Caribbean Blues
So...I went to my first tropical island.
Now *TECHNICALLY* all the beaches we went to were on the north side of the island, so we were actually swimming in the Atlantic, not the Caribbean Sea, which was a slight and minor letdown, but you know, potato potato.
But as with all trips and vacations, I'm so glad I went and don't regret it one iota.
Plus, I mentally appropriated it as my own celebration trip to acknowledge the fact that I had finished my master's thesis, so maybe it was actually well-timed??
My friend Erika and I darted away to St. Thomas for a quick sandy and salty weekend, and it was so much fun.
We Airbnb'd with a cute American couple who lived perched way at the top of one of the steep, steep hills that characterize the island. None of the streets were labeled or numbered or anything, so we could only explain it to taxi drivers by the chain restaurant at it's base, Chester's Chicken, or as it was commonly known, Chesstah's Cheekin.
Don and Sarah had a cozy little space carved out for us that included two cute twin beds in very close proximity, some gauzy mosquito netting, and an adorable (but OUTSIDE) bathroom without any doors. It felt so romantic and dreamy to wake up with the sun and step out onto the deck while we brushed our teeth, gazing at the ocean in the distance.
Sure, romantic and dreamy until you walked in late at night to find lizards in the sink and FROGS IN THE TOILET. All part of the adventure, I guess.
Our first night there, we grabbed pizza at a little joint in Red Hook called the Caribbean Saloon and then we may or may not have hitchhiked to the Sapphire Bay beaches to dig our feet in the sand and listen to the waves lap up against the shore, the inlet lit only by moonlight.
On Sunday, we spent the first part of our morning on Coki Beach, a little cove that abutted against some local shops and stands. It wasn't the biggest beach, but we found a shady spot near the iguanas, and reveled in the view of the white sand and the pristine turquoise water of the bay.
Our Airbnb parents had recommended some other beaches to us as well, so we explored a few other venues. Margaritaville, with its pastel buildings and buttoned-up cleanliness, looked like an out-of-place movie set. However, like several places on the island, this particular resort and beach were still going through the restoration process after being damaged by the debilitating hurricanes from the previous summer, so it wasn't very populated and the beach itself wasn't open.
The Sunday we were there was Mother's Day, and everywhere we went the locals greeted us accordingly. Though we were warned about a couple seedier areas of town to avoid, on the whole, everyone was super kind, friendly, and welcoming to us. Everywhere we went, locals greeted us and wished us well, even the children, without trying to sell us anything or be threatening in any manner. It was disarming at first, but quickly became refreshing.
We wandered around, picking up snacks and food before heading over to Lindquist Bay, a private beach we had to pay to enter. However, this area was the nicest we had visited yet. Though many of the palm trees had been destroyed in the storms, there were a few smaller trees and bushes that offered shade along the perimeter of the sandy shore, and the view of the bay before us was absolutely breathtaking. I had never seen water so bright blue and inviting. We swam in the salty ocean and dried off on our towels under the trees, napping and reading and talking, alternately taking dips, drying off, and doing it all again.
Erika pointed out how our beach visits that day were somewhat like the PLAGUE that is dating. Our first visit to Coki Beach had been exciting and enjoyable because it was our first daytime exposure to the island, the beaches, and the ocean. The water was gorgeous, and even though there wasn't much shade and we were joined by iguanas and roosters, it was overall an enjoyable morning.
But then, out of curiosity for what else the island had to offer, we left and went to Lindquist. Sure, we had to pay to get in, (NOT a prostitution reference!!) but because it was somewhat exclusive, the area was less populated, cleaner and quieter. We had been happy and content on Coki, but curiosity about what else was out there had led us to Lindquist. And we were so glad it had, because if we'd stayed at Coki, we wouldn't have known what else was out available during our island stay.
Monday we took a little day trip St. John, which we'd heard was slightly more touristy than St. Thomas. We took a ferry ride over, and I felt exhilarated to have the wind whipping my hair and to be out on the open sea, if only momentarily. We were more interested in visiting the beaches than in shopping, so after consulting some maps and asking opinions of the locals, we took a mile hike through boa constrictor-infested trees (yes!!) to Solomon Bay. Probably because of its secluded nature, this beach was still fairly damaged from the hurricanes. There was minimal shade and lots of stabby rocks and coral to get to the water but DAAAAAANG THAT WATER WAS SOMETHING ELSE. We had the water and the beach and the bay to ourselves, and it was positively unreal. How could this place actually exist? How could it be so serene and perfect and beautiful and possible for us to actually be there????
**disclaimer: in case you haven't noticed, these photos are a paltry reconstruction, and in no way compare to the actual Virgin Island views. sorry to be such a disappointment.
Even though the water was beautiful, I was burnt like a crisp little potato/potato chip and in desperate need of shade, so we hiked some more over a rocky peninsula and through the woods to Honeymoon Bay on the other side. This beach was more populated, but nicer and well-restored. There was a concessions stand, a souvenir shop, and a place to rent paddle boards and snorkeling equipment. Having never snorkeled in the ocean, I went for it. Of course, this required me to literally face my fear of fish, but I did it with poise and aplomb. Overlooking the reality that I was putting a snorkel in my mouth that many other people had used, it was exhilarating and otherworldly to see the marine life below the water's surface. Luckily, I was done snorkeling by the time the manta rays came around.
Unless we sat beneath the covered patios, there was minimal shade at this beach as well, so I trekked up a little ways away from the water and set up camp under the shade of a big woodsy tree. I was woken up from my nap by hordes of loud sunscreen-slathering families streaming onto the beach from a nearby cruise ship that had come to port on the island. They totally took over my shady spot without permission, and so Erika and I soon ducked out. We got dinner at two-story open air pub (that unexpectedly had amaaaazing carnitas), followed by some incredibly disappointing and watery fro-yo on the beach by the marina before taking a very silly and giggly ferry ride back to St. Thomas.
Tuesday was our last day in the Caribbean, which we spent at what was heralded to be the nicest beach on the island, Meghan's Bay, and had received the most expensive and elaborate restoration efforts since the summer storms.
Again, it was a private beach, and the sandy shore stretched for about a mile of coastline, wrapping around the inlet area of the secluded bay. The palm trees had been uprighted, there were generous shady pavilions and patios, a nice restaurant, and incredible water views.
One last time, we luxuriated in the view and the crystal clear water, dipping in occasionally to cool off, laying out to dry, and repeating. We walked along the whole shore, stopping to get frozen fruity drinks and pizza before coming back to our towels to read.
And then the tourists started coming by the LITERAL BUSLOAD. In they burst, noisily taking over our pavilions, setting up shop, smoking, asking us for tanning oil, and effectively edging us out of the quiet and relaxing afternoon we'd planned.
Well if this wasn't a parallel to colonialism, what was??
So Coki Beach had been nice, but we had to leave it in order to experience the other beaches.
Margaritaville was abandoned and kind of a bust, so whatever.
Lindquist was fantastic - beautiful scenery, only moderately populated, and probably our favorite beach of the trip.
Solomon Bay was gorgeous, but rocky and not very shady and a little difficult to access.
Honeymoon Bay was also beautiful, if not quite as secluded, and it allowed me to snorkel.
Meghan's Bay was beautiful, but also popular and in high demand.
So...what did we learn?
Sometimes you have to leave one good thing to see what else is out there.
Sure, but more importantly: objective beauty =/= perceived beauty. Whereas Meghan's Bay was objectively gorgeous, the crowds and the tourists made it a less desirable locale. Though Lindquist wasn't the highest rated on the tourist maps, it was our favorite because it worked the best for what we were looking for. In this situation, Lindquist's perceived beauty outweighed the objective beauty of Meghan's Bay.
And, as Erika astutely pointed out, not everyone is looking for the same things. Most of the people we encountered at Coki Beach were locals, and maybe they liked the set-up in that area better because it was farther removed from tourists and had a natural easy-going feel to it that better represented the island.
So, even though we may see ourselves as Lindquist Beaches, that may not be what everyone is looking for or where everyone is comfortable. Wise words, Erika.
Anyhow, apologies for how all of these pictures pretty much look the same.
Now *TECHNICALLY* all the beaches we went to were on the north side of the island, so we were actually swimming in the Atlantic, not the Caribbean Sea, which was a slight and minor letdown, but you know, potato potato.
Granted, it wasn't the best time for me to take a beachy vacation getaway at the very end of my last quarter of grad school and a week before all my final research papers were due, but LYL (live your life) because YOLO, right?
But as with all trips and vacations, I'm so glad I went and don't regret it one iota.
Plus, I mentally appropriated it as my own celebration trip to acknowledge the fact that I had finished my master's thesis, so maybe it was actually well-timed??
My friend Erika and I darted away to St. Thomas for a quick sandy and salty weekend, and it was so much fun.
We Airbnb'd with a cute American couple who lived perched way at the top of one of the steep, steep hills that characterize the island. None of the streets were labeled or numbered or anything, so we could only explain it to taxi drivers by the chain restaurant at it's base, Chester's Chicken, or as it was commonly known, Chesstah's Cheekin.
Don and Sarah had a cozy little space carved out for us that included two cute twin beds in very close proximity, some gauzy mosquito netting, and an adorable (but OUTSIDE) bathroom without any doors. It felt so romantic and dreamy to wake up with the sun and step out onto the deck while we brushed our teeth, gazing at the ocean in the distance.
Sure, romantic and dreamy until you walked in late at night to find lizards in the sink and FROGS IN THE TOILET. All part of the adventure, I guess.
Our first night there, we grabbed pizza at a little joint in Red Hook called the Caribbean Saloon and then we may or may not have hitchhiked to the Sapphire Bay beaches to dig our feet in the sand and listen to the waves lap up against the shore, the inlet lit only by moonlight.
On Sunday, we spent the first part of our morning on Coki Beach, a little cove that abutted against some local shops and stands. It wasn't the biggest beach, but we found a shady spot near the iguanas, and reveled in the view of the white sand and the pristine turquoise water of the bay.
Our Airbnb parents had recommended some other beaches to us as well, so we explored a few other venues. Margaritaville, with its pastel buildings and buttoned-up cleanliness, looked like an out-of-place movie set. However, like several places on the island, this particular resort and beach were still going through the restoration process after being damaged by the debilitating hurricanes from the previous summer, so it wasn't very populated and the beach itself wasn't open.
The Sunday we were there was Mother's Day, and everywhere we went the locals greeted us accordingly. Though we were warned about a couple seedier areas of town to avoid, on the whole, everyone was super kind, friendly, and welcoming to us. Everywhere we went, locals greeted us and wished us well, even the children, without trying to sell us anything or be threatening in any manner. It was disarming at first, but quickly became refreshing.
We wandered around, picking up snacks and food before heading over to Lindquist Bay, a private beach we had to pay to enter. However, this area was the nicest we had visited yet. Though many of the palm trees had been destroyed in the storms, there were a few smaller trees and bushes that offered shade along the perimeter of the sandy shore, and the view of the bay before us was absolutely breathtaking. I had never seen water so bright blue and inviting. We swam in the salty ocean and dried off on our towels under the trees, napping and reading and talking, alternately taking dips, drying off, and doing it all again.
Erika pointed out how our beach visits that day were somewhat like the PLAGUE that is dating. Our first visit to Coki Beach had been exciting and enjoyable because it was our first daytime exposure to the island, the beaches, and the ocean. The water was gorgeous, and even though there wasn't much shade and we were joined by iguanas and roosters, it was overall an enjoyable morning.
But then, out of curiosity for what else the island had to offer, we left and went to Lindquist. Sure, we had to pay to get in, (NOT a prostitution reference!!) but because it was somewhat exclusive, the area was less populated, cleaner and quieter. We had been happy and content on Coki, but curiosity about what else was out there had led us to Lindquist. And we were so glad it had, because if we'd stayed at Coki, we wouldn't have known what else was out available during our island stay.
Monday we took a little day trip St. John, which we'd heard was slightly more touristy than St. Thomas. We took a ferry ride over, and I felt exhilarated to have the wind whipping my hair and to be out on the open sea, if only momentarily. We were more interested in visiting the beaches than in shopping, so after consulting some maps and asking opinions of the locals, we took a mile hike through boa constrictor-infested trees (yes!!) to Solomon Bay. Probably because of its secluded nature, this beach was still fairly damaged from the hurricanes. There was minimal shade and lots of stabby rocks and coral to get to the water but DAAAAAANG THAT WATER WAS SOMETHING ELSE. We had the water and the beach and the bay to ourselves, and it was positively unreal. How could this place actually exist? How could it be so serene and perfect and beautiful and possible for us to actually be there????
**disclaimer: in case you haven't noticed, these photos are a paltry reconstruction, and in no way compare to the actual Virgin Island views. sorry to be such a disappointment.
Even though the water was beautiful, I was burnt like a crisp little potato/potato chip and in desperate need of shade, so we hiked some more over a rocky peninsula and through the woods to Honeymoon Bay on the other side. This beach was more populated, but nicer and well-restored. There was a concessions stand, a souvenir shop, and a place to rent paddle boards and snorkeling equipment. Having never snorkeled in the ocean, I went for it. Of course, this required me to literally face my fear of fish, but I did it with poise and aplomb. Overlooking the reality that I was putting a snorkel in my mouth that many other people had used, it was exhilarating and otherworldly to see the marine life below the water's surface. Luckily, I was done snorkeling by the time the manta rays came around.
Unless we sat beneath the covered patios, there was minimal shade at this beach as well, so I trekked up a little ways away from the water and set up camp under the shade of a big woodsy tree. I was woken up from my nap by hordes of loud sunscreen-slathering families streaming onto the beach from a nearby cruise ship that had come to port on the island. They totally took over my shady spot without permission, and so Erika and I soon ducked out. We got dinner at two-story open air pub (that unexpectedly had amaaaazing carnitas), followed by some incredibly disappointing and watery fro-yo on the beach by the marina before taking a very silly and giggly ferry ride back to St. Thomas.
Tuesday was our last day in the Caribbean, which we spent at what was heralded to be the nicest beach on the island, Meghan's Bay, and had received the most expensive and elaborate restoration efforts since the summer storms.
Again, it was a private beach, and the sandy shore stretched for about a mile of coastline, wrapping around the inlet area of the secluded bay. The palm trees had been uprighted, there were generous shady pavilions and patios, a nice restaurant, and incredible water views.
One last time, we luxuriated in the view and the crystal clear water, dipping in occasionally to cool off, laying out to dry, and repeating. We walked along the whole shore, stopping to get frozen fruity drinks and pizza before coming back to our towels to read.
And then the tourists started coming by the LITERAL BUSLOAD. In they burst, noisily taking over our pavilions, setting up shop, smoking, asking us for tanning oil, and effectively edging us out of the quiet and relaxing afternoon we'd planned.
Well if this wasn't a parallel to colonialism, what was??
So Coki Beach had been nice, but we had to leave it in order to experience the other beaches.
Margaritaville was abandoned and kind of a bust, so whatever.
Lindquist was fantastic - beautiful scenery, only moderately populated, and probably our favorite beach of the trip.
Solomon Bay was gorgeous, but rocky and not very shady and a little difficult to access.
Honeymoon Bay was also beautiful, if not quite as secluded, and it allowed me to snorkel.
Meghan's Bay was beautiful, but also popular and in high demand.
So...what did we learn?
Sometimes you have to leave one good thing to see what else is out there.
Sure, but more importantly: objective beauty =/= perceived beauty. Whereas Meghan's Bay was objectively gorgeous, the crowds and the tourists made it a less desirable locale. Though Lindquist wasn't the highest rated on the tourist maps, it was our favorite because it worked the best for what we were looking for. In this situation, Lindquist's perceived beauty outweighed the objective beauty of Meghan's Bay.
And, as Erika astutely pointed out, not everyone is looking for the same things. Most of the people we encountered at Coki Beach were locals, and maybe they liked the set-up in that area better because it was farther removed from tourists and had a natural easy-going feel to it that better represented the island.
So, even though we may see ourselves as Lindquist Beaches, that may not be what everyone is looking for or where everyone is comfortable. Wise words, Erika.
Anyhow, apologies for how all of these pictures pretty much look the same.
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