You may look at this heading and go ho-hum. If you visited the hydroponic farm at the Cusinart Resort in Anguilla, you would never utter those sounds of ennui again. I had a total conversion , a moment, and had an epiphany of how I want to spend my elder years. As a hydroponic farmer. Clad in Chanel, bien sur.
I took a few cooking classes there, great ones, by the way, and while we were waiting for something to bake, we were lead on a tour of the hydroponic farm on the property. It was built to provide vegetables for the restaurants in the resort because much of the produce must be shipped in to this tiny island. So to save money, they built this incedible structure, that I am sure cost them loads. I totally get that kind of math, thank you.
I was a little uninterested, but it was
part of the class. (I do not like hydroponic tomatoes and other
veggies very much. They are bland and hard.) But one step inside and it
was like Dorthy opened the door to colorful Oz! I cannot describe the
ingeniousness of this project. It is so thoughtfully laid out. It
flows. No space is wasted.