Author – Grant
Based In – Dauphine Island, Alabama
Today’s Photos – http://www.flickr.com/photos/32017704@N03/sets/72157613550409191/
Some days it is really apparent that we are on holiday and today was one of them. I woke up and ran through today’s itinerary in my head. 1) Treasure Hunt. 2) Play Golf followed by beers in the sun. 3) Read / Snooze. 4) Dinner. 5) Pub for some Alabama Karaoke. Yep, today wasn’t going to be too stressful at all.
Kate’s Treasure Hunt was, I have to say, excellent. I only needed help with one of the clues (something about botanical footwear), it encompassed running or cycling around the majority of the island and, crucially, it ended with sticky buns at the excellent Lighthouse Bakery. Pure genius and she is available to arrange your next Treasure Hunt for an appropriately inflated fee. I think I have to return the favour now but I won’t be so kind as the clues I give her will involve much more humiliating tasks to perform but that will have to wait for another venue as her hunt already encompassed all five points of interest on Dauphine Island.
Next up was the golf where Kate, surprisi
ngly, volunteered to come round as a spectator as long as she could drive the buggy. I didn’t tell her that such privileges come with caddy responsibilities (removing the flag, helping with club selection etc) which meant that the book and magazine that she brought along never saw the light of day thanks to a largely empty course. I have played a total of one round in the past two years so I purposely didn’t bother scoring myself as I can’t count much past 100 but I didn’t play too badly thanks largely to leaving my driver in its protective sock for the majority of the round. Maybe it was having a caddy that helped? Even if it was, I’m still not sure I would repeat the experience as the golf cart chat was definitely the tamest I have ever had with not a single mention of ranking the members of the Pussycat Dolls based solely on implant quality.
Dinner was a pretty disappointing affair at Flamingo Fae’s which is attached to the golf club. Our waitress had the memory of a fish with Alzheimer’s and managed to bugger up something in every aspect of the meal. We started with a mass pincer graveyard’s worth of fried mini crab claws which lost a good deal of their crabbyness through the frying process resulting in
the need for pints of cocktail and tartar sauces. My main was a soggy and unseasoned bit of pan-fried grouper that was made almondine by the half pound of sautéed almonds it came buried under. Kate’s dozen shrimp were flavourful enough but, again, just looked wet. Add a couple of beers and the experience cost about $80 so I felt a bit robbed. Nothing a bit of Alabaman Karaoke couldn’t sort out though…
So after eating at THE restaurant on Dauphine island, we headed to THE pub…it was Saturday night after all. It’s hard to classify this place so I won’t even try but the dominance of “Snow Birds” (the elderly that flock here in the hope that the sun will cure all their woes) was overwhelming. For the second night in three we witnessed another inappropriate, grinding grandma who was also the only person taking advantage of th
e karaoke machine as she belted out Patsy Cline hit after hit with that rare quality of unfounded confidence. Being partial to a bit of drunken warbling, I was hoping that more people would get up but it wasn’t until the late arrival of a group of hip-hop loving kids took over somewhere around 11pm that anyone else got a shot and once the young stuff started, no amount of rum would get me up there despite challenging myself to sing Village People’s Macho Man which, in Alabama, is tantamount to suicide.
We haven’t seen enough of Alabama to make sweeping judgements about the place but that isn’t going to stop me. One bloke I talked with in the bar summed it up pretty well by saying that the state has a terrible reputation and falls bottom of most of the various US lists but you’ll be hard pressed to meet someone here who isn’t friendly. Whilst his point was good, he did then go on to highlight it’s Achilles Heal as he thought we wouldn’t like New Orleans because it is “mixed” (he meant racially just in case you didn’t pick up on that) and then he went a bit weird telling me he only went out once every 3 or 4 months and that most of his friends had either left Dauphine Island or were dead. Not the cheeriest end to an otherwise highly entertaining night.
Based In – Dauphine Island, Alabama
Today’s Photos – http://www.flickr.com/photos/32017704@N03/sets/72157613550409191/
Some days it is really apparent that we are on holiday and today was one of them. I woke up and ran through today’s itinerary in my head. 1) Treasure Hunt. 2) Play Golf followed by beers in the sun. 3) Read / Snooze. 4) Dinner. 5) Pub for some Alabama Karaoke. Yep, today wasn’t going to be too stressful at all.
Kate’s Treasure Hunt was, I have to say, excellent. I only needed help with one of the clues (something about botanical footwear), it encompassed running or cycling around the majority of the island and, crucially, it ended with sticky buns at the excellent Lighthouse Bakery. Pure genius and she is available to arrange your next Treasure Hunt for an appropriately inflated fee. I think I have to return the favour now but I won’t be so kind as the clues I give her will involve much more humiliating tasks to perform but that will have to wait for another venue as her hunt already encompassed all five points of interest on Dauphine Island.
Next up was the golf where Kate, surprisi
ngly, volunteered to come round as a spectator as long as she could drive the buggy. I didn’t tell her that such privileges come with caddy responsibilities (removing the flag, helping with club selection etc) which meant that the book and magazine that she brought along never saw the light of day thanks to a largely empty course. I have played a total of one round in the past two years so I purposely didn’t bother scoring myself as I can’t count much past 100 but I didn’t play too badly thanks largely to leaving my driver in its protective sock for the majority of the round. Maybe it was having a caddy that helped? Even if it was, I’m still not sure I would repeat the experience as the golf cart chat was definitely the tamest I have ever had with not a single mention of ranking the members of the Pussycat Dolls based solely on implant quality.Dinner was a pretty disappointing affair at Flamingo Fae’s which is attached to the golf club. Our waitress had the memory of a fish with Alzheimer’s and managed to bugger up something in every aspect of the meal. We started with a mass pincer graveyard’s worth of fried mini crab claws which lost a good deal of their crabbyness through the frying process resulting in
the need for pints of cocktail and tartar sauces. My main was a soggy and unseasoned bit of pan-fried grouper that was made almondine by the half pound of sautéed almonds it came buried under. Kate’s dozen shrimp were flavourful enough but, again, just looked wet. Add a couple of beers and the experience cost about $80 so I felt a bit robbed. Nothing a bit of Alabaman Karaoke couldn’t sort out though…So after eating at THE restaurant on Dauphine island, we headed to THE pub…it was Saturday night after all. It’s hard to classify this place so I won’t even try but the dominance of “Snow Birds” (the elderly that flock here in the hope that the sun will cure all their woes) was overwhelming. For the second night in three we witnessed another inappropriate, grinding grandma who was also the only person taking advantage of th
e karaoke machine as she belted out Patsy Cline hit after hit with that rare quality of unfounded confidence. Being partial to a bit of drunken warbling, I was hoping that more people would get up but it wasn’t until the late arrival of a group of hip-hop loving kids took over somewhere around 11pm that anyone else got a shot and once the young stuff started, no amount of rum would get me up there despite challenging myself to sing Village People’s Macho Man which, in Alabama, is tantamount to suicide.We haven’t seen enough of Alabama to make sweeping judgements about the place but that isn’t going to stop me. One bloke I talked with in the bar summed it up pretty well by saying that the state has a terrible reputation and falls bottom of most of the various US lists but you’ll be hard pressed to meet someone here who isn’t friendly. Whilst his point was good, he did then go on to highlight it’s Achilles Heal as he thought we wouldn’t like New Orleans because it is “mixed” (he meant racially just in case you didn’t pick up on that) and then he went a bit weird telling me he only went out once every 3 or 4 months and that most of his friends had either left Dauphine Island or were dead. Not the cheeriest end to an otherwise highly entertaining night.
Tomorrow is another idyllic day on the island with stressful things on the itinerary like walking Molly, eating BBQ and flying the kite that we have carried round for 3 months but never unfurled. Sundays can be exhausting.
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