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Hunter S. Thompson and Mental Health
by R.A. Hettinga 27 Feb '05

27 Feb '05

<http://www.chronwatch.com/content/contentDisplay.asp?aid=13302&mode=print> Chronwatch Hunter S. Thompson and Mental Health Written by George Thomas Clark Sunday, February 27, 2005 Since Hunter Thompson put a gun in his mouth and shot himself last week, I've been digging deep into the Internet and reading lots of articles about him. The first wave of stories commended his hard-punching, eye-gouging, "gonzo" style of insightful political writing in such books as "Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas" and "Kingdom of Fear," and recalled with wonderment and affection his manic consumption of alcohol, LSD, cocaine, and enough other intoxicants to fill the Physician's Desk Reference. A couple of days after the coroner came, many who'd known the man, or witnessed one or more of his countless binges, began to somberly note that he really had drunk, snorted, and dropped too many unforgiving things and such behavior wasn't so amusing and admirable after all. But in none of the articles I've found has anyone said, "Hey, Hunter should have gotten help." That is amazing, and appallingly typical. If a guy gets a toothache he'll dash to the dentist. A fever sends him scampering to the doctor. A rash drives him scratching to the dermatologist. Heart, liver, kidney, and stomach problems are also widely understood to require medical attention. But what about the human brain? It is easily the most astonishing organ in this solar system, yet it's usually considered a body part unworthy of professional treatment. The essential problem is ignorance; most people still view the brain as a primarily psychic phenomenon and assume that common (even rampant) ailments like depression, alcoholism, drug addiction, and excessive anger should either be ignored or treated with more alcohol or cigarettes or, most admirably, by gnawing on the stick of righteous stoicism. None of those will work. People whose brains have sentenced them to unrelenting depressive pain, generally because of an intrinsic chemical imbalance, must be treated medically. A guy like Thompson, who drunkenly barrels into public events, snorts coke in a thousand bathrooms, stands barefoot in the snow shooting guns in the middle of the night, hordes explosives, and repeatedly tells his wife that he's considering suicide, is a guy who needs help. Perhaps his wife did suggest he see a psychiatrist. She should have insisted. Instead, the Associated Press quotes her as having threatened to leave him. His final act certainly wasn't her fault. She couldn't have saved him. Only Thompson had a chance to do that. When Thompson broke his leg in Hawaii last year, Sean Penn immediately spent twenty-seven grand to fly him back to the writer's "fortified compound" - the focal point of his isolation and paranoia - in Colorado. That was a compassionate gesture by Penn but would have been far more helpful had the jet been pointed toward a mental health facility. Thompson would have bellowed upon arriving. He probably would have refused treatment, claiming he didn't need it but the rest of the world did. He was, however, decidedly capable of admitting some kinds of pain. He acknowledged his hip hurt bad enough to be replaced, and underwent the operation. So Hunter S. Thompson, a very tough guy, or at least a tough talker, was willing to get the best treatment for his leg and his hip. But like too many others in mental distress, he didn't understand his brain also deserved the finest medical attention. About the Writer: George Thomas Clark is the author of two books, Hitler Here, a biographical novel, and Outliving Flynn, a short story collection. Hitler Here will be published in India this year by Vasan Publications/Mastermind Books and in the Czech Republic by Mlada Fronta. The author's website is http://www.georgethomasclark.com/ . -- ----------------- R. A. Hettinga <mailto: rah(a)ibuc.com> The Internet Bearer Underwriting Corporation <http://www.ibuc.com/> 44 Farquhar Street, Boston, MA 02131 USA "... however it may deserve respect for its usefulness and antiquity, [predicting the end of the world] has not been found agreeable to experience." -- Edward Gibbon, 'Decline and Fall of the Roman Empire'

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Hunter S. Thompson: 1937 - 2005
by R.A. Hettinga 27 Feb '05

27 Feb '05

<http://www.kansascity.com/mld/kansascity/entertainment/10983783.htm?templat…> Posted on Sun, Feb. 27, 2005 Hunter S. Thompson: 1937 - 2005 The writing... By JOHN MARK EBERHART The Kansas City Star "Gonzo" journalist Hunter S. Thompson shot himself a week ago today, but he had put a bullet in his writing career years ago. The Denver Post reported last week that Thompson, 67, had been in pain after a broken leg and hip surgery. But Juan Thompson, his son, made it clear we may never know all the details; in a statement to the Aspen Daily News, he said, "Hunter prized his privacy, and we ask that his friends and admirers respect that privacy as well as that of his family." That's fine. But Thompson didn't appear to be as private as his son implied. No, Thompson often lived a life that was very public and marked by excess. The writer himself seemed ambivalent. On some occasions he claimed tales of his drug use were exaggerated. On others he bragged that booze, pills, weed, acid and other substances helped make him creative. Early on, maybe they did. There was no denying the cracked brilliance of 1970s works such as Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas, which wallowed in the drug culture but told some truths many Americans didn't want to hear, or Fear and Loathing: On the Campaign Trail '72, which dug deep into the dirt of presidential politics. In 1979 Thompson published The Great Shark Hunt, a collection of shorter works, many of which had appeared in Rolling Stone. Like the two Fear and Loathing books, many of these pieces were "gonzo"; that is, the journalist becoming part of the story. Classic example: "Freak Power in the Rockies," which had appeared in Rolling Stone in 1970. It was a piece based on one of Thompson's elaborate jokes on society in this case, running for sheriff of Pitkin County, Colo. His platform was absurd: Sod the streets, change the name of Aspen to "Fat City" to keep "land-rapers and other human jackals from capitalizing on the name" and otherwise harass developers from transforming Aspen into a playground for the rich. But guess what? Thompson was serious about his fears over rampant development and actually did run for sheriff and came close to winning, so close that he served on a sheriff's advisory committee and ultimately wielded influence in Aspen's preservation. By the early 1980s, though, his writing ability had plummeted. The Curse of Lono, a book about marathon runners, was a mess. His fire-and-gasoline prose was gone, replaced by self-parody. No wonder: Thompson was consuming massive amounts of alcohol and cocaine, according to Paul Perry's 1992 biography, Fear and Loathing: The Strange and Terrible Saga of Hunter S. Thompson. Even hardcore partiers such as the late John Belushi couldn't match him. Perry's book states that Belushi once stayed with Thompson in Colorado a few days; upon departing, the comedian said: "I had to leave. I couldn't keep up with that guy." Neither, really, could Thompson. Generation of Swine, Songs of the Doomed and Better Than Sex, published from 1988 to 1994, were addled, woefully thin works. Things seemed to improve with 1997's The Proud Highway and 2000's Fear and Loathing in America, the first two volumes of Thompson's letters. Here was the inferno we'd been missing! But the truth was the most recent of these letters had been written in 1976. Remove the time warp, and one was stuck knowing Thompson's great work was behind him. The man was suffering, too. His marriage to Sandra Dawn Thompson was long over; she would later confess she had come to fear him. In 1990 a woman accused him of sexual assault; a subsequent search of Thompson's home led to drug charges as well. Eventually the whole thing was dropped (by that time, Thompson could afford good lawyers). In July 2000 he accidentally shot his assistant, Deborah Fuller, allegedly while chasing a bear off his property. She was not seriously injured. Amazingly, she stayed with him. I interviewed Thompson in December 2000, and to do so I had to deal with Fuller first. Both she and Thompson sounded seriously on edge at the time. When she finally managed to get him to the phone (it took several days), he obviously was into the sauce. For the last four years Thompson mostly had managed to stay out of the news, and had remarried to yet another assistant, Anita, who apparently had better luck with him. Hey, Rube, published last summer, was not vintage Thompson, but the collection wasn't awful, either. Was he reforming? Who knows? Hunter S. Thompson will be remembered as much for his persona as his writing. Look, everyone is young once. Writers tend to be not only young but also a little crazy. If we're lucky, that period of our lives results in a surfeit of energy that makes the pages crackle; over time, we temper. Old and crazy, though, can be ugly. Ernest Hemingway died that way - and from a self-inflicted gunshot wound, just like Thompson. Both of them had written well. Both had lived hard. I'm not saying either of them should have become a vegetarian or a temperance crusader, but a little more self-respect might have gone a long way toward ensuring their later writings didn't suffer so much. So while it may sound heretical to their many fans, I must stand by this conclusion: Both of them could have done it all better. -- ----------------- R. A. Hettinga <mailto: rah(a)ibuc.com> The Internet Bearer Underwriting Corporation <http://www.ibuc.com/> 44 Farquhar Street, Boston, MA 02131 USA "... however it may deserve respect for its usefulness and antiquity, [predicting the end of the world] has not been found agreeable to experience." -- Edward Gibbon, 'Decline and Fall of the Roman Empire'

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CodeCon vs. Demo: A Tale of Two Conferences
by R.A. Hettinga 27 Feb '05

27 Feb '05

<http://online.wsj.com/article_print/0,,SB110954583959165320,00.html> The Wall Street Journal February 28, 2005 PORTALS By LEE GOMES Tale of 2 Conferences: High-Tech Innovation Comes in Many Guises February 28, 2005 Through an unusual alignment of the planets, two conferences that featured aspiring innovator-entrepreneurs eager to take the world by storm had their start on the same weekend this month. Both gatherings lasted three days; both featured speakers getting up on stage and describing a new product, usually a piece of software. Beyond that, though, the gatherings couldn't have been more different. The first, called CodeCon, drew 100 or so mostly young programmers, many from the open-source software movement, to a dark and cavernous San Francisco dance club, the venue chosen largely because it was cheap. Attendance cost $80, but you got to go to a Friday night reception at a nearby restaurant with burgers, pizza and beer. The second event was Demo, and it took place at a Scottsdale, Ariz., desert resort that was selected for its golf course, plush rooms, gourmet food and free-flowing open bars. The entry price there was $3,000, and more than 600 people showed up, though many were journalists who got in free. While Demo -- and elite industry shows like it -- are sometimes portrayed as carefully juried competitions of the current crop of tech innovation, in fact, the main prerequisite for getting up on stage in Scottsdale was a willingness to write a check for up to $16,000 to Demo's organizers. There were an eye-glazing 75 presentations in all, most lasting six minutes. At CodeCon, by contrast, it didn't cost anything for the 15 featured speakers to present their ideas. They did, however, have to be selected in advance by conference planners Len Sassaman and Bram Cohen. If that last name sounds familiar, it's because Mr. Cohen is the author of BitTorrent, the file-sharing software that is often used to download pirated movies and that, by one estimate, is now responsible for 30% of all Web traffic because those files are so big. BitTorrent, which has legal uses too, was unveiled at the first CodeCon back in 2002, and it remains the show's greatest hit. Most of the folks presenting at Demo were small start-up companies in "heat-seeking" mode, eager to snag a write-up from one of the freeloading reporters or, better yet, an investment from one of the many venture capitalists, hedge-fund managers, angel investors and other moneymen working the halls. At CodeCon, presenters tended to be small groups of programmers with far more modest goals. A mention of your project in Slashdot, the blog of record for techies, would be considered a home run. If, as a result of the buzz from your presentation, you got a job interview at Google, that might be a double. The Luddites among you out there will probably be pleased to learn that both gatherings were plagued by technical snafus. At CodeCon, the bulb in the projector that speakers used to show their slides blew out on the first day. One presenter improvised during the blackout by inviting the crowd to gather around his laptop as he put his software through its paces. At Demo, the whole network kept going down, which is no small detail when you are trying to demonstrate something that works over the Internet. A number of presenters thus found themselves living the entrepreneur's fever dream of being on stage in a crowded hotel ballroom in front of a blank screen, saying, in effect, "Trust me, the product really works." A lot of Demo was focused on the computing needs of big companies, while CodeCon was skewed to the sorts of computer-programming projects that would interest computer programmers. But there was some overlap, too. See if you can guess which of these programs was introduced at which conference: A) Gleeper, for discovering new Web sites. B) Browster, for speeding up Web searches. C) IntelleDox, for coordinating changes to word-processing documents. D) ApacheCA, for coordinating changes to a software project. (Answers: CodeCon, Demo, Demo, CodeCon.) If, through some space-time warp, the Demo people had found themselves at CodeCon, they would probably have regarded many of the projects as crude, unfinished or of limited appeal. Conversely, those at CodeCon would likely have sneered that the Demo products were often me-too entrants into already-crowded markets, innovative mainly in their use of the current buzzwords. But it's not as though the two groups are inherently antagonistic to each other. While open-source buffs like those at CodeCon are sometimes described as the Bolsheviks of the tech world, most would only too happily start a company, and many probably will when they get a little older. The Demo people, mostly in their 40s and 50s, haven't become too ossified to remember that earth-shaking innovations in these days of Linux and the Internet can turn up anywhere, even a San Francisco nightclub. Indeed, venture capitalists are starting to pop up at CodeCon, and the aforementioned hamburger reception was sponsored by Google itself. In short, spending a few days at both CodeCon and Demo offered a handy way to visit both the top and the bottom of the technology food chain. I will, though, leave it up to you to decide which conference was which. -- ----------------- R. A. Hettinga <mailto: rah(a)ibuc.com> The Internet Bearer Underwriting Corporation <http://www.ibuc.com/> 44 Farquhar Street, Boston, MA 02131 USA "... however it may deserve respect for its usefulness and antiquity, [predicting the end of the world] has not been found agreeable to experience." -- Edward Gibbon, 'Decline and Fall of the Roman Empire'

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Italian GSM provider warns: too many wiretaps
by R.A. Hettinga 27 Feb '05

27 Feb '05

<Mr-Rogers> Now, boys and girls, try not to laugh *too* hard, and be sure you swallow your Wheaties before you read this... </M-R> Cheers, RAH ------- <http://www.edri.org/edrigram/number3.4/wiretap> | EDRI EDRI-gram ; EDRI-gram - Number 3.4, 24 February 2005 Italian GSM provider warns: too many wiretaps 24 February, 2005 ; Privacy | Wiretapping The Italian mobile operator TIM, one of the largest mobile phone companies in Italy has issued a unique warning that the number of wiretaps has reached the limit. In a fax sent to all Italian public prosecutors they say that they have already over-stretched their capacity from 5.000 to 7.000 simultaneously intercepted mobile phones. New requests now have to be processed on a 'first come first serve' basis, they write. Even more unique in the current secretive environment of law enforcement, the Italian Minister of Justice Roberto Castelli (right-wing Lega Nord) has provided the newspaper Repubblica with statistics about the number of wiretaps and costs. The number of wiretaps has doubled every two years, he said, from 32.000 intercepts in 2001, to 45.000 in 2002, to 77.000 in 2003. He estimates the number of wiretaps in 2004 to be 100.000, costing the Justice department aprox 300.00 million euro in cost reimbursements. In 2003 the department of Justice spent 225 million euro on the intercepts, in 2002 230 million and in 2001 165 million. Castelli admitted the number of police intercepts in Italy was very high. Currently Italy has aprox 58 million inhabitants. With 100.000 intercepts in 2004, Italy orders 172 judicial intercepts per 100.000 inhabitants. There is no information about wiretaps ordered by secret services in any country. Castelli referred to the report of the German Max Planck Institute which already concluded Italy was the wiretapping champion of the (western) world with 76 intercepts per 100.000 inhabitants (44.000 wiretaps in 1996). The number two on the European wiretapping list in 1996, the Netherlands, refuses to provide any recent statistics. According to unofficial estimates the Netherlands intercepted 12.000 phones (fixed and mobile) in 2004. If those numbers are correct, the Netherlands have 75 intercepts per 100.000 inhabitants. In the United States, the most recent public statistics date from 2002. They mention 1.273 court ordered intercepts on a population of aprox 293 million, totalling 0,43 intercepts per 100.000 inhabitants. The UK Communication Commissioner mentions a total of 1.983 warrants for intercepts in 2003 on a population of 59,5 million, totalling 3,3 intercepts per 100.000 inhabitants. One possible explanation for the explosion of the number of wiretaps in Italy is their short duration. An order is valid for 15 days and can only be extended with a new motivation from a magistrate. Only for investigations into organised crime an intercept can last 40 days. In many other countries, intercepts have a duration of 1 to 3 months. Vodafone and Wind, two other major mobile phone companies, are also reaching their maximum wiretapping capacity, reports Repubblica. While Castelli used the occasion to warn against overuse of wiretapping in investigations, the Italian magistracy doesn't seem to agree. Edmondo Bruto Liberati, President the National Association of Magistrates (association of both judges and public prosecutors) stressed that wiretapping is much cheaper than individual covert surveillance. He complained about the vast under-financing the judicial apparatus is currently suffering from. This public debate between the Minister and the magistracy points at a more fundamental division in Italian politics. By stressing the immense costs of wiretapping the Minister of Justice adds weight to his attempt to shift the costs to the Ministry of Internal Affairs. Generally the Minister pictures an image of a foolish magistracy that abundantly spends public money. This comes as no surprise to many Italians, given the tense relationship between Berlusconi and the magistracy. MP Giovanni Russo Spena (left wing opposition, Rifondazione Comunista) has demanded an explanation from the government about the massive use of wiretapping in investigations and wishes to be informed how citizens are protected against this potential and actual invasion of their privacy rights. -- ----------------- R. A. Hettinga <mailto: rah(a)ibuc.com> The Internet Bearer Underwriting Corporation <http://www.ibuc.com/> 44 Farquhar Street, Boston, MA 02131 USA "... however it may deserve respect for its usefulness and antiquity, [predicting the end of the world] has not been found agreeable to experience." -- Edward Gibbon, 'Decline and Fall of the Roman Empire'

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Senators Boxer, Clinton Unveil "Count Every Vote Act of 2005"
by R.A. Hettinga 27 Feb '05

27 Feb '05

<http://dailykos.com/story/2005/2/26/204031/168> Daily Kos :: Political Analysis and other daily rants on the state of the nation. Senators Boxer, Clinton Unveil "Count Every Vote Act of 2005" by Hunter Sat Feb 26th, 2005 at 17:40:31 PST The email alerts on this were sent out last week. In case you missed it, here's the press release from Boxer. WASHINGTON, DC- U.S. Senators Hillary Rodham Clinton (D-NY) and Barbara Boxer (D-CA) today unveiled comprehensive voting reform legislation to make sure that every American is able to vote and every vote is counted. Senators Clinton and Boxer announced the legislation today in a press conference joined by Representative Stephanie Tubbs Jones (D-OH), who will sponsor the legislation in the House of Representatives, and voting rights advocates. [...] The Count Every Vote Act of 2005 will provide a voter verified paper ballot for every vote cast in electronic voting machines and ensures access to voter verification for all citizens, including language minority voters, illiterate voters and voters with disabilities. The bill mandates that this ballot be the official ballot for purposes of a recount. The bill sets a uniform standard for provisional ballots so that every qualified voter will know their votes are treated equally, and requires the Federal Election Assistance Commission to issue standards that ensure uniform access to voting machines and trained election personnel in every community. The bill also improves security measures for electronic voting machines. To encourage more citizens to exercise their right to vote, the Count Every Vote Act designates Election Day a federal holiday and requires early voting in each state. The bill also enacts "no-excuse" absentee balloting, enacts fair and uniform voter registration and identification, and requires states to allow citizens to register to vote on Election Day. It also requires the Election Assistance Commission to work with states to reduce wait times for voters at polling places. In addition, the legislation restores voting rights for felons who have repaid their debt to society. The Count Every Vote Act also includes measures to protect voters from deceptive practices and conflicts of interest that harm voter trust in the integrity of the system. In particular, the bill restricts the ability of chief state election officials as well as owners and senior managers of voting machine manufacturers to engage in certain kinds of political activity. The bill also makes it a federal crime to commit deceptive practices, such as sending flyers into minority neighborhoods telling voters the wrong voting date, and makes these practices a felony punishable by up to a year of imprisonment. Boxer, Clinton, and Tubbs Jones deserve our support on this one -- the Republican strategy will be to attempt to ignore this completely, and bury it long before it could ever reach the floor. Let's make that a painful strategy to have, by singling out each opponent of voting reform as they fling themselves in front of this bus. Having accurate vote counts should not be a partisan issue. The fact that it is says volumes about the cowardice and reliance on "grass-roots" thuggery of the current Republican party. And yeah, Jeb -- I'm talking about you. -- ----------------- R. A. Hettinga <mailto: rah(a)ibuc.com> The Internet Bearer Underwriting Corporation <http://www.ibuc.com/> 44 Farquhar Street, Boston, MA 02131 USA "... however it may deserve respect for its usefulness and antiquity, [predicting the end of the world] has not been found agreeable to experience." -- Edward Gibbon, 'Decline and Fall of the Roman Empire'

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ChoicePoint ID Theft Stirs Up Congress
by R.A. Hettinga 27 Feb '05

27 Feb '05

<http://www.internetnews.com/bus-news/print.php/3485881> www.internetnews.com/bus-news/article.php/3485881 Back to Article ChoicePoint ID Theft Stirs Up Congress By Roy Mark February 25, 2005 The ChoicePoint ID theft scandal resonated through Congress this week with calls for hearings, investigations and new legislation to better protect the information collected by private data brokers. Last week, ChoicePoint said it had been a victim of a criminal fraud in which the company was duped into releasing personal data on approximately 145,000 U.S. citizens in all 50 states. ChoicePoint is now in the process of notifying all of the potential victims who could become targets of ID theft. The Alpharetta, Ga.-based company, one of the country's largest data warehouses, compiles data, including Social Security numbers and credit reports, on virtually every American. Congress was on vacation this week, but the ChoicePoint situation sparked outcries and calls for stronger privacy protection action from lawmakers when they return to business next week. Sen. Patrick Leahy of Vermont, the Democrats' ranking member on the Senate Judiciary Committee, immediately requested a series of hearings on private data companies that have little oversight and few rules that protect public privacy. Sen. Diane Feinstein (D-Calif.) used the ChoicePoint incident to promote legislation she has already introduced. It is modeled on a California law that requires data collection companies to notify affected individuals if there is a breach in their data system. California is the only state to have such a law. Florida Democrat Bill Nelson said he would introduce legislation in the Senate that would extend the provisions of the Fair Credit Reporting Act to commercial data brokers. "New technologies, new private-public domestic security partnerships, and the rapid rise of giant information brokers that collect and sell personal information about each and every American have all combined to produce powerful new threats to privacy," Leahy said in a statement. "It's time to turn some sunshine on these developments so the public can understand how and why their personal information is being used." Pennsylvania Republican Arlen Specter, the chairman of the Judiciary Committee, quickly agreed to the hearings. Although no date has been set for the hearings, Leahy spokesman David Carle said, "It's all moving fairly quickly now." In his letter to Specter requesting the hearing, Leahy, a longtime technology champion, said advances in data collection and analysis have "enhanced our law enforcement and homeland security efforts, as well as made our lives more convenient and enjoyable These advances also present new challenges that require vigilant congressional scrutiny." Leahy added, "We need to master these technological advances rather than allow them to master us. Recent events indicate that we are in danger of losing this struggle." Feinstein said she has three bills that would give consumers greater control over their personal data. "The ChoicePoint situation is perhaps the biggest indication of the vulnerability and lack of protection of individuals' personal data," Feinstein said in a statement. "As a result, identity theft incidents are escalating into the hundreds of thousands at a given time." Feinstein wants to expand the California law into federal legislation that would require data collection companies to obtain consumers' consent before selling sensitive personal data. She also wants to prohibit the sale or display of Social Security numbers to the general public without individuals' knowledge and consent. In addition, the bill would bar government agencies from displaying Social Security numbers on public records that are posted on the Internet as well as prohibit the printing of Social Security numbers on government checks. "The only way to fix the situation is with federal legislation because we need an even playing field in every state. It is my hope that this incident will accelerate action and lead to greater protection of personal data," Feinstein said. Sen. Charles Schumer (D-N.Y.) also lamented the ChoicePoint situation but broadened the scope of data collection firms not properly protecting information to Westlaw, a Minnesota-based data search company. According to Schumer, Westlaw's Internet-based People-Find service provides Social Security numbers to anyone willing to pay a fee. "Westlaw's People-Find service might as well be the first chapter of 'Identity Theft for Dummies.' Criminals no longer need to forage through dumpsters for discarded bills -- they just need to send Westlaw a check and they're in the identity theft business," Schumer said in a letter to Westlaw President Peter Warwick. "Any Westlaw user who pays for your People-Find database can obtain the Social Security number of virtually any person in the United States." Schumer wants Westlaw to disable the service until he introduces legislation to "plug these egregious loopholes allowing millions of Social Security numbers to be on the Internet." Schumer said a constituent who works for the federal court system brought the Westlaw People-Find feature to his attention. According to Schumer, private companies subscribe to the service and have access to Social Security numbers. "When I called Westlaw, I learned that this service is available to anyone who is willing to pay for it, regardless of their need for it and without cursory background checks. Westlaw relies on an on-your-honor affirmation by users that they will not use the information they find illegally," Schumer said. Schumer added in a press statement, "Rather than receiving assurances that the problem would be remedied, my office received a letter from Westlaw's legal representation that failed to address the central issue -- that there are no real standards for keeping sensitive personal data out of the wrong hands." -- ----------------- R. A. Hettinga <mailto: rah(a)ibuc.com> The Internet Bearer Underwriting Corporation <http://www.ibuc.com/> 44 Farquhar Street, Boston, MA 02131 USA "... however it may deserve respect for its usefulness and antiquity, [predicting the end of the world] has not been found agreeable to experience." -- Edward Gibbon, 'Decline and Fall of the Roman Empire'

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Anguilla on $1000 a day - NYTimes
by Bill Stewart 27 Feb '05

27 Feb '05

The NYT updates us on a favorite cryptographers' hideout.... http://travel2.nytimes.com/2005/02/27/travel/27high.html February 27, 2005 HIGH LOW High: Anguilla on $1000 a Day By JULIET MACUR N hour after arriving on Anguilla in early January, I was soaking in the hot tub at an exclusive resort, sunglasses on, eyes closed, sun warming my pasty Northeastern face. Ah, Anguilla, a quiet island that has recently become "the next St. Barts," a hedonistic hideaway and magnet for members of the boldface set. At the northeast corner of this narrow isle, Jennifer Aniston and Brad Pitt spent New Year's in a villa on Captain's Bay. On its southwestern coast, Jay-Z and Beyonci had cuddled on the sands of Shoal Bay West. Down the beach from my resort, Uma Thurman had kicked back at a local bar. Just as I began to imagine that I, too, was a star on an escape-the-paparazzi trip, reality interrupted. A foreign object crashed into my hot tub and sent water slapping against my face. A small boy and his father were throwing a ball wildly. The father's next toss bounced off the boy's head and against a woman's forehead. The father laughed. The woman smiled. I growled and thought, "This doesn't happen to Jennifer Aniston." I left in a huff because I had no time for distractions. This was serious business: I had to figure out how to get by on $1,000 a day. Related Feature Low: Anguilla on $250 a Day Though Anguilla is a relatively undeveloped island where goats might outnumber residents, $1,000 a day at a chic resort amounts to roughing it. At the Cap Juluca resort, the cheapest room in high season cost $936 a night, including the 20 percent tax. Malliouhana Hotel offered a garden view room on the first floor for $744. If my best friend, Rose, and I were to eat, drink and even think of going to the spa on my $1,000-a-day budget, the only high-end resort I could afford was the CuisinArt Resort and Spa, which sits near the island's southwestern end on Rendezvous Bay's beach, one and a half miles of flour-soft sand, blindingly white. The turquoise ocean water was as clear as Evian, and you could see fish near the sea floor. The cheapest rate, $550 plus $110 tax - but including Continental breakfast - would allow us to pretend we belonged at this beautiful place. The resort's grounds were simple and elegant. Eggplant-colored bougainvillea climbed the whitewashed stucco buildings that looked as if they had been plucked from a Greek cliff. In a nearby garden were trees heavy with guavas, fig bananas and star apples. As we looked from the lobby onto a series of rectangular pools cascading to the beach, a receptionist said we had been upgraded from the main house to a suite in one of the 10 three-story villas clustered along the shore. "We hope you don't mind," she said, unaware that I was a journalist. No, we didn't, and certainly not after seeing the room. The upgrade, to a junior suite that would have cost $120 more a night, allowed us to hear waves from our patio. Our "suite" was a cheery, not fancy, single room, but at 920 square feet was nearly as big as my Manhattan apartment. A navy couch broke up the space into sleeping and lounging areas. Two double beds with wicker headboards faced the porch and a walkway to the beach. Paintings of Greek fishing villages and bright bedspreads splashed color against the white walls and tile floors. A brochure called the bathroom "your own private sanctum," large enough for an oval tub for a honeymooning couple's bubble bath. But nothing was that private, considering one wall was made of warped glass. While on the outside walkway one day, I gasped when I saw a fuzzy version of Rose heading for the shower. At the resort's free reception on our first night (with food and drink), the manager, Rabin Ortiz, told us, "Do not make plans for your weekend." We quickly learned why. There are no plans to make because, on Anguilla, there is basically nothing to do. And that's the point. At CuisinArt, stay away from the main pool (where ball-tossing children congregate). Instead, sit on the beach and take delivery of homemade lemon sorbet from waiters whose goal is to fill you with fruity rum drinks. After sundown, submit to spa treatments like the Anguillan coconut pineapple scrub, which smells good enough to eat, and the hydroponic cucumber and aloe wrap, using ingredients grown on the premises. It was the perfect place for us: upscale, but not one bit snooty. Night life is minimal. (At 10:30 on Saturday night, only one couple was at our resort's bar, where a trio sang "Endless Love.") Sea kayaks, sailboats, catamarans and tennis courts were available and mostly unused. For casino or dance club action, it's a half-hour ferry ride to St. Martin. Still, after too many games of boccie and gin rummy - or perhaps not enough gin and rum - we searched for some fun. Down the beach was Dune Preserve, a delightfully mellow bar inside a wooden shack owned by the local reggae legend Bankie Banx. A CuisinArt bartender said that Uma had been there the night before. We followed the shoreline to get there. But then, as if the local gods ordered punishment for all $1,000-a-day cheapskates, two stray dogs charged us in the darkness. We couldn't see them, but they barked and snapped like rabid Rottweilers, sending us running back to CuisinArt. So much for Uma. Cowards that we were, we rented a car the next day for $55 (including $20 for an Anguillan license) and that night drove 60 seconds to Dune Preserve, only to realize we were too full for a drink. Because, on Anguilla, what you do is eat - often. Our gluttony had begun at Santorini, which, like CuisinArt's other heavenly restaurant, Cafe Mediterraneo, uses food grown in the resort's high-tech hydroponic garden or its old-school organic one. There, Rose and I went to a class led by CuisinArt's executive chef, Daniel Orr, formerly a chef at Guastavino's in New York City. Neither of us is a great cook. (My fridge at home contains two bottles of seltzer, nail polish and AA batteries.) But we are great eaters. We stuffed ourselves with a tangy serving of stingray, a dizzyingly delicious chocolate souffli and yellow lentil bisque so good we were tempted to lick our bowls. Afterward, I was shocked at the $75 charge, well over the advertised $55 I had budgeted (it had just gone up). I next heard my whiny voice telling the concierge: "You don't understand. I cannot afford this extra $20." The concierge rolled her eyes, but, hey, I needed $110 for the seaweed scrub later. That evening, we took a cab ($13 each way) to dinner at Blanchard's, a top-notch restaurant in a quaint cottage. Most of the 23 tables were arranged on the main floor, but we sat on a lower patio overlooking fountains and gardens and the sea beyond. The only disappointments were the rubbery lobster included in the $56 Caribbean Sampler and the waiters' rushing us through the meal. Total for my dinner: $110.40. Perhaps the management could sense that we were not the stars of our imaginations. I asked the man at the bar if any real stars came in. He reeled off names of those who had been there "just yesterday": Denzel Washington. Johnny Damon. Liam Neeson and his wife, Natasha Richardson. Courteney Cox Arquette. And, of course, Jennifer Aniston. The next day, though it was dry season, it poured. So on that rainy Sunday we rented a car and checked out Anguilla, which didn't take long. It is only about 16 miles long and 3 miles wide. We found it pleasingly devoid of cheesy T-shirt shops and fast-food joints but plentiful with road-roaming goats and the smiling people who own them. We lunched at Gorgeous Scilly Cay, a primitive restaurant on a tiny island off the northeastern coast. With no electricity, it's open only from 11 a.m. to 5 p.m. To get there, you stand on a dock and hail a boatman. Normally, patrons sun themselves there on lounge chairs between courses, and get foot rubs from the restaurant's masseur, said the owner, Sandra Wallace. But not on this rainy day. On the boat over with us, she wore a garbage bag to stay dry; the masseur stayed home. Still, a calypso band played upbeat music in the main house, which had about a dozen tables and was open on all sides. Outside, there were several palm-covered huts, each with a few plastic tables and chairs, where I ordered the crayfish and chicken plate for $45, as sweet as their rum punch was dangerous. My lunch, with tip, came to $74. We found no famous people there, either - we were managing to repel them - though we did hear that Sharon Stone had recently rented out the whole island. And Jennifer Aniston (her again) had been there the week before. That evening, I had my second treatment at the Venus Spa - a place without much character or Zen - at CuisinArt. (In the thumbnail-size locker room, I awkwardly rubbed elbows with someone's naked grandmother.) The Caribbean warm stone massage ($115, plus $22 tip) was a step up from the seaweed wrap of the day before - better called the seaweed chill. That one began with me shivering in the treatment room. The masseuse said, "If I told them once, I told them 20 times, this room is freezing." Then she spread cold seaweed gook over my goose bumps. I groaned while she mummified me with towels. Under those coverings, wrapped inside foil, I felt like a hypothermia patient. But relief came with the warm stone massage. As the smooth rocks rolled over my muscles it felt oddly soothing, as if I were being seared by a giant stick of roll-on deodorant. I felt so much at ease that later I splurged on a smoothie for Rose, at $8.05 the only thing I could afford to buy her all weekend. When the sun came out on our last day, I passed the hot tub and saw that same annoying family with their dreaded ball, this time being tossed between two strollers. So I headed for the beach. I bobbed around the water for a while, then moved my peaceful self to a lounge chair. There I sipped on my own smoothie until it was time to get back to the real world by way of the St. Martin airport. At a terminal newsstand, I finally saw Jennifer Aniston - on a magazine cover. How terrible - her Anguillan experience included suffering greater than my seaweed chill - she and Brad had broken up. "Hey lady!" the cashier yelled. "Did you see the sign? You can't read the magazines until you buy them!" What, she thought I looked rich? I had already spent my $2,000. So I dropped the $3.95 magazine onto the shelf and walked away. TWO-DAY TOTAL: $2,000.35 Visitor Information Getting There Several United States airlines run flights to Anguilla, but most operate in connection with other carriers. Most flights go through San Juan, and the cheapest fares (from about $646 round trip for late March) can require an additional connection in St. Martin. If you fly into St. Martin (from about $561 round trip), you can take a 20-minute ferry to Anguilla ($24 round trip plus $2.75 departure tax from St. Martin and $3 from Anguilla). Ferries run every half hour from 7:30 a.m. to 7:30 p.m. Where to Stay Cap Juluca, (888) 858-5822, www.capjuluca.com, is tucked away on the secluded beach at Maunday's Bay, making it a favorite hideaway for celebrities. Doubles start at $780 a night in the high season, from $445 in April, and $345 from May 1 through mid-November. (Add 20 percent in taxes to all rates.) Malliouhana Hotel and Spa, (264) 497-6111, www.malliouhana.com, is the perfect place to see an Anguillan sunset: it sits atop a cliff facing west over the crystal blue waters of Mead's Bay. Doubles start at $400 from April 1 to 30, and $290 from May 1 to Nov. 19; ocean-view one-bedroom suites are $825 and $660. CuisinArt Resort and Spa, (264) 498-2000, www.cuisinartresort.com, is perched on Rendezvous Bay. Rooms start at $550 a night from January through March, $395 in April, and $350 from May 1 to mid-December. Lloyd's Guest House, (264) 497-2351, www.lloyds.ai, has 14 rooms on Crocus Hill, in walking distance of Crocus Bay. The spacious rooms, some recently renovated, go for $65 to $85, with breakfast. Where to Eat Blanchard's, (264) 497-6100, www.blanchardsrestaurant.com, has a romantic setting overlooking Mead's Bay, and serves food with a Caribbean flair. >From mid-October through May, it opens for dinner at 6:30 p.m. and is closed Sunday. June through August, it is closed Sunday and Monday. Closed Sept. 1 to Oct. 20. Entrees from $34. Gorgeous Scilly Cay, (264) 497-5123, is an open-air restaurant on its own island, with free ferry service from Island Harbor. It is open on Wednesday, Friday and Sunday 11 a.m. to 5 p.m. Since there is no electricity, all food (chicken or seafood) is grilled. Live music on Wednesday and Sunday. Entrees start at $25. Roy's Place, (264) 497-2470, www.roysplaceanguilla.com, is a charming beachcomber's joint overlooking Crocus Bay, with a lively beach bar and an Internet connection for guests (including wireless). There is a Friday happy hour with dinner specials for $12. The Sunday specials are prime rib ($20) and lobster ($38). Lunch and dinner served daily, except dinner only on Saturday. English Rose, (264) 497-5353, a tavern in the central business district of The Valley, serves generous portions of comfort food at reasonable prices: burgers from $4, salads from $6. Closed Sunday. Tasty's Restaurant, (264) 497-2737, offers chic-casual Caribbean dining in South Hill: dishes like stewed creole-style lobster for $30, and coconut-crusted filet of parrot fish in banana rum sauce for $20. Open for breakfast, lunch and dinner daily, except Thursday. Trattoria Tramonto, (264) 497-8819, has open-air dining and a beach bar on one of the island's prettiest beaches, Shoal Bay West. The Italian menu emphasizes game and seafood, including wild boar filet mignon ($35) and spaghetti with crayfish, clams and shrimp ($30). Lunch and dinner except Monday. Uncle Ernie's, (264) 497-3907, is a quintessential beach shack on Shoal Bay East; open 9 a.m. to 7 p.m. What to Do Taino Wellness Center, off Spanish Town Road, South Hill, (264) 497-6066, www.magma.ca/~phwalker/, offers massages (from $40 for 30 minutes), manicures and pedicures (from $15), facials (from $50), and body treatments. Devonish Art Gallery, the Cove, West End, (264) 497-2949, shows works of local artists, including those by Courtney Devonish, a woodcarver and ceramicist. Open 9 a.m. to 5 p.m. Monday to Saturday or by appointment Sunday. Horseback riding with El Rancho del Blues in Blowing Point, (264) 497-6164 or 497-6334, starts at $25 an hour. JULIET MACUR is a sports reporter for The Times. Copyright 2005 The New York Times Company | Home | Privacy Policy | Search | Corrections | RSS | Help | Back to Top

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by Jared 27 Feb '05

27 Feb '05

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Anguilla on $1000 a day - NYTimes
by Bill Stewart 26 Feb '05

26 Feb '05

The NYT updates us on a favorite cryptographers' hideout.... http://travel2.nytimes.com/2005/02/27/travel/27high.html February 27, 2005 HIGH LOW High: Anguilla on $1000 a Day By JULIET MACUR N hour after arriving on Anguilla in early January, I was soaking in the hot tub at an exclusive resort, sunglasses on, eyes closed, sun warming my pasty Northeastern face. Ah, Anguilla, a quiet island that has recently become "the next St. Barts," a hedonistic hideaway and magnet for members of the boldface set. At the northeast corner of this narrow isle, Jennifer Aniston and Brad Pitt spent New Year's in a villa on Captain's Bay. On its southwestern coast, Jay-Z and Beyonci had cuddled on the sands of Shoal Bay West. Down the beach from my resort, Uma Thurman had kicked back at a local bar. Just as I began to imagine that I, too, was a star on an escape-the-paparazzi trip, reality interrupted. A foreign object crashed into my hot tub and sent water slapping against my face. A small boy and his father were throwing a ball wildly. The father's next toss bounced off the boy's head and against a woman's forehead. The father laughed. The woman smiled. I growled and thought, "This doesn't happen to Jennifer Aniston." I left in a huff because I had no time for distractions. This was serious business: I had to figure out how to get by on $1,000 a day. Related Feature Low: Anguilla on $250 a Day Though Anguilla is a relatively undeveloped island where goats might outnumber residents, $1,000 a day at a chic resort amounts to roughing it. At the Cap Juluca resort, the cheapest room in high season cost $936 a night, including the 20 percent tax. Malliouhana Hotel offered a garden view room on the first floor for $744. If my best friend, Rose, and I were to eat, drink and even think of going to the spa on my $1,000-a-day budget, the only high-end resort I could afford was the CuisinArt Resort and Spa, which sits near the island's southwestern end on Rendezvous Bay's beach, one and a half miles of flour-soft sand, blindingly white. The turquoise ocean water was as clear as Evian, and you could see fish near the sea floor. The cheapest rate, $550 plus $110 tax - but including Continental breakfast - would allow us to pretend we belonged at this beautiful place. The resort's grounds were simple and elegant. Eggplant-colored bougainvillea climbed the whitewashed stucco buildings that looked as if they had been plucked from a Greek cliff. In a nearby garden were trees heavy with guavas, fig bananas and star apples. As we looked from the lobby onto a series of rectangular pools cascading to the beach, a receptionist said we had been upgraded from the main house to a suite in one of the 10 three-story villas clustered along the shore. "We hope you don't mind," she said, unaware that I was a journalist. No, we didn't, and certainly not after seeing the room. The upgrade, to a junior suite that would have cost $120 more a night, allowed us to hear waves from our patio. Our "suite" was a cheery, not fancy, single room, but at 920 square feet was nearly as big as my Manhattan apartment. A navy couch broke up the space into sleeping and lounging areas. Two double beds with wicker headboards faced the porch and a walkway to the beach. Paintings of Greek fishing villages and bright bedspreads splashed color against the white walls and tile floors. A brochure called the bathroom "your own private sanctum," large enough for an oval tub for a honeymooning couple's bubble bath. But nothing was that private, considering one wall was made of warped glass. While on the outside walkway one day, I gasped when I saw a fuzzy version of Rose heading for the shower. At the resort's free reception on our first night (with food and drink), the manager, Rabin Ortiz, told us, "Do not make plans for your weekend." We quickly learned why. There are no plans to make because, on Anguilla, there is basically nothing to do. And that's the point. At CuisinArt, stay away from the main pool (where ball-tossing children congregate). Instead, sit on the beach and take delivery of homemade lemon sorbet from waiters whose goal is to fill you with fruity rum drinks. After sundown, submit to spa treatments like the Anguillan coconut pineapple scrub, which smells good enough to eat, and the hydroponic cucumber and aloe wrap, using ingredients grown on the premises. It was the perfect place for us: upscale, but not one bit snooty. Night life is minimal. (At 10:30 on Saturday night, only one couple was at our resort's bar, where a trio sang "Endless Love.") Sea kayaks, sailboats, catamarans and tennis courts were available and mostly unused. For casino or dance club action, it's a half-hour ferry ride to St. Martin. Still, after too many games of boccie and gin rummy - or perhaps not enough gin and rum - we searched for some fun. Down the beach was Dune Preserve, a delightfully mellow bar inside a wooden shack owned by the local reggae legend Bankie Banx. A CuisinArt bartender said that Uma had been there the night before. We followed the shoreline to get there. But then, as if the local gods ordered punishment for all $1,000-a-day cheapskates, two stray dogs charged us in the darkness. We couldn't see them, but they barked and snapped like rabid Rottweilers, sending us running back to CuisinArt. So much for Uma. Cowards that we were, we rented a car the next day for $55 (including $20 for an Anguillan license) and that night drove 60 seconds to Dune Preserve, only to realize we were too full for a drink. Because, on Anguilla, what you do is eat - often. Our gluttony had begun at Santorini, which, like CuisinArt's other heavenly restaurant, Cafe Mediterraneo, uses food grown in the resort's high-tech hydroponic garden or its old-school organic one. There, Rose and I went to a class led by CuisinArt's executive chef, Daniel Orr, formerly a chef at Guastavino's in New York City. Neither of us is a great cook. (My fridge at home contains two bottles of seltzer, nail polish and AA batteries.) But we are great eaters. We stuffed ourselves with a tangy serving of stingray, a dizzyingly delicious chocolate souffli and yellow lentil bisque so good we were tempted to lick our bowls. Afterward, I was shocked at the $75 charge, well over the advertised $55 I had budgeted (it had just gone up). I next heard my whiny voice telling the concierge: "You don't understand. I cannot afford this extra $20." The concierge rolled her eyes, but, hey, I needed $110 for the seaweed scrub later. That evening, we took a cab ($13 each way) to dinner at Blanchard's, a top-notch restaurant in a quaint cottage. Most of the 23 tables were arranged on the main floor, but we sat on a lower patio overlooking fountains and gardens and the sea beyond. The only disappointments were the rubbery lobster included in the $56 Caribbean Sampler and the waiters' rushing us through the meal. Total for my dinner: $110.40. Perhaps the management could sense that we were not the stars of our imaginations. I asked the man at the bar if any real stars came in. He reeled off names of those who had been there "just yesterday": Denzel Washington. Johnny Damon. Liam Neeson and his wife, Natasha Richardson. Courteney Cox Arquette. And, of course, Jennifer Aniston. The next day, though it was dry season, it poured. So on that rainy Sunday we rented a car and checked out Anguilla, which didn't take long. It is only about 16 miles long and 3 miles wide. We found it pleasingly devoid of cheesy T-shirt shops and fast-food joints but plentiful with road-roaming goats and the smiling people who own them. We lunched at Gorgeous Scilly Cay, a primitive restaurant on a tiny island off the northeastern coast. With no electricity, it's open only from 11 a.m. to 5 p.m. To get there, you stand on a dock and hail a boatman. Normally, patrons sun themselves there on lounge chairs between courses, and get foot rubs from the restaurant's masseur, said the owner, Sandra Wallace. But not on this rainy day. On the boat over with us, she wore a garbage bag to stay dry; the masseur stayed home. Still, a calypso band played upbeat music in the main house, which had about a dozen tables and was open on all sides. Outside, there were several palm-covered huts, each with a few plastic tables and chairs, where I ordered the crayfish and chicken plate for $45, as sweet as their rum punch was dangerous. My lunch, with tip, came to $74. We found no famous people there, either - we were managing to repel them - though we did hear that Sharon Stone had recently rented out the whole island. And Jennifer Aniston (her again) had been there the week before. That evening, I had my second treatment at the Venus Spa - a place without much character or Zen - at CuisinArt. (In the thumbnail-size locker room, I awkwardly rubbed elbows with someone's naked grandmother.) The Caribbean warm stone massage ($115, plus $22 tip) was a step up from the seaweed wrap of the day before - better called the seaweed chill. That one began with me shivering in the treatment room. The masseuse said, "If I told them once, I told them 20 times, this room is freezing." Then she spread cold seaweed gook over my goose bumps. I groaned while she mummified me with towels. Under those coverings, wrapped inside foil, I felt like a hypothermia patient. But relief came with the warm stone massage. As the smooth rocks rolled over my muscles it felt oddly soothing, as if I were being seared by a giant stick of roll-on deodorant. I felt so much at ease that later I splurged on a smoothie for Rose, at $8.05 the only thing I could afford to buy her all weekend. When the sun came out on our last day, I passed the hot tub and saw that same annoying family with their dreaded ball, this time being tossed between two strollers. So I headed for the beach. I bobbed around the water for a while, then moved my peaceful self to a lounge chair. There I sipped on my own smoothie until it was time to get back to the real world by way of the St. Martin airport. At a terminal newsstand, I finally saw Jennifer Aniston - on a magazine cover. How terrible - her Anguillan experience included suffering greater than my seaweed chill - she and Brad had broken up. "Hey lady!" the cashier yelled. "Did you see the sign? You can't read the magazines until you buy them!" What, she thought I looked rich? I had already spent my $2,000. So I dropped the $3.95 magazine onto the shelf and walked away. TWO-DAY TOTAL: $2,000.35 Visitor Information Getting There Several United States airlines run flights to Anguilla, but most operate in connection with other carriers. Most flights go through San Juan, and the cheapest fares (from about $646 round trip for late March) can require an additional connection in St. Martin. If you fly into St. Martin (from about $561 round trip), you can take a 20-minute ferry to Anguilla ($24 round trip plus $2.75 departure tax from St. Martin and $3 from Anguilla). Ferries run every half hour from 7:30 a.m. to 7:30 p.m. Where to Stay Cap Juluca, (888) 858-5822, www.capjuluca.com, is tucked away on the secluded beach at Maunday's Bay, making it a favorite hideaway for celebrities. Doubles start at $780 a night in the high season, from $445 in April, and $345 from May 1 through mid-November. (Add 20 percent in taxes to all rates.) Malliouhana Hotel and Spa, (264) 497-6111, www.malliouhana.com, is the perfect place to see an Anguillan sunset: it sits atop a cliff facing west over the crystal blue waters of Mead's Bay. Doubles start at $400 from April 1 to 30, and $290 from May 1 to Nov. 19; ocean-view one-bedroom suites are $825 and $660. CuisinArt Resort and Spa, (264) 498-2000, www.cuisinartresort.com, is perched on Rendezvous Bay. Rooms start at $550 a night from January through March, $395 in April, and $350 from May 1 to mid-December. Lloyd's Guest House, (264) 497-2351, www.lloyds.ai, has 14 rooms on Crocus Hill, in walking distance of Crocus Bay. The spacious rooms, some recently renovated, go for $65 to $85, with breakfast. Where to Eat Blanchard's, (264) 497-6100, www.blanchardsrestaurant.com, has a romantic setting overlooking Mead's Bay, and serves food with a Caribbean flair. >From mid-October through May, it opens for dinner at 6:30 p.m. and is closed Sunday. June through August, it is closed Sunday and Monday. Closed Sept. 1 to Oct. 20. Entrees from $34. Gorgeous Scilly Cay, (264) 497-5123, is an open-air restaurant on its own island, with free ferry service from Island Harbor. It is open on Wednesday, Friday and Sunday 11 a.m. to 5 p.m. Since there is no electricity, all food (chicken or seafood) is grilled. Live music on Wednesday and Sunday. Entrees start at $25. Roy's Place, (264) 497-2470, www.roysplaceanguilla.com, is a charming beachcomber's joint overlooking Crocus Bay, with a lively beach bar and an Internet connection for guests (including wireless). There is a Friday happy hour with dinner specials for $12. The Sunday specials are prime rib ($20) and lobster ($38). Lunch and dinner served daily, except dinner only on Saturday. English Rose, (264) 497-5353, a tavern in the central business district of The Valley, serves generous portions of comfort food at reasonable prices: burgers from $4, salads from $6. Closed Sunday. Tasty's Restaurant, (264) 497-2737, offers chic-casual Caribbean dining in South Hill: dishes like stewed creole-style lobster for $30, and coconut-crusted filet of parrot fish in banana rum sauce for $20. Open for breakfast, lunch and dinner daily, except Thursday. Trattoria Tramonto, (264) 497-8819, has open-air dining and a beach bar on one of the island's prettiest beaches, Shoal Bay West. The Italian menu emphasizes game and seafood, including wild boar filet mignon ($35) and spaghetti with crayfish, clams and shrimp ($30). Lunch and dinner except Monday. Uncle Ernie's, (264) 497-3907, is a quintessential beach shack on Shoal Bay East; open 9 a.m. to 7 p.m. What to Do Taino Wellness Center, off Spanish Town Road, South Hill, (264) 497-6066, www.magma.ca/~phwalker/, offers massages (from $40 for 30 minutes), manicures and pedicures (from $15), facials (from $50), and body treatments. Devonish Art Gallery, the Cove, West End, (264) 497-2949, shows works of local artists, including those by Courtney Devonish, a woodcarver and ceramicist. Open 9 a.m. to 5 p.m. Monday to Saturday or by appointment Sunday. Horseback riding with El Rancho del Blues in Blowing Point, (264) 497-6164 or 497-6334, starts at $25 an hour. JULIET MACUR is a sports reporter for The Times. Copyright 2005 The New York Times Company | Home | Privacy Policy | Search | Corrections | RSS | Help | Back to Top

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Anguilla on $250 a Day
by R.A. Hettinga 26 Feb '05

26 Feb '05

<http://travel2.nytimes.com/2005/02/27/travel/27low.html?8td=&pagewanted=pri…> The New York Times February 27, 2005 HIGH LOW Low: Anguilla on $250 a Day By BONNIE DeSIMONE KNEW the drill. An ever-punctual rooster outside my window would cut loose with a brain-curdling cry at about 4 in the morning. I put a pillow over my head, and, sinking back into sleep, I imagined this same rooster, its internal G.P.S. activated the second I set foot on Anguilla, ruthlessly tracking me down as it had on all my previous visits. I was an old Anguilla hand, but this time on a new and interesting mission: how to live well on $250 a day on a Caribbean island that promotes itself as an elite retreat. Related Feature High: Anguilla on $1000 a Day The key? Chickens have the run of the place, but so do people. Anguilla's staggeringly beautiful beaches are public land, open to all no matter what high-price resort looms nearby. I felt like a reverse infiltrator. That's apt, since the highlight of Anguilla's modern history was its largely nonviolent reverse revolution in the late 1960's, when islanders successfully staved off Britain's attempts to loosen economic and administrative ties. The island remains a British dependency. It's easier to do Anguilla on a budget than it was years ago, and not just because the wake-up calls are free. Luxury accommodations have multiplied, but so have reasonably priced establishments. And it's a challenge to spend money on night life: there's hardly any. On a Friday afternoon in mid-December, I flew from Philadelphia to the island of St. Martin and took a taxi to the port of Marigot, where ferries leave for Anguilla every 30 or 40 minutes. My suitcase was loaded alongside 52-pound bags of dog food and cases of juice, and off we went, grinding through the swells on a 25-minute ride that is not for the faint of stomach. >From the Blowing Point ferry terminal, I took a cab to Lloyd's Guest House, where I'd reserved a single room, including a hot, cooked-to-order breakfast, for $78 a night including tax. Perched atop breezy Crocus Hill, and managed by David Lloyd, whose parents opened the bed-and-breakfast 45 years ago, Lloyd's serves business travelers and savvy tourists. My fellow guests included an artist, two marine biologists and an itinerant financier. During the revolution, partisans irked by the senior Mr. Lloyd's pro-independence leanings fired multiple rounds of ammunition into the hotel's exterior walls. No one was hurt, all was eventually forgiven, and the hotel is an island institution. I asked Mr. Lloyd if he considered selling the business after his parents died. He smiled. "They would come back alive," he said. My spacious, high-ceilinged room had a stone-tile floor, worn but functional furniture and a private bath with a shower and a cold-water sink. There was a television in the room but no phone. (Mr. Lloyd makes his office phone and Internet connection available to guests.) Air-conditioning can be turned on for another $10 a night, but a ceiling fan and an open window sufficed. Some of the 14 rooms are being renovated. My first night, I walked down the short, steep and very dark hill (bring a flashlight) to Roy's Place on Crocus Bay, the quintessential beachcomber's joint, for a terrific lobster salad and a couple of beers ($36), then repaired to the bar to join the island's best ongoing blarney session. On Saturday morning, breakfast was scrambled eggs, bacon and potatoes. My only quibble with Lloyd's was the mix-it-yourself instant coffee; I went British for the weekend and drank tea. A compact rental car awaited me outside the hotel. Mr. Lloyd booked it through Andy Connors's local agency, which delivered it. The daily rate was $35 plus a one-time $20 fee for a temporary driver's license. Driving on Anguilla is a cross-cultural lesson. Islanders drive on the left, use high beams after sundown and routinely pick up hitchhikers. When I was detoured onto a dusty, cratered secondary road because of repaving on the main drag, I stopped to ask two women for directions and was somewhat startled when they opened the door and climbed in. We all got to our destinations. Wanting affluent-looking feet, I had an hour-plus basic pedicure ($40) at the Taino Wellness Center in South Hill Village. Then I took my newly painted toenails for a picnic at Maunday's Bay, near the southern tip and the site of the very upscale Cap Juluca resort. I assembled lunch en route at Wee-Gee's bakery and MacDonna's, a take-out place, stashing a tuna sub, water, a banana and a soda ($10) in a soft cooler brought from home. I parked in Cap Juluca's public lot, spread my towel beneath a sea grape tree, ate, read, took a dip and gazed back at the resort's white Moorish-style villas and perfect palm trees. Sharing space with resort guests is an interesting exercise in etiquette. I wouldn't have been comfortable flopping between the chaise longues where Cap Julucans reclined, and it's not kosher for nonguests to use the chairs during prime beach time. But on previous visits, I've waited until late afternoon when the beach empties, then used the chairs with a wink and no interference from staff members. Next on my agenda was a hike to Shoal Bay West, one beach over. Anguilla's southwestern end features a string of beaches separated by fossilized coral outcroppings. The passages range from easy to dicey and call for long pants and closed-toe shoes with good traction. I walked over on a nonscenic inland path along a pond, emerging on another gorgeous strip of sand occupied by the chic Altamer and Covecastles resorts, the Blue Waters Beach Apartments and a pink mansion once owned by the actor Chuck Norris. After rambling the length of the beach and back, I took a break at the dreamy little open-air Trattoria Tramonto, whose sensory pleasures include colorful tile-and-wood dicor, opera wafting from the speakers and freshly grated nutmeg on the exotic drinks. I ordered a cooling lime daiquiri ($8 with tip) and discussed celebrity sightings with the bartender, who reported that Robert De Niro had stopped in recently. I slowly worked my way back across the point to Maunday's Bay without encountering another person. Footing on the dead coral can be treacherous, and the "trails" are more like random openings in the thick scrub vegetation, but I was rewarded with views of the ocean and St. Martin and the beginnings of a double rainbow. I'd never seen Anguilla on horseback, so I arranged for a private ride ($25 plus $2 tip) at El Rancho del Blues stable near Blowing Point. The facilities are a tad ramshackle and my Dominican guide spoke little English, but my chestnut rent-a-mare, Natasha, appeared healthy and the tack was in good shape. Our eclectic hourlong route wound through a residential area, sunlit fields of high grass and the crowded ferry terminal parking lot before it reached the beach. It wasn't a high-level equestrian experience, but I was content to take it easy. I cleaned up in a gas station bathroom and made my way to the Devonish Art Gallery at West End to attend a reception for an exhibit of antique maps. Over complimentary wine and hors d'oeuvres, I chatted with the gallery's owners, Courtney and Carrolle Devonish, and bought one of Mr. Devonish's woodcarvings, a "touch form" ($20) meant to be cupped in the palm for stress reduction. Dinner had to be inexpensive after my profligacy, so I headed for the English Rose, a tavern in Anguilla's central business district, The Valley. A trencherman's portion of snapper with sweet-tart creole sauce, rice and native peas, canned mixed veggies and salad, a beer and tip came to $16.25. A nightcap at Roy's ($4), and I was ready for bed. On Sunday morning, I chose cereal for breakfast to spare my arteries and drove 20 minutes to Shoal Bay East. It's a one-stop-shopping beach with lots of commercial activity, but still never seems crowded. At Elodia's, a complex that includes villas and a bar-restaurant, I rented a chaise longue and umbrella ($5) and snorkeling gear ($10) and treated myself to a $3 coffee. When a glass-bottomed boat pulled up near the beach, I waded into the water and hailed Junior Fleming, who has worked Shoal Bay East for years. He proposed an hourlong one-on-one snorkeling outing for $40 (less per person depending on the size of the group), then motored to an outlying reef. The current was strong, so Junior literally took my hand and towed me around, pointing out huge schools of blue tang, the odd, long-nosed trumpet fish, stands of elkhorn and fan coral. I hauled myself back aboard wobbly, parched and exhilarated. I rehydrated with a large bottle of mineral water ($4) and strolled to Uncle Ernie's timeless beach-food shack for a cheeseburger, coleslaw, fries and a soda ($8). I read, walked and swam until late afternoon, when the reggae band at Elodia's segued into Bob Marley's classic "Stir It Up," triggering a Pavlovian craving for rum. I nursed a frozen piqa colada ($7), dusted with cinnamon and topped with a maraschino cherry, while watching the sunset. Wanting to dine somewhere with tablecloths without busting my budget, I headed to Tasty's in South Hill. I ordered lobster-and-corn bisque and seafood salad, and washed it down with a half-bottle of French rosi ($46 with tip). I still had money to burn, so I made my now-ritual stop at Roy's before retiring. On Monday morning, I squeezed in visits to several art galleries before going to the CuisinArt resort's Cafi Mediterraneo on Rendezvous Bay for a parting lunch: an entrie-size salad of greens and vegetables from the resort's hydroponic garden and a big bottle of bubbly water ($33.35). As I savored the meal and my lush surroundings, three plump hens stutter-stepped across the patio. A rooster called from afar. Two women sitting next to me started, and one giggled nervously. "At least they keep the floor clean," she said. We budget travelers don't hog the poultry. The chickens, like all the best sights on Anguilla, are for everyone. TWO-DAY TOTAL: $498.25 Visitor Information Getting There Several United States airlines run flights to Anguilla, but most operate in connection with other carriers. Most flights go through San Juan, and the cheapest fares (from about $646 round trip for late March) can require an additional connection in St. Martin. If you fly into St. Martin (from about $561 round trip), you can take a 20-minute ferry to Anguilla ($24 round trip plus $2.75 departure tax from St. Martin and $3 from Anguilla). Ferries run every half hour from 7:30 a.m. to 7:30 p.m. Where to Stay Cap Juluca, (888) 858-5822, www.capjuluca.com, is tucked away on the secluded beach at Maunday's Bay, making it a favorite hideaway for celebrities. Doubles start at $780 a night in the high season, from $445 in April, and $345 from May 1 through mid-November. (Add 20 percent in taxes to all rates.) Malliouhana Hotel and Spa, (264) 497-6111, www.malliouhana.com, is the perfect place to see an Anguillan sunset: it sits atop a cliff facing west over the crystal blue waters of Mead's Bay. Doubles start at $400 from April 1 to 30, and $290 from May 1 to Nov. 19; ocean-view one-bedroom suites are $825 and $660. CuisinArt Resort and Spa, (264) 498-2000, www.cuisinartresort.com, is perched on Rendezvous Bay. Rooms start at $550 a night from January through March, $395 in April, and $350 from May 1 to mid-December. Lloyd's Guest House, (264) 497-2351, www.lloyds.ai, has 14 rooms on Crocus Hill, in walking distance of Crocus Bay. The spacious rooms, some recently renovated, go for $65 to $85, with breakfast. Where to Eat Blanchard's, (264) 497-6100, www.blanchardsrestaurant.com, has a romantic setting overlooking Mead's Bay, and serves food with a Caribbean flair. >From mid-October through May, it opens for dinner at 6:30 p.m. and is closed Sunday. June through August, it is closed Sunday and Monday. Closed Sept. 1 to Oct. 20. Entrees from $34. Gorgeous Scilly Cay, (264) 497-5123, is an open-air restaurant on its own island, with free ferry service from Island Harbor. It is open on Wednesday, Friday and Sunday 11 a.m. to 5 p.m. Since there is no electricity, all food (chicken or seafood) is grilled. Live music on Wednesday and Sunday. Entrees start at $25. Roy's Place, (264) 497-2470, www.roysplaceanguilla.com, is a charming beachcomber's joint overlooking Crocus Bay, with a lively beach bar and an Internet connection for guests (including wireless). There is a Friday happy hour with dinner specials for $12. The Sunday specials are prime rib ($20) and lobster ($38). Lunch and dinner served daily, except dinner only on Saturday. English Rose, (264) 497-5353, a tavern in the central business district of The Valley, serves generous portions of comfort food at reasonable prices: burgers from $4, salads from $6. Closed Sunday. Tasty's Restaurant, (264) 497-2737, offers chic-casual Caribbean dining in South Hill: dishes like stewed creole-style lobster for $30, and coconut-crusted filet of parrot fish in banana rum sauce for $20. Open for breakfast, lunch and dinner daily, except Thursday. Trattoria Tramonto, (264) 497-8819, has open-air dining and a beach bar on one of the island's prettiest beaches, Shoal Bay West. The Italian menu emphasizes game and seafood, including wild boar filet mignon ($35) and spaghetti with crayfish, clams and shrimp ($30). Lunch and dinner except Monday. Uncle Ernie's, (264) 497-3907, is a quintessential beach shack on Shoal Bay East; open 9 a.m. to 7 p.m. What to Do Taino Wellness Center, off Spanish Town Road, South Hill, (264) 497-6066, www.magma.ca/~phwalker/, offers massages (from $40 for 30 minutes), manicures and pedicures (from $15), facials (from $50), and body treatments. Devonish Art Gallery, the Cove, West End, (264) 497-2949, shows works of local artists, including those by Courtney Devonish, a woodcarver and ceramicist. Open 9 a.m. to 5 p.m. Monday to Saturday or by appointment Sunday. Horseback riding with El Rancho del Blues in Blowing Point, (264) 497-6164 or 497-6334, starts at $25 an hour. BONNIE DeSIMONE writes about travel and sports. Copyright 2005 -- ----------------- R. A. Hettinga <mailto: rah(a)ibuc.com> The Internet Bearer Underwriting Corporation <http://www.ibuc.com/> 44 Farquhar Street, Boston, MA 02131 USA "... however it may deserve respect for its usefulness and antiquity, [predicting the end of the world] has not been found agreeable to experience." -- Edward Gibbon, 'Decline and Fall of the Roman Empire'

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