Travelling incognito

Upon arriving at the airport in Bridgetown, Barbados, I noticed a sign informing visitors that camouflage is banned on the island.

I have concluded the reason must be one of the following:

1. The people of Barbados fear takeover by a camouflage-clad army of insurgents.
2. The country is populated by fervent hunters who may mistakenly shoot tourists disguised in camouflage.
3. Barbados has taken a firm stand against what is perhaps the most objectionable fashion trend of the decade.

Sand, surf and Cedric

Sometimes I am guilty of judging a gnome by his coveralls. Who woulda thunk that Cedric would have a most delightful time in Barbados?

Just because he's hundreds of years old, has a rather complex facial-hair schema and insists on wearing his little pointy hat at all times, doesn't mean he's not a surfer dude at heart.

Cedric frolicked with sea turtles, knocked back lime-flavoured rum dacquiris and gnawed on coconut, straight from (inside) the shell.

His only unfortunate encounter involved that bottle of Bajan hot sauce I happened to leave open. He will never mistake the stuff for maple syrup again. I really must teach him to read.