Just yesterday I was griping about shopping in Seychelles. Today, however, a usually frustrating trip to town has me relishing life here ... and the funny way we shop. (Not that I'd be finding relish, or anything like that, though.)

First stop was the post office over the island in Anse Royale where my PO Box is. While checking for mail, I couldn't help but notice a big old safe casually dumped outside the door. It's about three feet tall and at least a hundred years old, very heavy and, well, rustic, with "The Birmingham Safe Company" embossed on its door. I asked about its fate and all reports had it well on its way to the dump.

No one wanted to take my, "Can I buy it?" seriously at first, but when they realized I meant it, that I really want this bit of official detritus, they pointed me toward the office of the Registrar of the Supreme Court whose office appears to be in charge of such things. A quick phone call, and some convincing, has them now working on making this mine. I'm very pleased. I'd asked if it has a key, and it does. Turns out, however, that the key no longer does anything. That's okay by me. It will look lovely with a lamp on it.

On into town, and I noticed the queue outside the new supermarket is no longer miles long, but simply extends about a hundred meters from the door. Seems it should be shorter today, as last night's news had it that just about everything was gone. That didn't take long!

The last stop on our way home was the Mini-Bazaar ... a combo butcher/green grocer/ small items shop. I was looking for yoghurt, since there's been napa, Creole for "we ain't got none and don't even ask when we will have any", in the country for more than a week, but this place has been known to have when others don't. Plus, Gay needed butter, which has also been in short supply. A quick look around let us know that there was none to be found here, either.

Natalie, the young girl who basically runs the place, was concerned when we swept in, glanced, then prepared to leave. She clucked sympathetically when told we were on the hunt for butter and yogurt, then whispered to a coworker. He slipped into the back room, then surreptitiously handed over one butter and two small yoghurt tubs which Natalie then jammed into sacks for us before any other customers could see that she was selling the private stash.

And that was Seychelles shopping today.

I'm sure this is helping me keep my edges sharp. After all, anyone can walk into Costco and get what they want. It takes fortitude to hunt yogurt.