms Lindsey F (an expert on rare insects) has recently published groundbreaking medical research which reveals that a virulent strain of malaria, carried by tropical mosquitoes, can be completely controlled by the use of The Malteser Method. It is believed that as soon as the victim sees an offending mosquito, he (or she) opens a bedside box of Maltesers and pelts the insect to death. At a Press conference held yesterday, Ms F said modestly, "I just owe it all to Maltesers". She then shouted "Bananas" - at which the entire Press corps collapsed in hysterical laughter.