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Caribbean Travel RoundupNewsletter - Paul Graveline, Editor |
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October 5, 2000 Sandals Royal Caribbean is a very nice two story (fewer than 200 rooms) about 5 minutes away from MoBay and the airport. We booked with Tom - Http://www.caribbeantourscruises.com/ - after checking with several other agents. We booked in the run-of-the-house category (hoping for an upgrade but being realistic) and flew out of Dayton (Delta) to Atlanta (Air Jamaica) to Mobay. We departed at 6AM; after attending a friend’s wedding reception the previous night. We laid over in Atlanta for an hour and thirty minutes arriving Mobay at 11AM. We have learned from our travels to just pack (3) carryons, which became 4 on our return. Tom mailed us early Sandal’s hotel registration documents (which noted that we were returning guests) allowing our room to be processed first by the front desk. We went to the workout room restrooms and changed into our swimming suits while our room was being finished. Checkin is at 3PM. We took our carryons and placed them poolside where we could observe them cooled off and had our first of many "Hummingbirds"; from the bar. ;The room was ready by 1:30PM. I had asked at registration if we could have a room in the Windsor block which has been just been refurbished. We were assigned room 72 on the first floor just below the room we had in 1994. We were pleasantly surprised by the new paint combination of sea foam green and bright yellow colors. The tiles were larger squares white and orange. We had sun until 3PM and than the liquid sunshine made its first of many appearances (this is the end of rainy season). Mother nap grabbed us around the throat and forced us on to our bed to take a nap until 4PM when the sun returned in all of its Jamaican glory. Our daily routine quickly became nap, piano bar, dinner and then the nightly entertainment. ;While getting ready the first night, Barb remarked that the bathrooms do not have curling iron outlets, but do have a hairdryer. She plugged it in and had it rest on the little refrigerator. ;Our first night, we ate at the courtyard grill (which was closed several times during the week due to rain). We met Brad and Heather waiting to be seated and had dinner with them. Brad advised us that the mosquitoes the night before ate them alive. I retrieved some repellent from the room just in case. After dinner we felt like the three bears trying to find the right temperature of water to take a whirlpool. One whirlpool was too hot, one was too cold and the one next to the pool was too close to the entertainment. Later in the week, they adjusted the temperatures including the one on the island, which was too cold. The entertainment was very good all week and usually well attended (except for the "HONEYMOONERS"). Sunday night is formal night and the only night you need long pants and a collared shirt. I can tell you exactly where I left my long pants - hanging at home. We missed it! The band played in our bathroom until 11PM. I had forgotten about being so close to the band stage. Day 2, I became a proud owner of a grey (not white which shows all or little smile;), expandomatic, Velcro, Sandal’s name printed in 12; letters on the front, long pair of pants purchased in the gift shop. I just couldn’t get comfortable in them, but could have for 60 points toward Sandals. While walking by the watersports hut, I recognized Orville from Sandal’s Negril (1993,1995). Norbert makes a wicked omelet and gave us a yakee (SP) food history lesson. Norbert told us Christopher Columbus a very bad Mon.; "He killed many Indians on ";. Yakee was the staple food of the Indians and is now protected by the government. We visited the off island pool where the scuba hut is located along with some nude sun bathing. We watched scuba lessons from our floats, drank hummingbirds, and ran into Brad and Heather (again). At about noon, we paddled our plastic boat back to mainland and had our lunch at the beach grill (French fries). It became very dark at 3PM; so mother nap grabbed me again. We went to the General Manager’s party in the piano bar at 5:30 and then headed for MoBay’s beach party with Brad and Heather. We skipped our Bali Hi (Thai restaurant) reservations - (I am not a "HOT"; food fan). The bus leaves on the hour for Mobay and returns on the 45’s. We had a great time playing games and watching the "HONEYMOONERS";. The food was good but not great (desserts were awesome). The four of us ventured to the original swim up bar for a drink and a look at the property. The airplanes constantly reminded us that we would have to go home. They are much louder at Mobay than SRC. Day 3, the early mornings have been bright and sunny. It is worth getting up early and eating on your porch. You can have breakfast delivered to your room every morning. You receive the fax edition of the NY Times in the concierge rooms. I called Negril to let Nelson (our friend since 1991) know we were in Jamaica. Norbert’s omelets, sailing on a catamaran with Brad and Heather, off island for a swim and hummingbird, our French fries at beach grill, nap, liquid sunshine, Barb reading while I napped. Even when it was cloudy, the new yellow walls made the room seem bright and cheerful. We looked at art auction paintings; the courtyard grill was closed due to rain. The staff opened the piano bar doors so we could enjoy the entertainment and keep dry. We played the slots (lost $20) for about an hour. We went to bed most nights by 10:30 PM. Day 4, Another beautiful morning, We had Norbert’s omelets and returned to our rooms. We received a call from the front desk that Nelson Guthrie was waiting for us at the front desk. It was a great surprise. He told us how his son was the "head boy"; of his seventh grade class and had given a speech. We talked for thirty minutes. Security is definitely tighter at Sandals. They would not let him go beyond the lobby, so we sat outside the main entrance. He gave us his cab cell phone number (787-0695). I sent him a 5-year-old analog cell phone last year. In December 2000, analog phones will no longer be used on the island (ONLY Digital). He traded in the old analog on a new $1000US digital phone. We went to breakfast where we ran into Brad and Heather again. They had to check out at 11AM. We told them they could leave their bags and use our room until they left at 3PM. We went to the off island, then lunch; while at lunch a man walked by holding a sign with Brad’s room number on it. He returned to tell us they missed the Air Jamaica Checkin and would have to leave earlier to check in at the airport. Brad told us that the front desk said everything would be taken care of, and the bus would leave for airport at 3PM. We went to main pool, ordered drinks, and watched games while Heather and Brad got ready to leave. We exchanged our email addresses and said "good-bye";. We napped during the usual afternoon rain and got ready for our returning guest night dinner (Wednesday). The returning guests met in the disco for drinks, pictures, cigars or flowers, and sandal necklaces. We received our silver sandals. We had Surf and Turf and the most wonderful chocolate dessert. The dinner was great! After dinner, we went to the talent show consisting of returning guests and playmakers (in the midst of more rain). Sun, water, food and drink made for an early night. Day 5, My body was in shock – no morning sun today – must be "Nap Time";. We went to breakfast. Barb broke her pattern by getting scrambled eggs, while I stayed faithful to Norbert’s omelet. We went to off island to float around the pool and back to main land for french-fries. Do you see a pattern developing? Nope! I just said "NO" to Mother Nap! Volleyball BE my LIFE for the rest of this vacation. We join the water volleyball team consisting of Russ/Lori and Scott/Mary and anyone else who wanted to play. We played water volleyball at 3PM and I played sand volleyball at 4PM. We went to Tokyo Joe’s at Mobay at 7PM. Rain and more rain! I was told I could not wear shorts and get into Joe’s. Barb assured me that I looked just fine in my Sandals expandomatic pants, but I could still see my favorite pants hanging in my closet at home. We got there in a huge downpour, and I counted 9 men wearing dress shorts. Tokyo Joe’s seemed unprepared for this kind of rain. The cooks were standing under large umbrellas while the rain ran into the woks. Most of the food we selected was floating in the bowls. We had the choice of chicken, beef or shrimp along with many different kinds of sauces. The food was very good. I would like to go back when it is not raining so hard; the rain was pushing the smoke into our dining area. Art auction was interesting. First piece sold for $50, and later a duplicate painting was given as door prize. You could collect four coupons from the bartenders all day. Coupons were placed in a box, and a winner was drawn. Room 74 won the painting (we were room 72). I was beat from all the volleyball, so we skipped the charity casino night. The money from casino is given to a local school. Day 6, my body is hurting - sand burns (they need to rotatill the court) and muscle aches from volleyball. The morning is bright and sunny. Vendors have set up shop (Friday), and price negotiations are fast-paced. "No pressure – No Problem", "You can pick them up", "What you want to pay". We went sailing most of the morning and grabbed French-fries for lunch. Barb took dance lessons poolside, while I floated and sipped a drink. I was doing my warm ups for water volleyball. Russ/Lori and Scott/Mary joined us just prior to the 3PM game. I finally met WeRsunbums in front of the beach grill. We had talked on Internet but never met. Lisa has been on almost all the Sandals properties. I was interested in the Antigua property (where they were married). She is a great source of information. Our meeting was short since the game was about to begin. Lightning stopped our volleyball game (we were about to skunk the other team 7-0), and we all received our points towards sandals. We went to our room and waited for sand volleyball. We slept and missed the beginning of the sand volleyball game, which is amazing, since it was right outside our door. The rain washed out the beach party on the island that night, so we had it outside the piano bar. It is amazing how well the playmakers adapt to liquid sunshine. Our team did very well in the games. I strongly suggest you get involved in these games. You DO NOT have to be great athletes. The highlight of the night was the last contest. The men had to get on their knees and promise to do "anything" to gain points for their "honeys". Little did I know what I was promising? We were given 1 minute to exchange clothes with our mates any place on the island. We had an unfair advantage; our room was right there. We dashed to the room and exchanged clothes. The final four couples were Russ/Lori, Scott/Mary, another couple, and us. We had to walk in front of the group and were judged by applause. I was wearing a VERY SHORT dress, which I could not button over my belly. I had to hold the bottom so not to expose myself to the cheering crowd smile;. Russ stole the show wearing a full-length summer dress; the colors matched his eyes. Scott would have won if his shoes had matched his dress. After the competition, we went to the pool to take a late night dip and then went to bed. Day 7, The morning was perfect. We went snorkeling on a reef close to the island. The dive guys threw bread in the water, which attracted fish. I wish I would have brought my own snorkel; many did not have both inside teeth grips. It is a pain to bite down on only one. We ate at beach grill at noon, and, by now, they started dishing up the fries as we approached the grill. We sunned at pool, played volleyball, and got ready to go to Mobay to eat Italian. We had a great dinner at Mobay and recommend it highly (I wore dress shorts and placed my sandals pants on the injured reserve list). I was not the only male wearing dress shorts. Barb wore her long one piece black knit dress. We return to Royal piano bar, had a nightcap, listened to the music, and went to bed at 10:30PM. Day 8, Sunday was our last day. The maid knocked at our door at 8:30 and reminded us that checkout was at 11AM. We got up and packed. We left our room at 10:15 and missed breakfast at Regency (open until 10AM). The courtyard grill (open until 11AM for breakfast) was wet and was moved to the tearoom where we ordered breakfast from a menu. While we were eating, friends told us to make sure we took our beach towels back to the watersports hut and get a laminated card. If you did not have the card, you had to pay for the beach towels during checkout. Mission accomplished with card in hand, my keys, my phone bill, and ID’s; I checked out at the front desk. I presented my Aadvantage American Airlines card to get my frequent flyer mileage. This is the third frequent flyer card I used on this trip (Delta, Air Jamaica and American). Now, I walked right down the main hall to Checkin to Air Jamaica (starts at 11AM). It took an hour and fifteen minutes. The next time, I will have Barb hold a place in line for us at 10:45 or wait until 12:30 when the line is short. DO NOT miss this check in or you will have to go to airport early, as Brad/Heather had to do earlier in the week. Air Jamaica only had one person checking in passengers, and you need to have the right change of either 1000JM or $27US a person for taxes. Make sure you have tickets, money, and marriage license, photo ID’s to check in. One couple was upset because the front desk made them wait to get their free Dalton China sheet stamped and processed. They looked at the china in the Mobay gift shop before selecting their pattern. Scott and Mary let us keep our carryons on their porch and offered us their room to change and shower in. I think their room number was 84 right next to the hot tub. We hung out there and read, since liquid sunshine had returned. We exchanged emails with Russ/Lori, Scott/Mary and headed to catch bus at 3PM. We arrived at airport at 3:30 for our 4:15PM flight, which was delayed until 5PM. We arrived at Atlanta 30 minutes prior to our flight departure. We did not have to wait for luggage (saving valuable time), went through customs, and made the Delta desk as they were boarding our rows. ;We drove an hour home! Sandals Royal Caribbean is a great place with wonderful staff and entertainment. FYI. You can no longer get free golf at the Iron Shore. I encourage you to write to Sandals and have the Spa placed at the "Royal" instead of Mobay or the Inn. I do not think the decision has been made at this time.
"The Arabs here! Yes! We have a very influential Lebanese community in Mérida." Javier Medina Riancho, our tour guide, remarked when I asked him if there were Arabs in his city. He continued, "The Lebanese here are very well integrated into our society, but they look after their own. We like the Lebanese. They do not ask for help from outside their community. They're a hard working people who quickly become Mexicans, but most keep their identity." Medina Riancho went on, "I know! My son is married to a Lebanese. It's a replay of what happened in Spain. I could have Arab blood myself. My name Medina! I think it comes from the holy city of Medina." Medina's view of Mérida's Lebanese is based on the descendants of the early Arab immigrants who emigrated in the early 1900s from the Ottoman province of Syria, part of which is now Lebanon, to the Yucatán, then a poor area of Mexico. At the turn of this century, these Lebanese, who were at that time known as Syrians, came to better their lives and escape the turbulence of the Ottoman Empire, known in that era as `the sick man of Europe'. In the main, they came from poor villages and, like their compatriots in the other parts of the America's, began their lives in the New World as peddlers. Remarkably, soon after reaching Mexico's shores, in this very poor part of the world, they did well. Perseverance, hard work and untiring ambition paid off. Many of them, in a short period of time, became successful businessmen while, in time, their sons and daughters carried on with this tradition. Today, about 30% of Mérida's commercial life is controlled by the descendants of these early Arab immigrants. However, the vast majority are totally assimilated into Mexican society and have virtually no connection with their Arab past. A fine example these sons of Arab immigrants is Mario Mezquita, a Méridan who now lives in Toronto, Canada. When I asked him if he knew that his name meant 'mosque', he replied, "Yes I know! I think my origin is Lebanese." Reflecting for a minute, he speculated. "On the other hand, perhaps, my ancestors could have come from Spain and our family name is a vestige from Moorish times." Yet, in spite of the total assimilation of many of these former Syrian-Lebanese, a good number have preserved a pride in their heritage and, today, form a close-knit community. Even though a fair number only retain the food of their forefathers and a faint recollection of from where their ancestors came, they are the driving force behind the Lebanese community and its impressive club. The Lebanese in Mérida became organized in the latter part of this century. Their first community centre was a rented hall on 63rd street, in the heart of town. Later a number of the affluent members donated money to build a clubhouse on the outskirts of the city. The centre is now the attractive and prestigious Lebanese Club, drawing the admiration of all Méridans. When I entered this impressive structure, which is used in the main for socializing, I asked the man at the front desk in my broken Spanish if there was anyone in the building who spoke Arabic. I do not know if he understood what I was saying, but he motioned for me to follow a man standing nearby. As we were making our way up the stairs, the man pointed to a family climbing at our side. I smiled at the young man, "Hable usted inglés o árabe?" He smiled, "Espańol y inglés solamente." Feeling relieved, I asked him if he could introduce me to an old-timer who could relate to me the history of the Arabs in Mérida. Soon I was sitting on a table talking with Michel Jacabo Eljure and his wife Betty whose family had emigrated from Ain Arab in Lebanon to the U.S.A. Michel had met her in the U.S. and had wooed and brought her back to Mérida. She said that at first she had found it hard to live in Mexico, but she had quickly adapted and now she loved her life in Montezuma's land. Michel, whose father had emigrated from the village of Qăra, located in present day Lebanon and noted for the Arab nationalist feeling of its inhabitants, was a retired businessman who owned a ranch in the Yucatán. He spoke Arabic well and was familiar with the history of the Arabs in Mérida. As he spoke in Arabic and his wife in English, my knowledge about the Arabs in the city increased by the minute. According to Michel, from the first families to call Mérida home and, in the ensuing years, became successful businessmen were the Chapurs, Ibrahims, Dajars, and Xacurs. He went on to say that now their descendants were well-known in the commercial world of Mérida. He stated that even though the Lebanese were only 1% of the city's 1.5 million population, they controlled 30% of the commercial and industrial establishments. In the words of an another older gentleman, sitting at the next table, "Not bad for a people who began their lives as peddlers." As to the religion, Michel explained that the Lebanese were originally evenly divided between Maronite and Orthodox Christians. Today, they are all Roman Catholics with only about 20 families still practising the Orthodox rites. From time to time a priest travels here from Mexico city to administer to these few families' needs. "What about Muslims?" I asked. Michel shook his head, "There are none. At one time, there were a few Muslims and Druze in Mérida. However, now their descendants are all Catholics." He continued, "In my youth I had a Druze friend from the Charruf family. He used to tell his children to attend Catholic services since his people had no house of worship and he wanted them to know God and at the same time become Mexicans." As Michel was talking, I thought of the Arab-Muslims and their tolerance. The Syrian-Lebanese had only been in Mérida for less than a century and they had been almost totally absorbed into the Roman Catholic faith. Yet, in an Arab country like Syria, countless minorities, many, few in numbers, have existed and lived, mostly in peace, for centuries with their Muslim compatriots. Almost every Christian and Muslim sect in the world is found in this country and, with exception of the odd flare up, have lived until our times amiably together - a tribute to the respect the Arab-Muslims have for other religions. With the tolerance of peoples to others in mind, I asked Michel, "Why is it that in countries like Canada multicultural societies are encouraged and here in Mexico its total assimilation?" He replied, "Our society is montholitic. We want everyone to be Roman Catholic and speak Spanish. In our community only about 20 people still read Arabic." He continued, "As for our food, it's another matter. Even a great number of the non-Lebanese in Mérida cook in their homes our kubbah, grape leaves and other Arabic foods. At least we contributed some of our heritage to Mexico - now our beloved homeland."
Trip: 7/00
"Seaborne". That's an odd name for an airline. Odder yet for one
taking you over water. Ought to be more like "airborne", at least if
traveler hopes are taken into account.
For better or worse, Nancy and I were booked on that airline for the
third leg of our trip, St Thomas to St. Croix, a trip started on a
sailboat in the BVIs and described in earlier CTR articles. To assist
with our impromtu travel arrangements, we had a helper at home who
was using phone, fax and internet to keep us on the move. She had
kindly faxed us the particulars, including the time were to be at the
airport for departure.
Belatedly, but in time to avert misdirection, it clicked: "Seaborne"!
We'd been booked unwittingly for the seaplane service to St. Croix.
Airport departure for an airplane is a natural assumption, but an
erroneous one in this case. Ditto for the assumed arrival at the St.
Croix airport where our rental car had been reserved. But regardless
of where the plane was to land, our helper always lands on her own
feet. She promptly brought things back into an orderly alignment. Off
we went by cab to our actual place of St. Thomas departure, the
Charlotte Amalie waterfront. We found the Seaborne Terminal to be
located just where logic and convenience dictated - very close to
where the ferries board.
Seaborne is one of several seaplane/flying boat services in the
Caribbean. As a point of general information, seaplanes [and fresh
water float planes] land on attached pontoons while their first
cousins, flying boats, land on a boat-like fuselage. The latter, I
understand, can taxi right onto the land using retractable wheels.
Flight service of this type is available within the Caymans, Florida
to the Bahamas, and also among the Bahamian Out Islands as well, of
course, as Seaborne's St. Thomas-St. Croix route. Depending on season
and the particular day of the week, Seaborne flies upwards to 18
flights a day using 17 passenger DeHavilland DHC6 Twin Otter
seaplanes.
Check-in went smoothly and we even learned a lesson: travel lightly
when you go by seaplane. We were assessed a $10 overweight luggage
penalty. Our incoming plane landed in the harbor and taxied to the
pontoon boarding area where after 15 minutes or so it had been
readied for us and another ten travelers to board and depart right on
time. Our up front seats and an open cockpit door gave us a pilot's
view as the plane taxied through a slight chop in the harbor, waited
for a few boats to pass and then took off into the wind. The
comfortable, 20 minute low altitude flight took us to northern
coastline of St. Croix. We soon banked to the right for an approach
from the southwest over Christiansted's harbor, facilitating a
descent into the northeasterly tradewinds. Again, we had the pilot's
view as he lined up with the calm, open water, presumably double
checking for boats in the intended path. The pilot knew his business.
It was an easy landing, not unlike a feather on the water, though
accompanied by considerable white spray that for a few seconds
obscured the side view. If you like dramatic entrances, you'll like
the seaplane.
Until earlier this year, the terminal had been located on the wharf
in the heart of downtown Christiansted. But it was moved to a spot
just a little beyond called Watergut where we deplaned. It's walkable
to town but we had our overweight luggage and it had just started to
rain. So we hailed a cab for the five minute ride to the Avis
location at King's Alley where we intended to pick up our rental car.
A snafu loomed. The rental clerk had locked up early, not having
received the reservation notice forwarded from the airport. At many
places this would have been a serious hassle. Not here. The Avis
office is part of the King's Alley Hotel and the desk clerk there
confided he'd always aspired to serve Avis. He obligingly opened the
office, rummaged around until he found some car keys and wrote up a
sort of unofficial contract, telling us that we could "take care of
the paperwork tomorrow". Off we went, to work out the details the
next day by phone and to end up with an upgraded car for the original
price. Actually, the desk clerk was pulling our leg, but only a
little. He revealed he sometimes subs for the Avis clerk, but only
unofficially. Avis ought to give him a nice tip, as we did. We liked
his ingenuity and classically Caribbean practical approach to the
subject. .
Our destination, The Buccaneer, was easily found along the north
coast road, about 10 minutes east of town. Entrance is by way of a
long driveway, flanked by plantings and high trees. The resort itself
is located on a elevated promontory, bordered by golf course and the
sea. The effect is to give the property the look of a spacious,
genteel country club which, at over 300 well maintained acres, it
very much is.
It is accurate and fitting to refer to The Buccaneer as a grand dame
of Caribbean resorts. My reference is not to a stuffy old lady nor an
outdated museum piece. Grand dame is the proper term, as used in the
sense of the Hepburn later years - lithe, stylish, thoroughly
contemporary in appearance, behavior and outlook but unmistakably
suggestive of a fashionable and intriguing past.
The resort dates to 1948 when the grandparents of the current
generation of managers, now the ninth generation of the Armstrong
family on St. Croix, remodeled an historic manor house on the site to
provide 11 guest rooms. Over the ensuing half century it has grown in
size and stature to where it regularly appears on lists of the best
in the Caribbean. The 150 rooms range from oceanfront, super
luxurious to comparatively modest lodgings in the original building.
The top shelf rooms, the newly constructed, 800 square feet
"Doubloons" down by the beach, are where Michael Jackson stayed a few
years ago when he and his entourage visited St. Croix. Those rooms
provide the high end comforts you'd expect, as well as high end
prices. But there is a wide range of intermediately priced rooms with
packages geared to families and couples. These alternatives are
priced competitively with resorts offering considerably less. This,
after all, is a full service place with multiple beaches,
restaurants, swimming pools and the full gamut of golf, tennis and
watersports activities that one would associate with the finest
Caribbean resorts.
I dwell on this subject because I've just read a very fine CTR
article of a few months ago that offered useful tips about visiting
St. Croix. The insightful author had stayed at the Carambola Resort
and, just as we eventually did, had cruised around the island a bit
checking out other resorts which included a visit to The Buccaneer.
Impressions were positive ("definitely lst class, very old world and
appeared to have all the wonderful things we've heard of . . . from
folks we met who were staying there"). The author also obliquely
referred to the perceived tariff, "[But] unfortunately, I don't have
a trust fund". I can fully understand that impression, the place
looks trust fund demanding. But I believe it is safe to say the
Buccaneer's range of rates will satisfy most budgets, and just about
all tastes, when seeking a memorable Caribbean holiday.
Our own, oversized room wasn't where Michael Jackson stayed but it
was the way Nancy and I like our accommodations - comfy, clean,
snazzy and with all the good stuff the hospitality industry calls
fine amenities. The room was situated in one of the older, though not
long ago renovated, sections that was as oceanfront as you could get.
With a private patio overlooking the sea like this one, it wasn't
surprising that Nancy sacked our unpacking plans and we both made a
beeline for the outdoors. There, we enjoyed views of the surf, the
setting sun, and Christiansted in the distance while we made our own
happy hour with the welcoming gift of wine, cheese, crackers and
fruit.
Service was A-l from the start and continued that way. For example, I
couldn't find a corkscrew to open the wine so I called housekeeping.
Within less than five minutes, I had found it at the bottom of the
gift basket and was about to cancel the request when there was a
knock on the door with a second you-know-what.
Dinner was in the restaurant known as the Terrace located in the main
building, appropriately called the Great House. The room is aligned
to the northwest, a blessed thing when the subject is viewing
twilight skies. While completely covered and protected from the
elements, the dining room is fully open on one side thereby offering
the same splendid views we had from our patio, though dramatically
enhanced by virtue of elevated vantage. Our table was just right for
outside and inside views, the latter of a commodious, high ceilinged,
nicely appointed space laid out in a grand hotel dining room style.
I'd say it was about 3/4 full at this off-season time. Diners seemed
a mix of couples, families with kids and a few groups appearing to be
business persons or possibly golfers. The dinners were reasonably
priced, well served and satisfactorily prepared. After dinner, we had
drinks at the Terrace Bar and listened to the piano entertainment.
Next morning we returned to the Terrace for breakfast. It's included
in the rates but there's certainly no skimping. A long buffet table
groaned with a variety of hot and cold selections, ranging from full
American breakfast favorites to Caribbean specialties. It breaks our
hearts to see breakfast buffets like this. We'd so very much like to
wade into them but all that food would be like an anchor to hold us
from our ambitious daily projects.
Properly fortified, we decided to tour by car. The same issue always
arises on these trips: which is best, when the time is limited, to
tour by rental car, by private cab/van or bus/organized tour? There
is no universal answer, it really depends on the terrain, the quality
of roads, the traveler's preferences and the pricing alternatives.
But there are some general principles. For example, it would be
crazed in my view to tour Grenada or St. Vincent for a single day or
two by rental car. The roads are poorly marked and often in bad
shape; you'd miss too many good spots due to unfamiliarity and risk
of getting lost. In a similar vein, the roads of Tortola are ok but
you must brace yourself for hair raising conditions. I sort of enjoy
conditions like this, others might not. You drive on the unfamiliar
left side, up and down the steep hills where the roads are narrow,
the pitch acute and the curves not curves at all but sharp, abrupt
turns without guardrails. St. Croix, on the other hand, has a road
system akin to that of mainland U.S. Even with driving on the left,
the roads are easily navigated by the visitor. Anyway, a rental car
was our choice and we ended up having no regrets.
We meandered the 10-12 miles along the East End Road (Route 82) to
Point Udall, the easternmost point of the United States (in the
Western Hemisphere). En route we stopped to check out the Green Cay
Marina and its very pleasant and well maintained house hotel,
Tamarind Hotel. Sailing magazines warn that slips must be reserved in
advance at Green Cay due to the heavy traffic. From what I could see,
every slip in this attractive marina was occupied on the day of our
visit. The marina has a reputation as a good place to hole up in a
bad storm, a reputation consistent with what we saw of its layout. We
also stopped at the St. Croix Yacht Club which has a smaller, lesser
protected marina. It is a bit south of Buck Island and opens out to
rougher Atlantic waters.
I can't speak for the island as a whole but east of Christiansted
things look pretty prosperous and well maintained. There's no
congestion but it appears considerable real estate development of an
upscale nature is underway. This means encroachment on the grazing
land around here, a vice or virtue depending on your viewpoint. East
of the St. Croix Yacht Club the topography grows open, wild and
desert-like with low hills and no structures at all. This sparsely
settled area looks to be publicly held parkland or perhaps it's just
restrictively zoned. Very pretty, remote and Antillean. Hard to
believe you are in the United States. We drove out to Pt Udall to
look at the recently finished monument marking its national
significance. Dramatic views of the crashing Atlantic surf below.
Short of Pt Udall, there are no real tourist attractions in this
direction but Pt Udall itself made the trip worthwhile.
Heading south, we looked for our next stop, the new Divi Resort and
Casino located on the south coast road. The casino is separate from
the resort, on the landward side of the road, and is set off by what
must be the biggest parking lot in the Lesser Antilles. We thought
we'd do some daylight dice work but discovered that the casino was
open only for slot players. Table games do not open until 6:00 pm, at
least the weekday of our arrival. The casino building and its gaming
area bear the style of a mini-Las Vegas or Atlantic City casino.
There are comparatively few tables but plenty of slots. Though small
by mainland U.S. standards, it is the largest of casinos we've
visited in Puerto Rico, St. Maarten, Antigua, Guadeloupe, Martinique
and St. Kitts. We stopped for a refresher at the nearby multi-story,
beachfront Divi Resort and found it shares the casino's Vegas pizzaz.
Back to the Buccaneer for a late lunch at the Mermaid Restaurant,
another house restaurant, this one ocean side. We decided to postpone
Christiansted itself until tomorrow and, instead, just laze around.
After all, if you're staying at a place like The Buccaneer why not
just enjoy home base for the remainder of the afternoon? We spent the
rest of the day at the beachside pool and the beach itself, doing
largely what Nancy and I like to do best on vacation: essentially
nothing. Modest deviations from our plan for swimming, reading, beach
combing and snoozing were just that: deviations, prompting us to
apologize to each other for our mutual lack of commitment.
Luck was with us. Today, the weekly Manager's Cocktail party was to
be held on the site of a restored sugar cane mill. That meant free
drinks and food which, of course, also meant our inevitable and
timely appearance. It was great fun as Elizabeth Armstrong, the
youthful looking but quite plainly business-savvy general manager,
made everyone feel welcome. We chatted with other guests from the
U.S. and UK. Entertainment consisted of Mocko Jumbie dancers, a
skilled art where the performers wear colorful African- Caribbean
costumes and stand on high stilts. We'd seen this before in Nassau
but without the explanatory short lecture given here. The dance is
very much part of cultural preservation on St. Croix. We were told it
is an honor among young people to be selected for the island's troupe
and its demanding training. The troupe travels throughout the world
demonstrating this intricate skill.
After the cocktail party, we drove via the scenic mountain route to
the Carambola Resort (Sunterra) on the northwest side of the island
for dinner. We arrived just before sunset at this very pretty
oceanfront location. The previously mentioned CTR article details the
author's experience at this property. Our one-night impressions were
in accord with those generally positive observations. We ate outdoors
in a nice setting though we were disappointed with the food, finding
it only so-so. One meal, of course, proves neither the exception nor
the rule.
As earlier implied, I enjoy driving unfamiliar cars in unfamiliar
areas. I would not recommend, however, the "scenic mountain route" to
those not so inclined, at least when racing a setting sun. That route
was imprecisely marked and at places not in perfect shape. However,
as its name suggests the mountain views were scenic and at least for
Nancy and me worth the inconvenience. For the trip back, in darkness,
I stuck with the main roads. No problem.
Next morning we signed up for a nature walk led by the general
manager. Reflecting a St. Croix family pedigree going back nine
generations, Ms Armstrong provided an enthusiastic and knowledgeable
description of the hotel's history, its grounds and horticultural
features. As we listened, I couldn't help but think of a brochure I
had picked up called the "Early Years At Buccaneer Hotel". The
brochure contains the reminiscences of Ms Armstrong's grandmother,
the late Rachel Armstrong Colby, wife of the 1948 founder. Written in
her later years at the instance of her family, it was intended to
preserve on paper the early days of the hotel.
Ms Armstrong's grandmother was there in the early times, the hard
times and the eventually successful times. She had a superb wit: "[In
the early days] if we had an unhappy or unreasonable new guest
arrive, our regular guests took him over as dolphins are said to take
over a body - surrounding him, talking, pushing, laughing or deriding
until he began to behave or left". Her reminiscences prompt me to
realize an affinity with the Cruzans, as the locals are called:
"Cruzans are proud and sensitive people. Their admixture of white
blood is heavily Irish; their black heritage is proud and unservile".
Anyway, all of this provides a fascinating glimpse of the 1950's
Caribbean, an era that must have been wonderful to have been a part
of. Some of the true-life adventures are funnier and more poignant
than those portrayed in the fictional account of running a Caribbean
hotel in that period, "Don't Stop the Carnival".
We took a final swim and then were off to Christiansted. Nancy did
some light shopping in the many interesting stores in the King's
Alley area while I checked out the sailboat anchorage located between
the waterfront and Protestant Cay. Didn't seem to be many cruising
yachts transiently moored or anchored. Most of the boats looked like
they'd been there for quite a while. I suppose most passing yachties
prefer Green Cay Marina.
We made it to the airport with time to spare for the flight to San
Juan and were back in Philadelphia by late evening.
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