life of lia
Lia Ditton makes a long awaited reappearance on SA!
A little hung over, a little sleep deprived, I suppressed a laugh while waiting for security clearance at SXM airport. Memory of the flattened trophy had sprung to mind, which initially when I heard about it was somewhat perplexing, shocking even. Now it was outright hilarious! Our third place tankard had inadvertently made its way under a car right before the Heineken Wailers concert. There was a pause apparently as the wheel rode up over it, a delicious ‘pop,’ before a beautiful silver sculpture was revealed!
‘What would you like to drink, maam?’ the stewardess inquired in my direction.
‘Water please, just water.’ I replied.
Leaning across to receive the plastic cup and serviette, I was relieved that my left under arm muscle was back to being fully functional, after I had braked with a jerk on Wednesday, zip lining. With a 6ft something Rasta who went by the name of ‘Birdman’ as our guide, we had descended the altitude of St. Maarten ripping down wires, wahoo-ing our way from one tree post to the next, flying over steep banked foliage as we went. After two hours, Gunboat team Safari, whose members were subsequently known as Bird Boy, Bird Bird (me) and Big Bird made it in tact to the tapas cafe at the bottom. A cracking sailing team was formed!