I know I haven't written in a while, but I've been busy and really uninspired, or at least with the amount of information I want to post for strangers on the internets. I figured I'd just write about St. Christopher's.  I'm here visiting Maggie, and I feel like I'm in Rwanda, you know, before the blood-letting. Lush green, mountains (really large, gorgeous mountains that get covered in clouds and fogs).  The island named for its discoverer (A man sent by the Catholic Kings of Spain to find a western-water route to the Indies), was the home of the first permanent British settlement in the Caribbean, after the fact that they killed the Native Americans on the island with the help of their French brethern. 

So far I've done a few things of note (or perhaps not): Surf and Turf, I've never had lobster before and the one I ate for dinner last night was huge. Maggie and I bought an entire liquor cabinet for less than $100 bucks and the island is a member of the Commonwealth, hence English speaking Kittitians, and Queen Elizabeth II young, and smiling on their money. 

Aside from that, not much else has gone on. WE hit the beach and shopping this afternoon and a historic tour of the island tomorrow. More to come...