| |
| |
| -- from the 8th to the 18th February 2012-- |
| |
|
The Grenadines... just the word has you fly to turquoise heavens where sky and sea melt into a universe of bright blue, only separated by the white line of some white-sand palm tree-fringed beach.
More images on our pages Pictures and Film. Please be cautious: some of the pictures might hurt sensitive eyes used to the European winter’s grey...
|
|
Sailed 214 miles
7871 miles since the start
|
|
|
|
| |
|
8th February: Hillsborough – Petit Saint Vincent (11M)
|
|
|
Today we’ll sail over to another country! But this will not be officially confirmed yet: the next customs office being located in Union, some miles further up our day’s destination of Petit Saint Vincent (aka “PSV”). This island lays just a couple of miles off Carriacou and barely a dinghy ride away from Petite Martinique (which belongs to Grenada). It seems that officials are exercising tolerance towards yachts stopping there for a night before checking in. As-a-matter-of-fact boats anchored there are flying any creative combination or Grenada, Saint Vincent, yellow (customs) and no flag – and no one cares!
|
|
Petit Saint Vincent, the island turned into a hotel
|
|
|
Looking forward to some good tacks close to the wind to start the day with, we hoist our newly reparated gib under a grey sky and pouring rain. That must be only one of those squalls so frequent around here, shouldn’t last for long... we wish! And the rain goes on and on, making the visibility just about good enough to progress into the lagoon. Here’s the anchorage, there are the catamarans, we pass along the line and go drop the anchor at the nearest of the beach. 3.5m, good sand: anchor dropped, chain spread, deck put in order and hop, quick quick inside before the next grey cloud arrives... For the whole of the afternoon water will fall from the sky – how good to be in the Caribbean’s when one could be in Holland! Only the sea is still bright blue under the heavy sky.
|
|
What’s the point of sailing all the way here if i trains like at home ?
|
Anyways, we are not allowed to go to shore on this private island – so, no regret !
|
|
Hey, here comes the sun! Quick in the water to have a better look at what’s under there. It’s white! Glowing white! Further towards the middle of the channel to Petite Martinique there’s a coral reef, but we give up on the exploration when swept away by a strong current there. Going back to the beach, we have a better look at the shore. The entire island has been turned into some posh beach resort for rich Americans, who seem to travel around only in small golf carts! The bar is supposed to be open to yachties if they ask nicely – the rest of the island is forbidden. Sadly for them, they couldn’t privatize the beach... from the water and the beach to the greener inside of the place, yachties and customers in equal numbers study each other.
Swimming back to the boat, we discover ourselves a bathtub! The tender has been filled with 35 liters of fresh water – perfect to rinse!
|
|
|
9th February : PSV – Clifton à Union (5M)
|
|
|
On the next morning the sky has turned blue, revealing new beauties of the surrounding landscape. We’re all the more grateful for some sun that we’re going to need and see the water and the grounds this morning, as we’re making our way through reefs and between two tiny sand patches called “Punaise” (=bedbug) and “Morpion” (=crab). It’s a bit narrow but with a map and a compass, we get clear and head towards Union.
|
|
From the bedbug...
|
... to the crab
|
|
|
In the middle of Clifton (Union’s harbor) there is a coral reef called “the roundabout”. Well, easy, you just have to round it – name says it all. The water is clear and the grounds easily visible. 6m deep, on a sand patch. Anchor down! This is when we finally meet one member of the species that plagues yachts’ anchorages in the Grenadines: the famous “Boat Boys”. Fellow sailors who have crossed earlier told everything about it in their blogs. They jump onto you while you’re in the middle of the most delicate maneuvers and block your way and want to sell you moorings, t-shirts, water, diesel, food, lobster, ganja... Yet the dreaded encounter is not quite as bad as expected: he offers a buoy, we say no and he vrooms away on his speedboat.
|
One boat boy and his engine 20 times more powerful than ours...
|
|
We are here mainly to clear in the state of Saint Vincent and the Grenadines and we don’t expect much more of this island. Good surprise: the water is incredibly blue and clear here, kitesurfers are riding in the small harbor contained in a coral reef, looking like flying between the tiny islets and the boats.
We get ashore on the beach (tenders can be moored at the Yacht club’s pontoon for a small fee as well). Small shops and tiny huts provide for your basic needs. Internet widely available in bars. Water though is scarce, often cut. Formalities are done in the tiny airport building, first the Customs (71 $EC for two people) then the Immigration. Stamp, stamp, click, cash – thank you and good bye. Done!
Now off we go, exploring the island. How dry it looks! Not a proper desert of course, most of the ground is covered with low green bushes. But no tree – cactus instead! We had almost forgotten how those weirdly shaped thorn-bearing plants look like since the Canarias. The landscape is rocky and abrupt, basalt is showing everywhere, clear sign of volcanic origin. The highest summit is only 300m high (too low to catch the clouds – hence the draught) and has a distinctive pointy shape. We climb up a smaller hill above the airport to the old fort. Centuries of French-English battles have left such small places with a couple of cannons scattered everywhere on the islands. From up there the view on the bay is stunning. Saltimbanque is there, seemingly flying on turquoise. It’s a good outlook on many other islands as well. Sailing around an archipelago is funny in that way: every time you climb a hill or round a cape you see another island, you can try and identify them all; it feels like moving on some giant map.
After a good while up there we go down to the Northern shore, much quieter and wind-beaten pristine beach backed by a mangrove. Then back to the city on the “highway” (as the nice old man put it, who spontaneously went out of his way to show us ours).
|
|
View onto the horbour, then Palm island and in the distance Petit Saint Vincent and Petite Martinique
|
|
|
At the end of this concrete track (and after meeting at least two vehicles), we reach Ashton. This little sleepy town lays on the same shore as Clifton, only a bit further West. It stayed out of the touristic development, stuck between the hills and a mangrove-fringed shallow water lagoon. Along the streets goats are grazing between small colorful creole houses with their white wooden lintel. By the water one local boat is moored at the pier. Further offshore the tall silhouette of Fregate Island shelters further yachts. A marina has been abandoned before it was finished – the works just had time to destroy the coral. We walk back to Clifton.
|
|
The bay in front of Ashton and Fregate Island
|
|
At night, the town gets a little animated trying to entertain tourists in a handful of bars and restaurants. We decide to celebrate our arrival into a new country (needed an excuse really!) and treat ourselves to a diner out in a place promisingly called “Lambi’s”. Lambis are big big shells (the ones where you’re supposed to hear the sea when you listen into it) – they taste like crabs! For our entertainment there was a steel-band playing. Abba and Bob Marley tunes played on tin cans and pans: it took a while to recognize! Steel bands are typical from the Caribbean’s where people used to play with anything that would make a noise, cooking gears mostly. But nowadays they have dedicated instruments, derived from cans, yet perfectly tuned.
The head still full of melodious bangs, we get up on the next morning to buy some basics before setting the sails to the smaller desert islands and their coral reefs.
|
|
Leaving Union
|
|
| |
| |
| TOP
|
| |
| |
|
10th February : Union – Mayreau (Salt Whistle Bay) (5M again)
|
|
|
This is a bright morning and we enjoy every minute of the 5 miles ride to our next stop on Mayreau Island. Navigation is easy under a blue sky: turquoise water = less than 10m deep; deeper blue = 10 to 20; brownish = careful, rocks! We pass by the main bay and head directly North to the smaller but cuter Salt Whistle Bay. Nice – and famous...
|
|
We love desert beaches...
|
... but we’re not the only ones (yet we’re the smallest, hence cutest !)
|
|
|
Saltimbanque has his small draft to thank for being able to pass between the bigger monohulls then by the catamarans and drop the anchor just 50m off the beach – 2m deep, perfect smooth sand! That way no one will come before us and drift into us dragging their anchor. We’re by far the smallest boat of the place. Well hidden amongst the big chartered plastic cats perhaps, as none of the many “boat boys” buzzing around ever bothered talking to us :o) In front of us a narrow sand bank planted with palm trees shelters the bay from the swell – not from the wind! It’s nice here, we can watch the pelicans fishing in the ocean waves from the deck. The show awaiting us under the water is even greater: what beautiful fishes! Then in the setting sun we climb up the hill to pay a visit to the famous church of Mayreau. A lovely stone building with a wooden ceiling – and a stunning overview onto the Tobago Cays. “Hey, it looks quite nice over there as well, shall we go?” “Yes, we will! Tomorrow we go”.
|
The little church up the hill of Mayreau
|
|
|
The next night was not nearly as good as we expected. Despite our 25m of chain and our anchor hooked in the sand, we won’t sleep that well in the strong wind gusts. Are we going to drift and crash like a mosquito in the windshield of the huuuuge catamaran behind us?
|
|
|
| |
|
11th February : Mayreau – Canouan (8M, that’s a hard day !)
|
|
Just out of the bay around the Northern point of Mayreau, Saltimbanque starts dancing on the waves. He has a light canvas on today (2 reefs and the gib). But the wind has not gotten stronger, a good 25kts... no Tobago Cays for us today :o( Instead we change course and hide in the leeside of the next island to the North, Canouan. We’ll wait for tomorrow and a predicted calmer weather to risk the hull in narrow shallow unsheltered places.
The sea is rough and we sail 8 miles close to the wind, rinsed by the spray – and instantly dried by the sun. Quite happy to reach the large bay of Charleston before noon. Yet the wind is not less there, it comes only from varying directions, running down the mountain. But by now we’re getting used to anchoring close to the shore. We observe the gusts and notice that in one spot on the Northern side of the beach, 100m from the shore, the water remains flat and protected from gusts sweeping the bay. That’s a perfect spot: 3.5m deep on a sand ground, 30m chain... how relaxing not to hear the wind whistling any more! It must be off peak hours, as the boat boys ride around idle and come to us in the end. The first one offers a buoy (hey man, we’ve been swinging on our anchor for 45 min already, you’re a bit late...), the second asks where are our husbands (grrrrr! That one I would have killed, if only verbally, if I didn’t know better than getting into trouble with locals).
|
|
« I’d like a room with a view please »
|
|
In the afternoon we moor the dinghy by the Tamarrind Hotel pontoon. It seems like a local custom on all those islands: hotel resorts bought the land by all the nice beaches :o( and they built there pontoons that we use :o) The hotel and the Moorings Yacht rental office (Yeepee, rental cats, our friends!) set aside, there’s nothing much on the island: one small so-called “airport”, a couple of hundreds inhabitants clustered in one compact town around a large cricket field (after centuries of battles, the English won the last round), a few goats and two cannons on the top of the hill. The Western shore is closed by a long reef creating an incredibly beautiful lagoon called “the Pool”, so turquoise that every yachtman dreams of dropping his anchor – and so shallow that he’s scared of putting his keel.
Further North the road is suddenly cut, blocked by a locked door: private, hotel resort. Behind the grid you see the huts typically new-creole kitsch age they built ON the lagoon. How nice.
This is frustrating. We head back for the boat and pay a visit to the fish instead. During the night some wind gusts will blow so far as to reach our sheltered anchorage. But nothing big: tomorrow we go!
|
|
| |
| |
| TOP
|
| |
| |
|
12th-13th February : Canouan – Tobago Cayes (9M, it is been no easy ride...)
|
|
Yeepee we’re sailing to the famous Tobago Cayes today, the gem of the Grenadines!
At least, that’s the plan... but when we turn the engine on it coughs, smokes, chokes and refuses to give any power. Worse even, we feel some electric shock in the gas- handle! Ouch, electric leak not good on an aluminum hull! Engine cage open, the faulty wire is quickly identified and bandaged in tape and a plastic spiral cut out of a water hose. Second try: cough cough again. Some smoke comes out of the air filter. Okay, let’s take it out and clean it – that was needed! It’s getting better now, but still smoking and choking... clueless we decide to try to have it run a bit longer in open water (instead of on the anchor). If something is wrong, we’ll go to Bequia. Luckily after a while, the noise becomes more regular. All sails up please, straight to the lagoon! The gib is hoisted, only to fall back on the deck with a snapping sound: the front stays is broken, the foot manille flew away. This day is not starting well... and here we are kneeling on a wet moving deck to reach at the bottom of anchor-tub and screw a new manille back in. The Tobago Cayes, you have to deserve them!
|
|
Always 1.5m water under the keel – that’s perfect !
|
Further everything goes smoothly and Saltimbanque enters the long-desired lagoon around noon. Engine on and smoke free, that’s a relief! We sail passed Petit Bateau and Petit Rameau to join the biggest anchorage by Barradal. We look for a clear spot on the ground (= sand) amongst the catamarans (= shallow waters). Anchor down. While we’re maneuvering we see many turtles around the boat, coming to the surface to breathe! They’re big!
|
|
Step one: anchor down in 2.5m water – it holds. Step two: clear the deck and cockpit of all the mess from sailing – check. Three: in the water! Let’s see those turtles! No need to rush actually, they are everywhere around here, grazing on the grass grounds just like a big hurdle of cows. They’re such peaceful, placid animals. We swim so close that we could almost touch them. Elegant and calm, they don’t seem to mind that much... Some bigger ones have suckerfish on their back, cleaning them from algae. At times, they look at us in the eyes, with a friendly, unimpressed look, just as we pass by them...magical!
We will go back and swim to the same place (just in the anchorage, by the Barradal island) twice. But we will not see so many turtles as the first time. They have their routine, grazing mostly between 9am and noon. Earlier in the morning, the place belongs to rays! Once we will see a dozen of them, one “leopard” with white dots and a clearly defined head handing with a big nose and a wide mouth which looks like it’s smiling all the time. The majority of the rays though were stingray, grey and flatter. Turtles and rays share the territory with lambi’s, those delicious snail-like shells, pink and yummy – they are protected in this natural reserve.
|
Hey there!
|
|
Every animal has its hour : the turtle...
|
... and the ray don’t mix
|
|
|
Of course the best snorkeling spot would be the coral reef that closes and protects the lagoon. It’s easier to reach it by dinghy, and leave the dinghy tied on a small buoy installed there for that purpose (to avoid anchors damaging the coral). On the lagoon side, the water is shallow and crystal clear, sun rays hitting the white sand makes the bright colors of the coral and fish even brighter, almost eye-hurting. Many smaller fishes bustle around rocks and coral, frenetically swimming in all directions, always moving so as not to be sucked away by the current and the waves that are breaking on the shallower parts. The waves are breaking all along the reef and there is never more than 30 cm water. Yet to reach the other side, one has to swim in it, keeping the direction, every muscle tensed so as to avoid the rocks. It’s a noisy mess of white foam and waves. Suddenly, silence: you’re on the other side, the ocean side! Everything is quiet and grand. It’s a Deep Blue, the World of Silence. Bands of bigger fish swim by indolently. A few barracuda’s are watching them (as they’re watching this weird creature with plastic palms – not so reassured). The coral forms a big wall gently rising from the 10m deep grounds in one smooth slope up to the surface. In creaks and behind colorful rocks bright fishes are playing hide-and-seek. There are too many shapes and colors to try and identify them all. Of course parrot fish is easier to recognize. Also “balloon” fish, inflating and bristling with spikes when scared. Deep night blue fish in numerous bands are curious and swim close to the mask of the snorkeler that lingers at the bottom. So many different submarine landscapes attracting so much sea-life!
|
|
Reef
|
Ocean
|
|
In the Tobago Cayes you find 4 desert islands inside the reef (t-shirts and BBQ vendors don’t count): Petit Bateau, Petit Rameau, Barradal et Jamesby. Barradal is the closest, easy to reach swimming, with a popular family beach. We spent more time on Petit Bateau though. This smallest beach there is quiet and leads to a patch to the top of the hill. Some climbing through thorn trees further you’re rewarded with a stunning view on the anchorage and on the other islands. On the way back down we wake up a big iguana napping on a branch. It stares at us, first blankly, then suddenly it looks scared... a bigger iguana yet is emerging from behind the bushes, dancing some intimidation dance to make clear who’s the boss. And off they run into the bushes again, with a noise of some prehistoric battle. The bigger beach of Petit Bateau faces the next island, Petit Rameau, just across a narrow channel marking the entrance to the lagoon. The anchorage there is just splendid, but even windier than in the rest of the places because the wind gets accelerated between the islands.
To close this description, let’s talk about the people moving in that space. First, the locals. Most of them are “boat boys” buzzing around big yachts. Here again, no trouble to us: they’ve got bigger fish to catch. Only one rasta-guy selling t-shirts stayed around and approached us, mostly to chat and ask about the crossing etc! The Tobago Cayes being a Natural Park, it is protected by Rangers on regular patrols. They come and collect the anchorage fee (10 EC p.p. per day). They seem to come more by the bigger rental catamarans though and “forget” the smaller yachts sometimes. We paid only one out of two nights.
|
|
A view on Petit Tabac – and Saltimbanque !
|
On Petit Bateau Beach
|
|
|
Pour finir ce tableau, il nous faut parler des habitants des lieux. Tout d’abord les autochtones. La plupart sont « boat boys » et font du commerce avec les voiliers de passage. Là encore nous serons assez tranquilles, on imagine que l’aspect baroudeur de Saltimbanque les décourage de vouloir nous vendre une langouste hors de prix. Un seul viendra essayer de nous vendre un T-shirt, mais finalement voulait surtout discuter, demander comment c’était de traverser l’Atlantique, et passer quelques minutes sympathiques avec nous ! Les Rangers circulent également sur le lagon. Les Tobagos sont classés parc naturel et le mouillage y est payant (10 EC par personne et par jour). Il parait qu’ils s’acharnent sur les bateaux de charter (qui sont souvent 10 à 12 personnes à bord) et « oublient » souvent les bateaux de voyage moins rentables (en effet nous n’avons payé qu’une nuit sur les deux).
|
|
From Barradal
|
And finally there are the other yachts. Around 60 boats in total when we were there, including one ketch about 50m long! Maybe one third of the fleet was monohulls. Not more than 5 sailing boats on a long trip. Nothing against rental boats, but we trust them less when it comes to anchoring and maneuvering. They‘re just less experienced. Rented 25 tons catamarans with a skipper is not always a guarantee... Like that one, a proud native of the Grenadines, who had his chain 5 m away from our anchor, with the risk of getting it stuck there and just removing our anchor, sending us adrift... It’ll take two kind requests and the intervention of his American clients to have him move. Maybe they thought we would sue them? Anyways that was the odd example, but most people are just fine and everybody gets to enjoy this fabulous place!
|
|
| |
| |
| TOP
|
| |
| |
|
14th February : Tobago Cays – Bequia (34 M, back to real things)
|
|
|
Nothing better than a swim in turquoise waters before breakfast! Then we set the sails, off to Bequia. There’s a good little breeze, we hoist the main sail before hailing the anchor back and sail all the way out of the channel and the lagoon – less engine, more style! The route to Bequia is all about tacking close to the wind again, of course. After a good day on the water we enter into the Admiralty Bay. No point in counting the yachts anchored there – just too many! The bay is wide and green, beautiful colors in the lowering sun. We pass by some “mega yachts” again, dwarfing the local cargo ships :oS
|
|
Admiralty Bay : this is a well sheltered bay - and known for it!
|
|
|
We get closer to the Southern shore and drop the anchor off the beach in Princess Bay. The holding is not so good in the hard sand and some garbage is scattered on some grass patches. Better to check the anchor... the beach is beautiful and there is supposed to be a wifi in a bar nearby but we can’t confirm – stayed onboard in anti-social mood tonight. Exception though for our American neighbors... surprise surprise, we recognize the beautiful “Norna”, this friendly wooden boat where we had such a good time playing music one night in La Gomera. That’s a nice feeling, seeing familiar faces and ships again, catching up with people we met on the other side, before the crossing. A bit like home-coming to the family, after being lost in the crowd of the rental boats.
|
|
|
| |
|
15th February : Petit Nevis (19 M, tout ça pour ça...)
|
|
|
Petit Nevis is a desert island located South of Bequia. For a long time it has been the headquarters of the whaling fleet. Our guide says some huts and tools can still be found there, that served for the butchering and processing of the whales. And whale bones.
|
|
On Petit Nevis only goats welcome the visitor
|
Sounds good, we should go have a look! The weather forecast is perfect: 4-5 bft North-East. Never believe the weather forecast: as soon as we sail out of the bay, we realize that the wind is much stronger. In the South of the island we tack in 6 bft, luckily the current (against us as the general current is this area brings to the West, especially in the channels between the islands) is somehow weakened by the tidal stream. Getting closer to Petit Nevis we start looking for the anchorage. It’s tiny, just off what’s left of a destroyed pier. The windswept place offers good holding on sand grounds by 4-5m. Not clear where you can land a dinghy though. We swim to shore. The visit is disappointing: no hut, no cauldron, no whale bone...and definitely more garbage than one would wish to see on a desert island! From the top of the hill we enjoy a very nice view on... a big squall that’s coming right to us :-S
Actually the best sight of the day lies under the water once more: the reef next to the anchorage is colorful and lively.
|
|
|
Back onboard: it rains, blows, drizzles... we head back to Bequia for the night. The wind is anything but weaker and we have to take the third reef to pass the point (wind gusts are often stronger at the capes, as they get accelerated by cliffs and peaks). This time we sail on the Northern side of the bay, closer to the town center. It seems to be the area where travelling yachts gather, as the other side is full withy moorings. We look for a suitable anchoring spot. The ground is irregular, dropping abruptly from 2 to 10m. Mainly hard sand, some grass patches. Here again checking the anchor is advisable, it might not hold well on this hard soil covered with a thin layer of sand. The evening is spent onboard, watching for strong squalls, relieved to see they we don’t move. Dinghies can be moored to a couple of pontoons by the main road. All kind of services are widely available here – including laundry, water, diesel and ice brought to you on special boats: they even have flyers to advertise!
|
Those clouds are coming for us
|
|
|
|
Today is a working day, no time for fun: checking out by the customs, buying food, checking the weather, preparing the boat and getting to bed early to rest before the longer trip that will take us to Martinique. We are allowed to a short break at the end of the afternoon, to climb up the hill and admire the view from the fort in the sunset.
Such was the plan... until we stopped by another cute little boat anchored in the middle of the bay. Grey and yellow Super Arlequin called “Ding Dingue”, looking like a friendly travelling boat as well. We greet the couple onboard: Delphine and Mathieu left Brittany 2 years ago and are now sailing around, without a fixed deadline, maybe until the Pacific who knows? It’s nice to meet other young people on the road and we meet again at night for drinks onboard. Very nice – and many! – drinks in joyful company!
|
|
| |
| |
| TOP
|
| |
| |
|
17th-18th February : Bequia – Le Marin in Martinique (123 M)
|
|
After this good night rest we’re ready to leave at 6am... or 7... finally 8am. It’s a beautiful day, the trade winds are softer those days, 3-4 instead of their usual 5-6. Our intention is to keep on the windward of the islands of St Vincent and Santa Lucia to avoid the gusts and calms on their leeside.
Yet once out of the channel and on the East of Saint Vincent, the wind has dropped so much that the sails hang helpless and we have to turn the engine on to power the boat over the short swell. Motorsailing along this bare and inhospitable coast is not a bad experience – if you don’t think that the wind and currents would wreck you on the shore should the engine fail. Passed the Northern Point we find ourselves in the channel between St Vincent and Santa Lucia where a veering wind leaves us no hesitation: we bear off and leap to the leeside of the next island.
|
|
Passing Saint Vincent on its leeside
|
|
|
That’s a good choice! In the channel the Venturi effect accelerates the wind enough to turn Nestor off to sleep again. Then along the island the sea is flatter (oceanic swell cut by the land) and less wind is enough. During the night we pass the famous twin peaks, those giant sugarloaf-shaped rocks represented on the national flag. We shall never see them otherwise than as a dark shadow contrasting from the lights. Reaching the North of Santa Lucia the wind increases a bit and we take a reef before setting on our last tack onto the Martinique. We reach this island by the famous “Diamond” rock, once used as a cannon base by the English Navy to shoot at the French (and dubbed “HMS Diamond” since then).
|
|
Arriving to Martinique, and the Diamond Rock
|
|
The last miles are always the longest and we tack for a few more hours to reach the “cul-de-sac du Marin” in the middle of a regatta where we recognize many boats from the “Transquadra” (this is a race from Madeira to Martinique on small monohulls).
The bay is absolutely crowded with boats: around 600 yachts are moored in the marina, another 200 or so have a buoy... and several further hundreds just swing about on their anchor. Never seen so many boats in our life! Where is a space for us? We spend a long while crossing in the bay and watching around for a good ground, clear from buoys, close to the shore etc etc (as we plan to stay here for a small week)... in the end we opt for a spot along the channel to the marina, just behind the official moorings. 7m deep, soft mud ground. Despite our lack of confidence in this device, we use a buoy rope to make sure we can come back to the anchor if necessary (actually that rope will cause problems a few days later because a big catamaran dragging their anchor will pull it and cause Saltimbanque to drift as well... in the middle of the night...).
|
|
Le Marin : never seen so many boats in one place !
|
|
|
And here we are, back to our home country... under the palm trees!
|
|
| |
| |
| TOP
|
| |
| |
|
|
|
|
|
