June 30 - British Virgin Islands Part 3

This will be the final post about the British Virgin Islands. We stayed on Tortola for three weeks, so you might well imagine that I would have lots more to say, but I think that I will finish with these last few memories.

As I wrote before, our cabin had no radio, television or other means of entertainment. However, we were fortunate in that the cabin was almost next door to the local Baptist Church. At least two evenings a week, the Baptist youth group gathered there to practice for a planned musical tour on the US mainland. The singing was absolutely excellent and after supper, we would usually walk down to the church, sit on the fence outside and listen to a free concert.

On the last night before their tour, we listened as the choir master gave the group last minute instructions for their trip. We smiled to each other when we heard him tell the youngsters that they needed to bring packed lunches for the flight. This was twenty-five years ago when the airlines still catered meals to passengers. Looking back now, I see that this choir master was actually ahead of his time. These days we are lucky to get any sort of refreshment on flights.

Lyle and I were especially aware of this on our last trip back from Australia. In pre-COVID days, it was usual to get two full meals and drink service on the long flight across the Pacific. At the beginning of the virus spread in March when we travelled we were given a bottle of water which we were told to conserve as much as possible because there was a limited supply on board. The “meal” consisted of a sandwich, and cookie or square in a plastic take away container. We should have followed the choir master’s advice of 25 years ago and packed our own lunch!

In the Caribbean, storms aren’t unusual and during our stay we experienced one of some magnitude. In the late afternoon, we had watched as dark clouds began to gather and by nightfall, a tropical storm was in full force. The noise of the thunder was deafening and brilliant flashes of lightning lit up the sky. Even though it was dark otherwise, the lightning flashes were bright enough that we could see the ocean through the trees in the cemetery across the road. I have witnessed quite a few storms in my lifetime but I would venture to say that this was the most spectacular.

While the thunder and lightning took our breath away, it wasn’t until we were nearly ready for bed that the wind and rain took up their turn. As they did, we heard another sound – a big bang and a loud rattling noise on the roof. We were just starting to wonder about the sturdiness of our little cabin when we recognized the sound for what it was. Coconuts from the surrounding trees were being whipped off the tree tops and flung onto our tin roof. Bang, rattle, rattle and then a short silence until the next coconut made its perilous journey down the sloped rooftop.

The next morning we saw coconuts scattered all around the yard. Our son tried to crack some of these to get at the fruit inside but they were tough nuts to crack. Each coconut had an outer layer of fibrous husk and no matter how often Jonathan threw the fruit on the ground, it made no difference. Finally a fellow came by carrying his machete and he easily lopped the tops off for us.

I thought of this storm a couple of years ago when I heard on the news that a proper hurricane had passed through these same islands. When I think of the damage that just a tropical storm can do, I can barely imagine the damage and destruction that a hurricane would cause. Very, very sad for the people who lived through the violence and destruction of that hurricane.

Three weeks on Tortola was a great holiday for our family, but there were moments! Our little retreat was remote from busy civilization. This kind of holiday is not for everyone. We realized this one day when we looked outside to see our thirteen-year-old son sitting in the rented car, listening to a Spanish language station on the car radio and rereading for about the third time the three day old newspaper. Perhaps looking back, the experience might have been a lesson in how to cope with the isolation that the virus has now imposed on many of us. We are needing to find alternate activities to fill our days.

There is a picture with this post. Actually it is my favourite from our BVI holiday. The picture shows a vast spread of water and sky, but I see something more. There are four legs sticking up out of the shallow water. Our kids spent some time coordinating underwater handstands for this photo. They succeeded and the photo is my favourite because of the happy memory it evokes.

handstands in the ocean

June 23 - British Virgin Islands Part 2

Aha! You are back and hopefully ready to read more about our British Virgin Islands adventures. As you probably already know from previous posts, I like to travel. I like to see new places, meet new people, and have new experiences. I prefer to do this in person, but on occasion, I also like to indulge in armchair travel. This has the bonus of being convenient, inexpensive and in the present age – safe. So, as I indulge myself in reminiscing about an old trip to BVI, I hope that you will also enjoy some armchair travelling with me. I hope that my descriptions will help you see the things that I saw some twenty-five years ago.

 In my last post, I left off after our trip to Road Town. With the rental car, our range of travel extended exponentially. Along with the car, we acquired a basic map of Tortola and we set off to explore every corner of it. One memorable drive was out to Smugglers Cove. The road turned out to be what can only be described as a dusty track. We weren’t even 100% sure that we were on the right road, but as there wasn’t anywhere to turn around we just kept going. It was worth the trip when we emerged to a beautiful grassy treed area by the ocean. We had a lovely day playing on the sand and in the water. There was even a bar – can’t remember if it was open or closed, but parked beside it was one of Ernest Hemmingway’s old cars. What history!

I don’t remember the names of all the beaches we visited but mostly they were off the beaten track and mostly fairly isolated. At one beach a local fisherman called us over to see a barracuda swimming in the shallow waters. It was a very nasty looking fish with huge pointed teeth. We didn’t go swimming at that beach.

At another beach, we were very surprised to see a line of cows come wandering down the sand. We spoke with one of the two young men who were leading them. Apparently the beach was a short cut from one field to another and the cows made the trek each day to the greener pasture. We didn’t swim at that beach either.

One of our best days was a trip to Virgin Gorda. We took the inter-island ferry to this neighbouring island. Other tourists on the ferry planned to do an organized bus tour but we had opted for independent travel plans. I’m not sure just how we came up with our own plan but we did. We had arranged for a taxi to meet us when the ferry docked and we took off with our picnic lunch and snorkeling gear for a more secluded beach.

When the taxi driver dropped us off at the side of the road he promised to be back in time for us to catch the last ferry back to Tortola. We waved goodbye and then followed a little bush track at the end of which was the opening to a cave or grotto. This was what we were looking for.

Inside the cave there was a short stretch of sand and an area of shallow water to the back of the cave. We had been told that at the rear of the cave there was a hidden exit around the bend in the rock and if we followed this it would lead us to the ocean and then around to an adjacent beach.

I was a bit hesitant but Lyle and the kids were excited and were soon wading out to the hidden exit and whatever lay beyond it. When the three of them disappeared from sight, I gathered up our dry belongings and headed back through the bush to the beach. It seemed like forever before I saw them coming towards me from the waves. They were even more excited than before and encouraged me to swim the ocean loop back to the cave.

Although I’m a pretty decent swimmer, I’m not one for snorkeling. I don’t like the feel of the mouth piece. Anyway, I was talked into doing the trip in reverse. Jonathan and Jenny stayed on the beach and Lyle led me back into the water.

I am so glad that I got my nerve up to do this. The swim was amazing. I think that I have mentioned that my sight was already diminished, but the goggles seemed to magnify the brilliantly coloured fish and coral formations.  Lyle swam beside me to lead me back to the ocean entrance of the cave. It was fantastic. When we finally caught the ferry back to Tortola, while the other tourists were talking about the fish they had eaten for lunch, we were still filled with the remembrance of the fish and coral formations we had seen underwater.

 We had another chance to do some snorkeling when we took a sail boat around some of the smaller islands. Because of the cancellation of another family, we ended up being the only passengers on board and we had a gloriously relaxed day. The boat was crewed by the owner/captain, his friend and eight-year-old son. Around noon, the captain dropped anchor near a small, uninhabited island. He invited us to put on our snorkeling gear and explore while he prepared our lunch.

Once we climbed down the boat’s ladder, we found ourselves in the middle of a school of tiny silver fish. It was like swimming in a capsule. The fish would move out of our way as we stroked forward and then swarm in behind us again as we passed. In retrospect, it’s likely a good thing that there weren’t any larger predators – sharks or maybe barracudas around. Fortunately, I didn’t have this thought at the time and was just able to enjoy the underwater experience.

There are lots of little snippets that stand out in memory of this unique family holiday. I am enjoying remembering so if you are also interested in reading of my memories, I will share a couple more in my next post.

There is a picture with this post. The picture is a view of Cane Garden Bay on Tortola. This is the area where we had our cabin. The ocean was really as blue as it shows in the picture.

Cane Garden Bay on Tortola

 

June 18 - British Virgin Islands

I don’t know about you but I am becoming very tired of TV commercials which insist on reminding us of the uncertain times in which we are living. It seems to me that every second commercial needs to remind us that the world is no longer a safe place. I do appreciate the sensitivity of those who are scripting the ads but enough is enough. If I really want to be depressed, I just need to watch the nightly news.

This then has prompted the subject line for this particular post. Over the last three weeks, I have also been guilty of putting up three posts in a row about COVID-19. I know that the virus hasn’t gone away, but I felt the need to write about something other than this sad topic. So...I am going to tell you about a very happy family holiday of some twenty-five years ago.

Our family trip to the British Virgin Islands was our first holiday after I stopped work. I had reluctantly decided that I needed to take a short term disability leave. This was because of the changes in my vision. However, looking back, I must say that at the time, I could see much better then than I can see now. But enough of that part of my reminiscence!

Now when you start reading this, I should ask you to remember that this was a happy vacation. I write this warning because when you read the first description of our holiday you might easily jump to the wrong conclusion. You should also know that our trip was taken on a bit of a shoestring budget. I think that other travellers might not have had the same experiences that we did.

We began with an excursion airfare that took us on four different flights before we arrived in BVI. The last leg was the most interesting. Leg 3 was delayed and so we arrived in San Juan with minutes to spare for the last flight to Tortola. The gate agents took a cursory glance at our documents and told us to run to the plane which was parked on the tarmac with propellers turning and engines running. The flight attendant greeted us

and told us to sit anywhere there was a seat. This, I am 100% sure, would never happen in today’s world of security precautions.

We arrived in Tortola near midnight. The customs agents who were on the last shift of the night, were not pleased to see us – especially as we didn’t have the proper documentation and our luggage hadn’t arrived with us. This was all supposed to happen at our last flight transfer. The officials eventually let us go and we boarded the only taxi at the stand.

The “taxi” was actually a truck and we were seated on benches on the flat bed behind the cab. The drive across the island to our accommodation was interesting to say the least. The truck’s headlights were dim and there weren’t any streetlights. The truck/taxi zigzagged up the hairpin turns of a mountainside, swerved to avoid several animals that were meandering across the road, and finally pulled up in front of a cluster of three cabins across the road from a local cemetery. The cabins were also in darkness but our taxi driver assured us that we would find the door key in the drawer of the bedroom nightstand. Lyle, brave soul, went first to lead the way.

We were hot, tired and thirsty. Lyle made a foray down the street to where we could hear some music. He found a bar and purchased four cans of Coke. This was at the exorbitant price of US$6 each. Basically this blew our food budget for the day.

Inside the cabin I wasn’t impressed to find a dead lizard on the bed sheets although later in our stay we noticed many of these harmless little critters around the place. Our son and daughter were even less impressed when they saw a small scorpion in the bathroom and a line of ants crawling up the kitchen wall. We couldn’t get the overhead fan to work at more than low speed and the bulb in the bedroom light burnt out when we flicked the switch. It was a good thing that we were all so tired. We went to bed almost immediately, although it was a bit of a restless night.

Things usually look better in the morning and so it was for us. The morning temperature was more moderate than the exhausting heat of the night before. The cemetery didn’t look as sinister and if we looked hard we could see the ocean through the cemetery trees. Mid-morning we had a visit from Sara, the local woman who kept an eye on the cabins when they were vacant. She gave us a brief orientation of the area and then gave us the most delicious loaf of coconut bread. We were famished and ate it down to the last crumb.

Amazingly, Sara baked her bread in an outdoor brick oven. We bought it often but learned to eat it all on the day of baking. Without preservatives it was usually rock hard by the next day.

On Day 1 we were still without luggage. On Day 2, we were still without luggage. Finally, on Day 3, we were told in a phone call that our suitcase would be delivered to Stan’s place. When pressured for a time frame, the response was simply later on! The later on was never clearly defined. Stan’s place turned out to be a beach bar in walking distance from our cabin. Late that night we finally were able to retrieve the lost suitcase and finally change out of sweaty clothes. The good side note to all this is that we always travel with a swimsuit and change of underwear in our hand luggage so we were able to enjoy those first three days on the beach.

It was a good first week. We walked everywhere we could. We found a very small corner store not too far away and so were able to buy a few essential groceries. The store was close to a nonworking rum distillery. In the other direction along the beach was the bar and restaurant where Lyle had bought the expensive Coke of our first night. The menu offered a virtual smorgasbord of wonderful fish dishes. Eventually we did break down and give in to the extravagance of a meal there. It was a good as the menu suggested.

However, at the end of our first week we were starting to feel a little isolated. We were the only tourists in the area. Twenty-five years ago, we didn’t have cell phones or ipads.  To use the phone we needed to walk to the pay phone at the corner store. There was no radio or television. The newspaper at the local store was usually three days old.  We were feeling out of touch and also we didn’t feel that we were seeing enough of the island. We needed a car!

Lyle caught the local bus back across the island to see what he could find. He wanted an automatic gear shift and initially was disappointed with the standard shift that he was given.

Turns out that this was a blessing. The road from Cane Garden Bay where we were staying to Road Town, Tortola’s capital and tourist centre, was steep and winding. At the hairpin curves, drivers would usually lay on their horns to warn any oncoming traffic from around the bend. One or other vehicle would then give way. On one occasion when we had stopped for the approach of another vehicle, the road was so steep that Lyle couldn’t get the tires to grip to continue. He needed to back up to take another run at it. This was all exacerbated by the fact that we were driving American cars but with road rules of the British system. The drivers were on the outside edge of the road and anyone in the passenger seat was in the centre. It was a bit scary when it came to passing oncoming traffic.

Road Town was great. There were shops and people. There was a grocery store and we were able to buy a current newspaper. The city was also the hub for cruise ships and inter island ferries.  Later on we caught one of these same ferries across a short stretch of water to Virgin Gorda. It was a great day trip but more of that in another post.

I am going to stop writing at this point and tell you that in my next post I will be continuing with our BVI adventure. If you like to travel vicariously, that is where I will be taking you.

Stay safe and stay well. Until next time.

Sue

June 10 - COVID Anxiety

As the province and the country begin a relaunch program after the scariness of COVID 19, it is only now that I am having some feelings of anxiety. In the early months of lock down, I kept busy. I found lots of little projects around the house to keep me occupied. Indeed, I am still busy with some of them. My sister in Australia tells me that people in Sydney often refer to these as iso projects – things that people are doing during their home isolation.

Anyway, I have kept busy over these last couple of months. I certainly haven’t been bored. I have kept in phone and email contact with friends and have even had driveway coffee with some of them. So why is it now that I have these feelings of anxiety?

I suppose in a way, these feelings are similar to those I had when I first stepped out on my own after my initial vision loss. The relaunch of phase 1 after the coronavirus is similar in some ways to my personal relaunch into a world of limited sight.

My sight loss was sudden and I didn’t have the special skills I needed to function in a world that was geared to people who could see. I remember the first few times I set out with my white cane. Walking around the block on my own was a huge adventure. I would plan my route before leaving the house. I would try to imagine what I would do if I encountered anything out of the ordinary. I was often filled with anxiety but would feel an inordinate sense of accomplishment if I completed these little adventures successfully.

Now as a society, we are beginning to set out into a new way of doing things. There are masks, gloves and plexi glass screen dividers. We are still to keep our physical distance from others. I can cope with all of this but then there are the markings on the floors of buildings telling us where to stand and walk. How will I be able to manage this? From what Lyle tells me, the arrows are large and I should be able to see them. I don’t know yet. I haven’t been in our local grocery store since the beginning of March.

This is the cause of my anxiety. It is a vague fear of the unknown. I need to gather again the resolve I felt all those years ago when I first ventured out as a partially sighted person. This will just be another challenge. I’m not sure when the time will be appropriate but I know that I will need to gather those same skills of preplanning my adventures outside of my house. Like others who might be feeling similar feelings of anxiety, I will need to gather my courage and learn how to encounter this new challenge so that we can all survive in this new reality.