Sunday, October 23, 2011

Goombay 2


Goombay is the Bahamian street fair which is celebrated the weekend before the Fantasy Fest Bacchanalia gets serious. Goombay is food and music and a gentle stroll down a few blocks of Petronia Street through the heart of Bahama Village.The vendors sell food but also more or less alluring lines of patter.


We made a date to come by and get some curried goat stew when it was ready at the Blue Heaven stall.


I was going to work at six, for what turned out to be an incredibly hard night of dispatching. I was on the main police channel all night and I got my ass handed to me from 6pm till 5:45 in the morning. I went home shattered by endless calls for service and a night that seemed like it would never end. I should have had some cold beer to fortify me for the rigors ahead...


Goombay is about hanging out with friends...


...though I left my best friend at home as Cheyenne doesn't cope well with crowds.


I saw this guy having a tropical good time so I asked to take his picture. "Mais oui he said.


She wanted hers taken too. It turned out they were Frogs so I deferred to the Francophone Chuck.


He walked and talked and discovered Key West will soon be home to a new French café, to be called Frenchy's on United Street.


My wife met one of her pupils much to the student's surprise. Thats the joy of small town schooling. "Hi miss, meet my boyfriend!" Erk. It's not easy for me either as I have to struggle to remember not to say fuck or make some inappropriate joke about one of those many things adults think their iPhone toting offspring have never heard of.


Funnily enough we didn't meet other friends on our stroll. Perhaps that contributed to my sense of sparser attendance this year. Buffalo Bill from Up North was conspicuous by his absence but he had thought that might have been the case
When we met last year. Goldman Sachs has a lot to answer for, one way and another.


The tourist attractions were out to see and be seen, wild chickens chasing scraps and the extra loud Mr Chapman on his music box tricycle.


I could no more stand in the street with a hula hoop than I could ride a tricycle making loud noise. I prefer to hide behind my camera and pretend I am visiting from St Louis. "Gee," I overheard the genuine article say to his wife, "Key West is weird." Just keep tipping, would be my advice.


The goat stew wasn't ready yet. Soon...


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