But for us, it meant moving to another resort (just down the beach a bit). This place looks like Lisa (our hippie almost-daughter-in-law) has already been here, it's definitely where she belongs.
It's difficult to photograph with all the bits and pieces hanging everywhere, and the shady open restaurant with wooden floors and clean wooden tables. They have some sort of a special deal where people can stay there as "staff", and so there always a number of keen helpers around to serve in the restaurant.
We didn't actually stay there, we booked one of the new cabins in another resort through Hans, the chap running the European place, but that sort of gave us the run of both resorts.
When we first moved into our chalet we could hear a cat yowling - nothing new there, this place has lots of cats, none of them specifically 'owned' by anyone but generally friendly and often adopted (or else they adopt people).
But the crying cat near our cabin continued all day and into the evening. When we finally paid attention, we realised there was a mother cat - we could see her prowling around heavily in milk - and a young kitten somewhere calling pitifully.
We soon discovered a locked bathroom in the closed resort where the kitten was trapped, but when we asked around we were told simple "no key". So all night the little kritter cried (without becoming weaker as we had thought it would) and the mother prowled around.
In the morning in the restaurant they asked if we had slept well, and we mentioned the kitten. One of the European girls was immediately concerned - she was quite familiar with the mother cat and knew where its nest was with the second kitten.
When the chap got the roofing off and looked inside he was very surprised to see that the tiny kitten was actually in the toilet bowl in the bathroom - no wonder it hadn't become weak from dehydration, and maybe that was also why mother cat wouldn't go down to it.
It was a relief for all of us.