The next day we decided to do a little sightseeing on our way to Shoal Bay East.
Translation: I'm going to chase around a bunch of goats and buy $300 worth of Anguilla magnets on our way to Shoal Bay East.
Raise your hand if you thought it was the goat...
Our first stop was at Irie Life, a brightly-colored shop overlooking Sandy Ground.
Here, we loaded up on t-shirts, key chains, license plates, bumper stickers, magnets, and baseball caps. I get the feeling that if Irie Life sold used gum wrappers with the letters "AXA" stamped on them, we'd probably buy them, too.
Then it was off to the Sandy Ground roundabout for a combination rodeo/episode of "When Animals Attack."
At least they smiled pretty for the camera.
We passed through The Valley, then headed north toward Shoal Bay Village.
Only in Anguilla would we pull off to the side of the road in order to admire a chain-link fence studded with old license plates.
Our journey took us past Wallblake House, a former plantation whose sad history includes the use of slave labor to harvest sugar and cotton.
We also passed a few local churches, whose sad history includes keeping people from sleeping in on Sundays.
We decided on lunch at Elodia's, a colorful spot at the end of Shoal Bay near "the point."
The day was hot and humid, so we stuck to a quick lunch of turkey sandwiches at Elodia's, allowing us to maximize our soak time.
Of course, there are other ways to cool off, too.
Elodia's rum punches are quite tasty, and while ordering a second round Angel said as much to the bartender and asked what was in it. Her brown eyes sparkled and she smiled. "Oh, just a little bit o' sweet love!" she chuckled.
We hung around as the beach emptied, enjoying a last rum punch before Elodia's closed up shop.
If we'd had a little bit o' sweet love at Elodia's, we were in for a whole lot o' sweet love that evening for dinner.
Though I'm not sure "love" is a strong enough word to convey my feelings for the FBI cheeseburger.
It was Wing Night, but because I hate the smell of Tobasco, Angel is always kind enough to order his wings for dessert, so the smell won't interfere with my celebration of FBI Monday.
He even eats them at the bar so I can bask in the burger after-glow.
Not that he has any ulterior motives, of course.
Click here for Part 7!