A Very British Trip Report - August 2007 - Day 14

Kevin Stringer

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Who’s goin’:

Me: Kev, 49. I think I’ll be permanently 49 from now on.
Wifey: Tam, 43. I guess that means she can be permanently 43.
Daughter 1: India, 16.
Daughter 2: Georgia, 13.
There will be a few interlopers along the way as well.

If you want to know more about us, look at www.kevinstringer.co.uk

I don’t sleep all that well due to a particularly insistent itch from an insect bite. So far the bitey things have been pretty good, I’ve only been properly bitten twice and one of those was in Times Square in New York. Anyway, I do seem to have a more severe reaction to these things than other members of the group.

Up just after 8.00am and we have breakfast in the room before clambering into the car to drive the 10 miles or so to the US Golf shop. This is one of the few forms of shopping I can tolerate, the others being the Disney Store or Victoria’s Secret.

There is a sale on (in the golf store, not Victoria’s Secret) and we get a bit carried away. We buy golf shoes for both me and Tam, 2 golf shirts, 2 golf gloves, 2 leather belts, some golf tees, 2 golf towels and a pitch mark repairer. The total bill? $138. You’d barely get one pair of golf shoes for that in the UK.

Onwards to North Beach. This seems to be one of the few beaches on the island with public parking. Most of the little side roads that lead to beaches are residential and don’t allow parking.
North Beach is very similar to the area around the beach house, a wide expanse of sand with many people on it. It’s never too crowded though as it’s so large. The sea is a little rougher today, not enough to bother anyone, but there are a few white-topped breakers.

beach1.jpg


beach2.jpg


Georgia and I have a swim and as we bob up and down with the waves we discuss the things we want to do in WDW as we drive down to Orlando tomorrow. Deb and Matt are flying in to Miami today and we’ll meet up with them tomorrow. Susan and Lu Beth fly in to Orlando tomorrow for us all to get together at Raglan Road at 7.00pm. This is going to take military style planning and a lot of good luck for it to all come together.

It’s another scorcher today in the upper 90’s, but there is a breeze on the beach that helps to cool things down a little. It’s still hot enough to make Beelzebub himself reach out for an ice-cold beer though.

beach3.jpg


Around 2.30pm we head back to the room to start packing. At least Tam and I do, the other two lazy little ratbags disappear to the swimming pool. I don’t really begrudge them this, especially Georgia, as, for reasons I won’t go into here, she hasn’t been able to go swimming yet on this part of the holiday. She’s been sat forlornly watching everyone else splashing about in the water.

Packing nearly complete, I sit on the balcony with a cold beer and think about our stay at Hilton Head. It’s been very enjoyable, but I do think the resort lacks a nice lounge and an upscale restaurant. I know you can walk across to Shelter Cove to enjoy these things, but a bar along the lines of The Green Cabin Room at Vero Beach would improve things enormously for me. The other weird thing is when everything shuts down at 10.00pm. I don’t mean it begins to close up at 10, they are stacking chairs on the tables and ushering you towards the door. Even in my advancing years, that’s a bit early!
Maybe we are used to a more Mediterranean style of dining. In virtually every resort in Europe it is unusual to begin dining before 8.00pm and very often much later than that.
Hey, you know me. Mr Grumpy, I always have to have something to moan about. It’s the only thing that makes me happy.

The girls return to the room and Georgia joins me on the balcony to look for Boris. Now Boris is our pet spider (and a large beastie he is too) who has spun a web in the corner of the balcony. We can’t see him today and I tell Georgia that he may have gone on vacation to Spiderworld where they have spider-coasters and spider-shows. Georgia thinks this would be a very scary place and doesn’t want to go there. I’m not so sure, having 8 appendages to grasp 8 beers while singing along in Spiderrolls sounds good to me.
It’s funny, sitting here enjoying a couple of beers is probably the most chilled out I’ve been all holiday and I thoroughly enjoy it.

Everybody showers and we get ready to get a taxi to the Wreck of the Salty Dog in South Beach marina. As it’s our last night we decide we might as well get on Hilton Head time, as such a taxi is ordered for 6.00pm.

We arrive at the marina and go to the restaurant to request a table. They tell us it will be about 45 minutes. That’s ok, time for a drink. They give us a beeper and off we go.
Now, things get a bit confusing, as everything seems to have something to do with the Salty Dog. First we go to the Salty Dog shop where Georgia and India buy T shirts. Then we go to the Salty Dog bar for a margarita before visiting the Salty Dog restrooms for a Salty Dog ….. well, never mind what we did in there.

saltydogcafe.jpg


Our beeper goes off to tell us our table is ready so off we go to The Wreck of the Salty Dog restaurant carrying our Salty Dog margaritas with us. I’m not sure who Salty Dog is, but I know one thing, he ain’t short of a bob or two.

Our table is outside, which is perfect for us. It overlooks the marina and there is a guy playing a guitar and singing. Cool.
The inside of the restaurant is a lot lighter and not so atmospheric, I would advise an outdoor table here if you can get one.

The food is good. India and I have bruschetta chicken, Georgia has smothered chicken and Tam has the ribs. A bad mistake on Tam’s part, the ribs are huge! She can’t finish the first of two racks. Me and India have to help out, it’s the least we can do.
I wouldn’t say the food here is stunning, but the whole experience with the music, the setting and the view make it equally as fun a night as the one we had at the Ocean Grill.

girlssaltydog.jpg


The guy sings a few songs we know like ‘5 o’clock Somewhere’ and ‘Ring of Fire’ and we all agree that we are looking forward to meeting up with Deb, Matt and the Yankee contingent tomorrow. Georgia even announces that she has not seen Matt for so long that she is missing him. A doctor is called and a large dose of anti-Matt medication is administered.

After the meal we get a taxi back to the resort.
Whilst getting ready to come out this evening we were playing Bob Marley on India’s I Pod. I’m not one to boast, but my reggae version of ‘the Old Grey Mare’ is nothing short of spectacular. I promise a Disney version at 6.15am tomorrow morning. I can tell by the looks on the faces of the women that they can barely wait.

Kev
 
I was just reading along, thinking what a nice day my friends had, minding my own business, when all of a sudden things turned nasty. Who in heck are you calling a Yankee?! I thought you were my friend.
 

Georgia even announces that she has not seen Matt for so long that she is missing him.
I have always thought that the smallest Stringer is one of unquestionable taste - well done you!

SusanEllen said:
Who in heck are you calling a Yankee?!
Kev, Kev, Kev, what wrong with you - have you a death wish? Calling Susan and Lu Beth a Yankee, could prove to be a very big mistake!!

Looking forward to "tomorrow's" report, although it means I need to get typing mine!
 
I was just reading along, thinking what a nice day my friends had, minding my own business, when all of a sudden things turned nasty. Who in heck are you calling a Yankee?! I thought you were my friend.

The south WILL rise again.:rolleyes:
 
Quote:
Originally Posted by SusanEllen
Who in heck are you calling a Yankee?!

Quote:
Originally Posted by Boss Hogg
Kev, Kev, Kev, what wrong with you - have you a death wish? Calling Susan and Lu Beth a Yankee, could prove to be a very big mistake!!

Thank you, Matt. It's good to have friends who understand.


The south WILL rise again.:rolleyes:

Tony, We thank you for your support.

Susan
 
I don't mind an early night ;) but it doesn't sound like southern hospitality to me:rotfl2:

Looks like Tam caught the sun! You all look far too brown now my tan's faded :mad:
 
I was just reading along, thinking what a nice day my friends had, minding my own business, when all of a sudden things turned nasty. Who in heck are you calling a Yankee?! I thought you were my friend.


This was meant in the generic way. To us Brits all you Americans are Yanks. :thumbsup2
I won't do it again, please don't make me drink moonshine.

Kev
 
I hope you managed to knock all that 'missing Matt' stuff out of poor Georgia, Kev! ;)

The beach looked good, the margerita's even better! Can't wait to read the next bit.......

(by the way, why did 'Ring of Fire' remind you of Deb??:confused3 ;) )
 
Funnily enough, I always name spiders Boris too.....

Great day, nice and relaxing before you head to Orlando.

Laur's princess:
 
This was meant in the generic way. To us Brits all you Americans are Yanks. :thumbsup2
I won't do it again, please don't make me drink moonshine.

Kev

I will tolerate an occasional use of "Okie" when you are referring to me as I've convinced myself that you are smiling as you say it. However, there's no way to hold your mouth as you call me "Yankee" to make that acceptable. I do have a little more moonshine secreted between bottles in the wine rack--and I'm not afraid to use it!
 
Thanks for your great report and thoughts about Hilton Head. It really does sound too quiet for us. I wonder why they don't have a lounge in the resort?


Susan
 
I do have a little more moonshine secreted between bottles in the wine rack--and I'm not afraid to use it!
Hold on thar pretty lady, you just be a holdin' on to that thar stash. We WILL make it to OK at some point, and a little tipple will suit me just fine! Just be careful to make sure it doesn't "eat" thru' the bottle!
 
Seems that a visit to trusty Wikipedia could have saved you some grief, Kev:

In the American South, the term is sometimes used as a derisive term for Northerners, especially those who have migrated to the South. As some Southerners put it, "A Yankee is a Northerner, and a Damnyankee [written and pronounced as one word] is a Northerner who moves (or comes) South". Southerners, by and large, resent being labeled "yankee" when travelling abroad.

In your defence:

In English-speaking countries outside the United States, especially in Australia, Canada, Ireland, New Zealand and the United Kingdom, Yankee, almost universally shortened to Yank, is used as a derogatory, playful or referential colloquial term for all Americans.
 















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