We left home in the wee hours of Sunday and after a 16 hour flight, we were met by a bespectacled man wearing a rather shabby cap of some sort and a over-sized shirt which bore the name of some sort of tobacco product (Ghurka). He introduced himself, and oddly enough, he was the one I was scheduled to meet with today. He told us that he knew we were probably exhausted by wanted to make sure we had dined sufficiently before going to our inn. We stopped at a quaint pub and had a few drinks and lots of delicious food. Then we were whisked off three whole blocks to our inn, which I would never have guessed would be an inn. Our host told us that it was a converted carriage house and there was a pool of sorts in the midst of the courtyard. He also took the liberty of setting our breakfast order to be delivered at 8:00 as our first session would take place at 10, which would consist of a stroll.
I showered and was so tired I didn’t even bother with a dressing gown, just crawled under the sheets and only woke to the knocking at the door for breakfast. Still groggy, I stumbled to the door and flung it open rubbing my eyes. When the tray hit the pavement, I was wide awake and suddenly remembered I was bare ass naked answering the door for breakfast. I slammed the door shut and apologized through the door repeatedly. From the other side of the door I heard the young man apologizing too. 15 minutes later, I was hiding in the lav trying to compose myself, when another knock came and Logan got up and answered this time. An older woman delivered our meal and told Logan, “Yo bruthuh dun gone an skeert mah sun summin’ fearce. He ain’ seen so man what ain’ got no twig and berries.” Logan apologized and promised it would not happen again. Now I’m not allowed to answer the door for the next two weeks, and am even MORE self conscious about my appearance.
We found our host had sent a pedal cab for us and pedaled us to a park which overlooked the bay. He had brought a thermos of tea (much to my gratitude) and said all we would do before lunch was walk and talk. So we did. Logan first and then me. Our stories were almost identical. I never knew that the Grunge had done to Logan all he had done to me. We stopped a few times to look at the scenery, which was breathtaking. And our host didn’t say much, just listening as we walked.
After a couple of hours, our host asked us if we would like to try some local cuisine or something more neutral. We opted for local and he said there was a wonderful place where we could get something called “grits” and shrimp. Still not sure what the hell a “grit” is, but the shrimp were tasty. I had asked for tea and discovered it was thickly sweet and full of ice. Not what I was expecting.
After lunch, we walked to a pier where there were these enormous swings. We all three fit comfortably in one and we listened to our host. He asked a few questions for clarification on some events, but he made so much sense. I felt completely at ease with him. Amazingly, in just one day, I feel more alive.
This afternoon, he’s taking us on a tour of the “historic district” and this evening, we are going to an “off the beaten path” place he calls “The Wreck.”