Sojourn of a (Dysfunctional) Black Man: Witty title for a blog about St Lucia

Now, here's my blog from St Lucia. Words are good.
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Fuck, it’s hot. I’m sweating out of orifices I didn’t even know existed. And if I did know they existed, I’m glad they now have a use. We’re now in St Lucia and I don’t recall sweating this much or seeing someone sweat this much since…(the audience waits eagerly in anticipation. What humorous metaphor, comparison or pop-culture reference will Gruthdog use? Will he use the old “paedophile in a primary school” line?; will it be a reference to genitalia? Will it be a reference to a particular uni lecturer with whom only half the blog readers will be familiar, yet the other half will chuckle in spite of it being a private joke, and subsequently have to awkwardly retract their mistaken laughter?)…ummm, I’ll leave it at that.

Apparently St. Lucia is the honeymoon capital of the world.I can see why. In terms of touristy-type activities and sight-seeing, St Lucia has it covered. Waterfalls, canopies, rainforests, volcanoes, mineral baths and springs, rum distilleries, brothels, washed-up celebrities in hiding, you name it!

The Pitons.

How to take a photo of a busker without leaving a cent. Stingy.

Dunny getting fed by a tourist.

As with most the islands, the most logical way to see most of the sights is to take an island tour. So we did. The sulphur springs in Souphreite (I can't remember how to spell it and don't have my st Lucia book on me. Well, I do, but it's in my dirty underwear bag. And I wet the bed last night) were probably the highlight of the tour as they’re located in the crater of an active-ish volcano. Although the last time it actually erupted was around 10,000 years ago (just like Wilson), it is still considered active. On the tour, and despite not actually visiting this particular island attraction, I developed a new obsession: the flying fox. My love affair with this contraption began in Antigua, where we were staying on the beach at the bottom of a valley, with a popular nightclub located on the cliff face overlooking the valley and coastline. I concluded that it would be far more efficient to travel home by flying fox over jagged rocks and gigantic palm trees after a night on the booze, as opposed to the more common road taxi. And free too. I can see it now – Haydn Scarr catching the flying fox from George St in the city down to Northies in the Shire, just to save a couple bucks.

Our tour guide takes revenge on Mick. Perhaps for the centuries of black persecution?

Advertising. Art director. Me.

Diamond Falls.

Diamond Falls. The team.

Sulphur Springs in the crater face of the volcano.

We also managed to cross paths with Ben Barnett and posse on several occasions in St Lucia, including one rather large night (involving around an hour of loitering outside a Shaggy-headlined music festival), which, once again, preceded a day of sight-seeing. On the aforementioned night on the town, I was approached by a typical ganja dealer. After declining his kind offers, he then offered his services as a fortune-teller. Curiously, I handed him the nominal $5 and proceeded to hear about how I must be careful of who I marry and that my chosen career path is doomed. I have a feeling that if I had bought some weed from him, my fortune would’ve read slightly more positively.

With Jordy and Ben Barnett and Dunny at Cave Bar. It's battle of the fringes. Howie - I appoint you the judge.

I'm wearing a funny hat. Now, laugh.

I just though it was funny that they named a flower after Jamie Durie

Mmmmm. Canopies. Not to be mistaken for canapes. Oooh pretentious.

I also had the privilege of watching around 400 budgie-smuggler clad Aussies in the party stand for the semi final. It was horrendous. Even some of the locals were questioning what they had done to deserve this. Admittedly, when a handful of Aussies invaded the playing field during the break, none of them were game enough to remove the budgie smugglers; presumably for fear of humiliating themselves when revealing their stereotypically white ‘belongings’ amidst a black community.