Chinese Restaurant at the Prickly Bay

We love Chinese food! The best examples (probably for the western taste) can be found in Canada, especially in Toronto Chinatown. So we have a craving for it once in a while. According to Doyle, there is one such restaurant in Prickly Bay, so we decided to check it out one evening, when we had nothing to eat (!) (The cook was too lazy to whip up something from the ample pantry). 

We took our head lights (I have one as well thanks to Zeynep), and left our dingy at the Prickly Marina and walked for five minutes along the road towards town, and there it was; Chou / Choo Light (both spellings were used at different signs around the restaurant), a nice setting in the woods, about ten tables in the porch, all empty, but we were early, right before it got dark (around 6:00 pm). The owner directed us to a table, and his wife came to serve. We started chatting (Al always uses the few words he learns from every language to break the ice to talk with the proprietors). We learned that she had family in Toronto, and like us was going there for the summers.

Their food was good, and quite cheap, so we enjoyed our meal, except for the mosquitos, or whatever the gnats are called in Grenada. They are deadly, especially for me. Nothing helps, all the poison we apply on our bodies do nothing for them. Even the coil she graciously provided choked me, but not the minuscule devils. That was the drawback of the forest location.

While we were eating, three young oriental people (two girls and a man) walked in, reading the signs, and talking in English among themselves. The proprietor lady came out, and started to talk to them in Chinese. The young guy had a small camera hanging on his chest, and the girls had maps. It seemed that they were either tourists lost their way, or new in the island, who came for the St George’s University. The university is around the bay, and there is not much else in that part of the city, beside the two marinas. Anyway, they went into a long discussion and the lady showed them the direction of the city, at quite a distance from where we were, and the way quite dark. However, they started on foot with the light gait of young people.

Looking at them, I remembered our escapades in Germany, whenever we were forced to find our way in a city or in a big store, how we would turn to Turkish establishments (kebab houses) or Turkish employees of the stores we recognised from their name tags, instead of using our non-existent German. There it seemed logical and easy, but in Grenada it seemed a bit extreme, especially for people speaking English. People on the streets here are so welcoming and friendly that it is hard to believe one would feel reluctant to ask the way. It is possible that in the dark they could not spot anyone on the streets, and were excited to find a Chinese restaurant in the wilderness. Whatever it was, I found it amusing.