Mrs. Quip, Little Quip and I just got back from vacation. We decided to fly down to the Turks & Caicos for the holiday weekend in an attempt to reclaim the islands for my family. I figured, with my name, they’d greet us at the airport like rock stars, we’d be driven to the largest house on the island and served like royalty.
Of course, it’s just my luck that the islands weren’t named after anyone named Turk. It turns out they were named for a cactus. So we got to stay in a decent, though not palatial hotel room, and dine with the commoners all week. Oh well.
Seriously, though. If you’re headed to the islands, you can skip Providenciales. The food was mediocre and the island had little to offer by way of entertainment. The beach and ocean were great, but not much better than you’d get on any other Caribbean island. For my money, St. Maarten was much better.
Now I’m back and ready to pontificate about life for the 5 or 6 loyal readers who find this blog slightly more interesting, and entirely less gruesome than a traffic accident. It’s good to be back.