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Published: February 11th 2007
Let's put Uri on the back burner for awhile. His ideas need to simmer in my mind for a few more days before they are going to be ready to be served. In the meantime, I will tell you all about some day-to-day adventures that we have been having.
A few days ago, one of our fellow Canadians called Jonathan, took us to a lagoon that is about one hundred paces from the shoreline. Jonathan is a Montreal web designer who spent this past December in New York City selling Christmas trees to very wealthy people on a street corner of the West Village. Apparently, it has been tradition for years that Canadians head down with their trees and create tiny temporary forests. A 12' tree will easily go for $500 American. (No more complaining about the price of fresh cut trees in Vancouver, Dad!) Jonathan is a very tall guy with a handsome face. Slap a few pounds and a plaid button-up shirt on him, surround him with trees, and he'd easily be mistaken for a lumberjack. So, not surprisingly, who got their name in the newspaper for being "Sexiest Tree Seller in New York"? That's right, none other
than Canada's own Jonathan Lumberjack. (Word to the wise- don't tell something like that about yourself to Sarah and I unless you want to be teased relentlessly for it) We set off in the late afternoon after having had a long and lingering breakfast at a restaurant built into a hill and overlooking the Arabian Sea. The walk did not take us very long and we soon found ourselves at a much less populous beach with parasailers floating directly overhead. The beach seemed to be folded into the mountains. It was steep and the waves crested in very shallow water, stirring the sand like a storm. Sweaty from our walk in the Goan sun, we stripped down to our swim suits and plunged into the cool, salty water. The waves carried us peacefully. Attempts were made to body surf but the sea was not agreeing and the surfer either wound up left behind by the wave or face first in a cloud of sand. Eventually our eyes and the insides of our noses began to sting from the salt. We gathered ourselves up, took one hundred paces inland and found ourselves at the lagoon. It was actually much colder than
the ocean had been and schools of tiny fish flitted around our ankles. Fresh water is generally not a good place to take a swim in India so I dipped myself up to my shoulders to get off my salty coat and retreated from the parasites to shore.
The next step on our adventure was to get a little dirty. (Now, don't let your minds wander! Just because we were with Tree Seller of the Year.........) We set off to have a mud bath. It involved a short trek through the forest in flip-flops, nothing like the flip-flop hike I managed with Ewen in Western Australia fraught with giant poisonous spiders, but a trek none the less. After a few scratches from errant branches, Jonathan pulled from his sack a giant axe and cut a clear and safe path for us while whistling a Canadian folk tune. Disappointingly, the mud bath did not include a fuzzy white robe or a claw-footed tub. There was a small river and a big cliff of red clay. The trick, we learned, was to dig away at the red cliff until you found the white stuff. This white stuff, when mixed with water and spread onto the skin, supposedly had special healing properties. Sure, whatever. But it did make for a great exfoliant and some silly pictures. What happens when you use the red mud instead, you ask? After it is washed off, your skin retains a lovely, fake-tan orange glow. I suppose it's a little better than the lobster red look I've been sporting for the past few days. Well, maybe not better, but different. It's good to change things up every now and then.
I miss home a lot this morning. I hope everyone is well. Thanks for all the words of encouragement regarding the blogs. I'm still a bit in shock that anyone actually reads them! I've got to rush off to meet Sarah. Wouldn't want to be late!
All my love, Carlie
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anonymous
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Hi Carlie and Sarah. $$$$ Come December you will find me, a Canadian lumberjackie, standing on a street corner of the West Village. After all these years I have finally been told where the easy $$$$$$$ is. Tomorrow I will begin searching for my plaid shirts, and in keeping with the season, and being Canadian, I will look for the good old red and white plaid. Do you think a pair of black, red or green pants would complete the ensemble? Maybe a few sprigs of berry laden holly hanging from my hair, and a pair of silver jingling bells dangling from my ears would entice people to buy MY trees. Hey, how about a pair of fabric antlers as well. Those should really get the crowds attention. Boy o boy I am on a roll now. Yes, I do believe a big red rudolph nose could clinch the deal. New York City here I come!!! Just being goofy. I promise that my next message will be short and sweet. Continue enjoying your adventures. Would love to see more pictures. Carlie, do you think you could get directions to West Village from your friend Jonathan. Hopefully he won't mind giving them out.....unless of course he is afraid of the competition. OMG enough already.