Island Residents:
80%+ of holiday makers here are not British.
A Russian plane deposited about 50 new occupants a few days ago. Many of them are very tall and some of the women tower over the men and have very broad backs. Generally.
Next are the Germans. They politely say "good morning" if you can manage to make eye contact with them, otherwise they do not bother with anybody else at all.
There is a smattering of Italian and French residents. Then a handful of Brits - in only about 20 of the rooms. They don't mingle much either.
The Italians like to stand around in gangs, talking. They have a leader. A short bald guy who is always holding court in the centre of a group.
I think that some of the more sociable Brits are trying to emulate this. Geordie Boy has a Jetty Gathering of Brits going on every night after dinner. It seems to consist of him showing the entire contents of his digital camera to everybody who cares to look. I guess I am only jealous, cos last time I looked he had pictures of a turtle, fruit bat and exotic bird. He's always skulking around in the jungle and staff accommodation areas looking for wild life.
According to our waiter, Mohammed, the French and Italians are the biggest complainers - and he reckons that their English improves immeasurably when they need to complain. I observed Mohammed's response to a French woman's complaint about a chip in her coffee cup today. He told her "it is a 3 star resort, not 5 star". I found it all very amusing... chips in cups are, I guess, inexcusable in any establishment! Then he bitched about her to me when clearing up. "She's always moaning and it is her second visit here so she knows what to expect. All of the waiters were trying to avoid looking after her when she got here this time."
The Dining Room:
The dining room is our key source of entertainment here. All human life is there. It is fascinating and we've got the best seats in the house. Right on the edge of the room, near the main entrance and exit door. We see it all.
First off is the disproportionate amount of time that people spend reading the "notice board" at the entrance way. It holds two A4 sized cards displaying the events and food theme for today and tomorrow. It takes a maximum of 10 seconds to read and yet people stand there for several minutes gaping at it. Even taking into account "translation" time for non English speakers, it seems excessive.
Next, the feeding habits of people. Some rush in, bang on opening at 8pm and do not go to their table, do not pass go, do not collect £200 - but they head directly for the buffet as if all the food were going to be gone by 8.02pm. It isn't, they replenish it right up to end of service at 9.30pm.
They pile their plates (often more than one plate) and then soon after we see them going back for dessert. These people are usually exiting the dining room by 8.30pm.
I don't think there is a typical nation that displays this feeding frenzy habit - I was going to say it's mainly the Russians, but they are usually still eating at 9, having gone back for seconds and thirds.
Then there is the game playing at the buffet. Some people do not like to queue (although there rarely is one anyway) so they send one of their party up to "hold the serving spoon" thus stopping anybody else from getting into the buffet tray, whilst the rest of the group all saunter up in their own good time and pass the spoon. The spoon holder manages to maintain ownership of the spoon by adopting a vacant, disinterested look and dropping eye contact with anybody else who approaches them. Clever. Chief offenders here are French and German islanders.
Once we've dissected the group habits at the buffet, Roy and I then home in on individual tables. First we like to discuss who has gone home or is absent for other reasons (a trip?, an argument?, sickness?). Next, we give a quick update on the progression of peoples' tans. Then we debate our particular favourites or their idiosyncrasies.
Roy, for example, is fixated on "Fastidious Man". A person in his 50's who eats so tidily and neatly. Even his plate is arranged neatly, which takes some doing on a buffet. He is often found dining solo, sans wife (I'll come back to her later). We later discovered that she goes diving some days which explains her absence.
My personal favourite is Giant Jimmy Nail. A morose Russian guy in his 20's. I like to observe his rudeness to Mohammed, the waiter, and tut at him. Giant Jimmy Nail is about 7 foot tall. His girlfriend is stunning (she's only 6 foot tall) and he's with her on one of the most beautiful places on earth. And yet he rarely, if ever, cracks a smile. Why so unhappy, Giant Jimmy Nail?
Then of course there is the strange carry on at the table right next to us. It is currently occupied by two French people - although not necessarily at the same time. Occupant 1 is a young pale guy with glasses. We only see him at evening time, usually early, and he's a quick eater who is gone by 8.30pm. He never buys a cold drink. He drinks only the free tea or coffee provided - usually has about 3 cups of it on the table. Occupant 2 is, we think, his grandmother. She is in her 70's - fit and sprightly looking - and also never buys a drink. She seems to appear only after he has left the dining room. One evening, to our amazement, she dashed in at 9.27pm (they're very keen here on clearing up as soon as the clock hits 9.30pm) and proceeded to fill three bowls with food. One for salad, one for hot food and one with dessert. Then she went back for 2 coffees. Goodness knows what time she got out of there, but the waiting staff did not look happy! Last night they surprised us by eating together. Still didn't buy a drink though! I guess they must drink tap water in their room.
I wonder who's got us under surveillance?
Wiggy and other predators.
We have spent many an entertaining afternoon watching Wiggy (our resident heron) hunt fish. He stalks constantly across the shore line, or he sits on top of the buildings (mainly the water villas) watching the shore. He likes to let other fish (baby black reef tip sharks in particular) scare the tiddlers into jumping out of the water - and then he goes in for the kill. After he's got his fish, he leaves it flapping, clamped in his beak, for a little while and then he eats it. Always takes a small drink of sea water afterwards.
Today he had three baby sharks doing the work for him... it was quite a sight. At one stage he went into the trees and brought out a twig, which he placed into the water. Then he sat atop a water villa for a short while and returned to the twig later on. I can only assume it was his market.
He also likes to chase crows through the trees, which is a noisy business.
