The Importance of Being Fed
Anyone who knows me or has read more than a post or two on this blog will know that I love food. It's psychological and physical and emotional -- I know there are those of you out there who feel the same way, because you're my friends -- but there's nothing better than knowing there's something delicious in your future. I probably could write a book analyzing my relationship with food, but let's just say there's a direct correlation between my mood and the availability of good food around me. And by "good" I mean "Haley good," which is usually two steps below what other people think is good. The difference between a horrible 12 hour car ride and a completely fine 12 hour car ride? A stop for french fries and granola bars readily available in my purse. Have to go to a meeting that's going to be really boring? Totally fine with it if there are good cookies present.
There were not many grocery stores or open restaurants on Eleuthera -- in fact, we walked two miles along the beach one day for dinner at the Unique Village Restaurant (seriously, that was its name) only to find that it was closed until December. This is the definition of horrible in my eyes -- I was tired, dirty, and hungry, and I'd anticipated a tasty dinner only to be THWARTED and left with an empty stomach. So we walked two miles back and ate some more hot dogs we'd bought at the gas station on our way in.
But on the 30th we found Tippy's Restaurant & Bar.
There were not many grocery stores or open restaurants on Eleuthera -- in fact, we walked two miles along the beach one day for dinner at the Unique Village Restaurant (seriously, that was its name) only to find that it was closed until December. This is the definition of horrible in my eyes -- I was tired, dirty, and hungry, and I'd anticipated a tasty dinner only to be THWARTED and left with an empty stomach. So we walked two miles back and ate some more hot dogs we'd bought at the gas station on our way in.
But on the 30th we found Tippy's Restaurant & Bar.
Ahhhhhh french fries. Or frites. Whatever. Same thing.
The restaurant was pretty empty and the prices a bit high, but it had a beautiful ocean view and a mix of American and Bahamian food.
I was pretty freakin' thrilled to get my white cheese pizza. Michael had some kind of fish thing and fries, of which I partook.
I immediately felt like the world was a better place having pizza in my belly. Then we got to go back to this view.
And this one of the reef-enclosed pool in front of our house, where the waves were usually calmer when the tide was out.
Ahhhh. Food + beach + reading + nothing to do = heaven. We ended up going back to Tippy's a couple days later, when the other restaurant we were trying to find had no signs and did not seem to exist. There's a lesson for you -- have a sign for your restaurant.