Long before the French and the English fought over Saint Lucia (‘ownership’ of the island changed 14 times in between them), this beautiful place was called “Where the Iguana lives”. And if the lizards don’t stop drowning themselves in our pool, they might need to rename it to “Where the Iguana dies”.
Apart from lizards floating belly-upwards, Saint Lucia feels like a safe place to me. People here a friendly and open. If they were more reserved, I’d completely understand. It’s not too long ago that Saint Lucia regained its independence. It was 31 years yesterday, to be precise.
We ventured out to watch the independence day festivities and the parade. Despite the extremely steep roads, we made it without losing the pram or its content. The locals were wearing accessories in the national colours blue, yellow and white. Big M felt very much at home with the yellow and the blue. Classic case of ‘you can take the Swede out of Sweden, but you can’t take Sweden…’.
Little L was banging her head and shaking her legs to the tunes of the marching brass band. A delegation of London’s Metropolitan Police supported the parade with their tubas and trumpets.
We were strategically positioned with a good view on the band’s behinds. And I couldn’t help butt think: It just ain’t fair! The folks over here have bum superiority! Imagine a big, round, white ass, hot-pants-clad, wiggling and jiggling to the thumping beats of some Sean Paul remix. Is it just me, or is this image causing you pain, too?
Now replace the big white butt with a beautylicious black bum. There you go.
But it’s not only bum envy that’s bugging me. I have serious gardening envy, too. A little effort leads to a lot of nothing in London. Whereas here it leads to this:
Everything just grows and flows and blossoms and blooms. I am tempted to relocate. The only thing holding me back is that the blog name Island Mum is taken already.