On Thursday I really started to feel like time was running out. I had seen some shops mentioned in a tourist brochure, so I’d been wanting to visit their respective shopping centers. A agreed to go with me, and we got up around 9:45 to head to breakfast. To our dismay, the International Restaurant was already closed, but they told us to go over to Spicer’s instead. I’d seen on the daily activity list that Spicer’s was open from 10am on, so I figured this would be fine, and we went back across the resort and up the long stairs. What did we find when we got there? No food! Apparently they wouldn’t actually open until noon. A and I were amazed that a resort that purports to be all-inclusive there’s a two-hour period when you can’t get any food. (The employees at Spicer’s suggested room service, which we of course couldn’t afford.) While we were trying to figure out what to do next, C showed up - he never eats breakfast anyway. A and I hadn’t put on sunblock for the day, so the three of us went back and chit-chatted while slathering ourselves with SPF-50. By the time we were done it was almost 11:30, so we hung out for another half-hour before going back to Spicer’s. I ran into astonishing ignorance from the staff there, who had apparently never met a vegetarian before. The cashier didn’t know anything, and when we asked the manager about a vegetarian sandwich he said he’d have to ask the cook. There was a long pause before A finally said “well then can you ask the cook?!” He went into the back for a while, and finally said they could make a cheese salad sandwich for me. I’ve never heard of “cheese salad” before, so I asked for just a plain cheese sandwich. No, they could give me cheese salad - okay, fine, I missed breakfast, I’m hungry, gimme the damn cheese salad sandwich! When it was finally brought to the table, it turned out to be a very nice sandwich: a couple of different types of cheese, plus some lettuce, a tomato slice, and dressing I couldn’t identify (probably just mayo) between two innocent pieces of white bread. It was rather tasty. While we were eating, A and I told C about our plan to go shopping. He didn’t have any other plans, but I could tell he didn’t want to come along. He was nice, though, and sucked it up because I admitted I would enjoy his company. The three of us headed to the lobby and a cab came quickly. (They always do - I think they must be somewhere on the resort grounds or something.) We went to Spiceland Mall first, and I picked up some trinkety souvenirs because I knew I wouldn’t have another chance to get them. There was a supermarket in the mall, so we got snacks there, and C stopped in at a fabric store to buy a blanket for the picnic we were planning that night. We next walked across the street to the Le Marquis Complex, which was utterly boring; we could have walked a little up the road to the Grand Anse Shopping Centre but it was hot and we were all sweaty, so we found a cab and went back to the resort. A little later on I was browsing through the pictures already in my camera, and suddenly I noticed some that were very dark, as if the flash hadn’t been on in a dimly lit room. After that were pictures of people I didn’t know - the cab driver’s family had taken pictures of each other with my camera! It was amusing, but at the same time I felt vaguely violated. Then again, I know I’m lucky to have the camera back at all. C and I tried to go snorkeling, but his mask broke and I had a terrible time trying to swim with my eyes squinched shut, one hand pinching my nose, and another holding the snorkel - I gave up and just frolicked while C swam around with his goggles on. He decided it was too dark to see anything, so we went back inside. Our picnic went nicely; we set up our blanket on the beach after dark and lit citronella incense to stick in the sand around us. We had pizza delivered (I had to go to the lobby to get it, which I did barefoot despite the “dress code” that claimed I should wear shoes in public areas; if you carry yourself properly nobody notices your feet), and we ate some of the snacks we’d picked up at the grocery store earlier. The snacks, incidentally, included some British food - Cadbury candy bars and little cookies called Go Ahead, of which I’d picked the forest-fruit variety. The mosquito population left us alone while we drank the rum/eggnog :R: had bought at the distillery the day before; I didn’t like it and handed my glass off to C.