A taste of Charlottleville
A taste of Charlottleville . 
Recently, I was invited to have a table at the Charlotteville Methodist Primary School’s first-ever career fair for their students, between the ages of five and 13.
As I am involved in writing, filmmaking, art and other creative pursuits, they asked for the focus of my table to be Media & Arts.
As animal rescue and welfare are also passions/pursuits of mine, I decided to use those as themes to show the children how to use "media" to raise awareness.
Thankfully a friend came to assist me, which made working with groups of excited children more manageable.
With a small group of children, aged five-nine, I created a video, filmed partly by me with my camera, and by one of the students (eight-year-old Kaija Dillon) to whom
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A taste of Charlottleville

A Charlotteville street dog observes Miss Riba's Saturday morning menu. - Photo courtesy Elspeth Duncan

Recently, I was invited to have a table at the Charlotteville Methodist Primary School’s first-ever career fair for their students, between the ages of five and 13.

As I am involved in writing, filmmaking, art and other creative pursuits, they asked for the focus of my table to be Media & Arts.

As animal rescue and welfare are also passions/pursuits of mine, I decided to use those as themes to show the children how to use "media" to raise awareness.

Thankfully a friend came to assist me, which made working with groups of excited children more manageable.

With a small group of children, aged five-nine, I created a video, filmed partly by me with my camera, and by one of the students (eight-year-old Kaija Dillon) to whom I loaned a small handheld video camera.

>

The video shows the children’s reactions to a "before and after" canine-rescue case. (To view it, search Be Kind To Animals (Charlotteville) on YouTube.)

Staying in Charlotteville until Saturday, rather than rushing back south after the event, allowed for some leisure time. Our accommodation was a simple, comfortable, self-contained Airbnb that accommodates three. Located on a hilltop, it offers a fabulous verandah view of the village, surrounding hills and ocean. The price per night is a steal of a deal.

I woke at 3 am on Saturday and sat on the verandah until dawn. The full moon cast a silvery glow on the water; the lights of the village, some of them twinkling harbingers of Christmas, dotted the landscape.

The silence was a rare experience. Other than the gentle sound of the sea and, occasionally, a light wind through trees, I heard nothing – no barking dogs, no speeding cars or motorcycles, no gunshots, no sirens, as are often heard in the south of the island at that hour.

At about 3.30, with the precision of alarm clocks, the village roosters erupted into a cacophony of crowing. They were followed later by a cocrico concerto, serenading the dawn.

Around eight we headed down to the jetty, as the light was just right for camera work. Having had a craving for bake and something "fishy," I wished such a food offering could be available that early in the village.

My wish was granted; two women were busy setting up a table under a tent across the road from the shoreline. The products on offer were delicious roast bake, smoked herring and cocoa tea infused with sumptuous spices. The affordable pricing was just as amazing as the meal. Whenever in Charlotteville early on a weekend, Miss Riba’s streetside breakfast is a must.

During the time that we were capturing images by the jetty and lower village, we encountered a few children from the career fair.

>

“Hello Miss!” One girl, clutching a purse, was heading to the shop to buy something for her mother. Some boys were going sea fishing; some were making their way up the drain/river to catch crayfish to cook at home.

There was an innocence and politeness in these children that one does not encounter in many modern-day youths. Charlotteville’s children seem like a product of a past era when manners and respect were the norm.

Later, before the long drive home, we visited Fort Campbleton.

While admiring the stunning view of Charlotteville and the ocean, the strong aroma of bread being baked at the house next door wafted our way. I instantly longed for a hot slice with butter and wanted to ask directly for some. Instead, I simply called out “That bread smells great!” to two men sitting on the verandah of the house from which the scent emanated.

One man called back: “The cook coming!”

As fate would have it, she turned out to be none other than Miss Riba, who had made our delicious breakfast earlier. What a small world! She recognised us and gave a warm welcome.

Once again my wish was granted. She gave us each two large slabs of hot, fresh, bread lathered with butter and wrapped in foil, and we bought some of her delicious sea moss punch to wash it down.

Although that stay in Charlotteville was brief, it was sufficient to give us an appreciation of its old-style ways, amicable personalities (those we met) and essence of peace and safety. A friend living there said: “We leave our doors open all day until we go to bed at night.”

Lots of other places can take a page from their book.

>
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Recently, I was invited to have a table at the Charlotteville Methodist Primary School’s first-ever career fair for their students, between the ages of five and 13.
As I am involved in writing, filmmaking, art and other creative pursuits, they asked for the focus of my table to be Media & Arts.
As animal rescue and welfare are also passions/pursuits of mine, I decided to use those as themes to show the children how to use "media" to raise awareness.
Thankfully a friend came to assist me, which made working with groups of excited children more manageable.
With a small group of children, aged five-nine, I created a video, filmed partly by me with my camera, and by one of the students (eight-year-old Kaija Dillon) to whom I loaned a small handheld video camera.
The video shows the children’s reactions to a "before and after" canine-rescue case. (To view it, search Be Kind To Animals (Charlotteville) on YouTube.)
Staying in Charlotteville until Saturday, rather than rushing back south after the event, allowed for some leisure time. Our accommodation was a simple, comfortable, self-contained Airbnb that accommodates three. Located on a hilltop, it offers a fabulous verandah view of the village, surrounding hills and ocean. The price per night is a steal of a deal.
I woke at 3 am on Saturday and sat on the verandah until dawn. The full moon cast a silvery glow on the water; the lights of the village, some of them twinkling harbingers of Christmas, dotted the landscape.
The silence was a rare experience. Other than the gentle sound of the sea and, occasionally, a light wind through trees, I heard nothing – no barking dogs, no speeding cars or motorcycles, no gunshots, no sirens, as are often heard in the south of the island at that hour.
At about 3.30, with the precision of alarm clocks, the village roosters erupted into a cacophony of crowing. They were followed later by a cocrico concerto, serenading the dawn.
Around eight we headed down to the jetty, as the light was just right for camera work. Having had a craving for bake and something "fishy," I wished such a food offering could be available that early in the village.
My wish was granted; two women were busy setting up a table under a tent across the road from the shoreline. The products on offer were delicious roast bake, smoked herring and cocoa tea infused with sumptuous spices. The affordable pricing was just as amazing as the meal. Whenever in Charlotteville early on a weekend, Miss Riba’s streetside breakfast is a must.
[caption id="attachment_1122450" align="alignnone" width="541"] -[/caption]
During the time that we were capturing images by the jetty and lower village, we encountered a few children from the career fair.
“Hello Miss!” One girl, clutching a purse, was heading to the shop to buy something for her mother. Some boys were going sea fishing; some were making their way up the drain/river to catch crayfish to cook at home.
There was an innocence and politeness in these children that one does not encounter in many modern-day youths. Charlotteville’s children seem like a product of a past era when manners and respect were the norm.
Later, before the long drive home, we visited Fort Campbleton.
While admiring the stunning view of Charlotteville and the ocean, the strong aroma of bread being baked at the house next door wafted our way. I instantly longed for a hot slice with butter and wanted to ask directly for some. Instead, I simply called out “That bread smells great!” to two men sitting on the verandah of the house from which the scent emanated.
One man called back: “The cook coming!”
As fate would have it, she turned out to be none other than Miss Riba, who had made our delicious breakfast earlier. What a small world! She recognised us and gave a warm welcome.
Once again my wish was granted. She gave us each two large slabs of hot, fresh, bread lathered with butter and wrapped in foil, and we bought some of her delicious sea moss punch to wash it down.
Although that stay in Charlotteville was brief, it was sufficient to give us an appreciation of its old-style ways, amicable personalities (those we met) and essence of peace and safety. A friend living there said: “We leave our doors open all day until we go to bed at night.”
Lots of other places can take a page from their book.
 
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A taste of Charlottleville