mardi gras madness

Last wednesday was Mardi Gras at Kaibo. It's taken me this long to write this post because it's taken this long to recover!! The revelry started at about midday when we met at a Scott's house and boarded his boat for the ride over to Kaibo, which entails a 20 min or so journey across the North Sound. The boat was cheerfully festooned with beads. Fleur and I optimistically filled our champagne cups and took up our places in the sun at the front of the boat. It was a lovely day and having just met, we were chattering away, enjoying sipping our champagne in the sun while the boat motored out through the canals at just 5mph (Fleur pictured with Chris above). Then the fun began: Scott gunned the (very powerful) boat forward into the choppy North Sound to the sounds of the boys' laughter as Fleur and I struggled unsuccessfully to keep the champagne in the cups as the hull of the boat smacked up and down against the swell. At some point Fleur managed to shout a protest to Scott to slow down so we could take a sip. Wrong thing to do! Scott stopped the boat completely and the boys nearly fell off laughing as a HUGE wave sloshed over the bow drenching both of us. So much for putting make-up on and trying to look cool! Needless to say we moved to the rear of the boat for the rest of the journey to Kaibo.

The party was just beginning when we arrived and docked the boat in the last slot in Kaibo's Marina (pictured above). Everyone else was still sitting on their boats, chilling with beers, music pumping, or visiting other boats. We eventually made our way up the stairs to the VIP area, where you definitely want to be, because this means you get the beads. You are a HAVE.

This is where is all got very surreal. A fantastic jazz band was playing onstage, but everyone down below was facing the VIP balcony. That's because they were HAVE NOTS. They had no beads! They shouted up and held their hands emploringly to the balcony for the HAVES to throw beads down to them (pictured above). Had the little bits of plastic not been simply that, something no-one would have bothered a second about any other day, this would have seemed immoral. However, once I got my head around it, the whole practice turned out to be vastly entertaining. You could spot some lithe and ripped bodies and aim your throw right at them, then watch as they jumped up, muscles rippling, to catch your handout. The boys had fun too, forcing girls desperate for the gold, purple and green beads to show their wares for the donation! (later, Courtney told me she had seen girls in New Orleans give head for beads!).

The crowds kept coming as the sun set, and the music pumped. We wandered downstairs, through the have-nots, all the way to the champagne tent, which required a VIP pass and was therefore for the Haves only. Unless the have-nots knew the bouncers, which many of them did, since cayman is a very small and generally peaceful place. So Courtney, Isy and I (pictured above less than sober) bought a bottle of champagne and talked nonsense to the president of the rugby club, who was genuinely delighted that CK and I are not averse to a little noise (the rugby club is opposite our house and receives regular complaints from a number of the neighbours). But I digress, or perhaps its just that in the retelling, my brain is echoing the fog that started to creep in as it is wont to do after several hours of drinking.

Back upstairs again and the James Bond Casino Royale theme was in full swing at the Blackjack tables. Only by this time, the adults, bored with the lack of opportunity to win anything (gambling is illegal in Cayman), had given up and left the tables to the kids (pictured above), who seemed to be learning the art of Blackjack pretty quickly for kids in a country where gambling is not allowed!

More vodka tonics ensued, until the bar ran out of tonic. We drifted downstairs again and danced in the sand in front of the stage. We talked nonsense for hours. We eventually made it home, although this part of the story becomes extremely sketchy for me. Nevertheless, my apetite has been whetted and I'm already planning Mardi Gras in New Orleans next year. Perhaps I will have fully recovered by then.