
Damn. I took this nice sunset photo from the desk of the main El Momo cottages office up on The Level, then saw the rug draped over the fence. Heck, it’s still a gorgeous view, let’s go wit’ it.
Chaz Sin: One Writer's Sojourn Through An Odd Life

T-5 and I’m headed home to San Francisco. 82 pages to the novel in progress. Scars from numerous hikes here….but happy to have’em. This cartoon-like picture of The Road leading to the English Quarter section of Windwardside has vehicles in it, which is usually a no no, but hey, it’s real life in Saba. As you can see, colors are vibrant in the village still, though they’re quite brown on the slopes, guts, and ridges below as a result of the drought. Even looking at my Dec-Jan photos of the island reminded me how dry it is here now vs how green it was in Dec. Brutal.

The Dutch Coast Guard frigate HMS Friesland visited the island the past few days on a routine drug interdiction pass through the Caribbean Netherland islands; yesterday it dropped off around 40 hyper fit Marines to visit Saba, they all chose to walk or run up the steep road to Fort Bay, through The Bottom, St John’s, and into Windwardside.

A simple picture (converted to watercolor) of three old Windwardside cottages, lined up neatly in a row in the foothills of Mt Scenery. Something so orderly and cool about the way these villages sit on top of the Auld Rock just appeals to me, call me crazy.
Life moves at its steady pace here on Saba as I start collecting boxes to pack, plan a few last hikes, finish up my remaining dives to say goodbye to the aquatic life, and of course, make the rounds to thank the locals, expats, and friends I’ve made along the way. Life is good.

Everywhere on Saba lie these ubiquitous stair steps made of volcanic rock hewn from the isle, including the Mt Scenery trail and countless other pathways in the four villages. Of course, they often lead to nowhere, formerly to terraced farms that have long since overgrown. C’est la vie. They are still uniquely Saban.

The rise of Instagram on the Web has been interesting to me. The program allows ordinary folks to take their digital smartphone pictures and rough them up to look like old Instamatic or Polaroids, so its retro throwback all the way. In that vein of thinking, I kept looking at this picture of a Windwardside road with the telephone lines strung haphazardly to every house, which poses an artistic challenge. My final Jeopardy answer was to rough the picture up, heap some good old film grain on it, and now I’m pleased with the sort of surreal picture that results. If you click on the picture to enlarge it, you’ll see it’s definitely a real picture, but when you pull back on it…this unusual image of the village emerges. In the end, its undeniably Saba, which is what I wanted. It could be nothing else in the world with this combo of colors, cottages, and tropical contours.

My time is ticking, running out here on Saba, and just when I think I’ve run out of images to show, I confront The Road I take to Windwardside from St John’s every day, often 3-4 times a day, and see an artistic perspective I didn’t catch before. That’s today’s pic, the descent out of St John’s after I climb out of the Flat, and bend around past the old GEBE station, where the plaintive bleats and brays of goats on the ridges and cliffs continues, the wind sometimes moans in the cleft between the mountains, and the fog tops Mt Scenery. I dig this place, I really do. Guess I’ll be back in a few years…

Well, these ADD l’il guys may be everywhere on Saba, but this was the first chance I had to actually have one sitting still long enough to snap a focused picture. Now that I did, I think they’re kinda purty thangs…all them colors and such. Wonder if they taste good with in a wild mushroom/red wine demi-glacΓ©? Did I write that out loud? Jus’ kiddin’….testing to see if anyone actually reads this blurb π Cute Tweetie can go be his hyper self with his squeaky family all in the yellow flower trees.
Light rain in the forecast on and off the next couple days, so everyone who’s not here in Saba cross your respective fingers for us. The cisterns–nay, the island–need it…big time.