Our journey, Chapter 5: Blurring the lines
Mike and Lori once again offered to be our tour guides on Thursday, suggesting we go to The Windmill for cocktails at sunset. Mike had rented a car and showed skill and confidence while driving on the left. I have neither. More importantly, Natalie is absolutely convinced I have no business behind the wheel of a car being positioned with the driver’s shoulder juxtaposed to the shoulder of the road. She’s probably right, but I’m eventually going to have to risk it if we’re going to live anywhere that has adopted driving on the left. For the time being, I’m practicing crossing the street. Look right, left, then right before crossing. (Think about it! Not what we’re used to. But, if you don’t do it before stepping off the curb, you may end up like a bug on a windshield.)
The Windmill was positioned high on a hill overlooking the sea with St. Thomas in the distance. Even though the evening was hazy, the view was everything we had been told it would be. There was live music. I’m certain the singer was as talented as she was loud, and she was loud. It was a good thing the vista was so beautiful because we soon realized shouted attempts at conversation were resulting in each of us working on our lip-reading skills. The music stopped as the sun slipped below the horizon, and just as quickly the server presented the check then ushered us out. Not a bad business model: Cram people into your space from mid-day until the sun sets, then point them to the exit and go home early with pockets bulging from the day’s receipts.
Shambles, where we had a casual dinner, is another open-air bar and restaurant just downhill and across the street from The Windmill. I had been faithful to my decision to not eat red meat or fried food on this trip until that moment. The burger and fries I had were a gastronomic masterpiece fit for a gourmand. And, they were perfectly complimented by the ice-cold Carib. Okay, the food was good, but I probably enjoyed it more because I had eaten so much mahi for over two weeks. Shambles also had live music. However, unlike The Windmill, this music was wonderfully in the background.
Showing their interest in public safety, Shambles provided helpful instructions about what to do in the event of a hurricane. Considering the heightened risk of such an event in the Caribbean, especially this time of year, we really appreciated their advice.
We said goodbye to the Westin the following morning and made our way to Gallows Point. I have heard rumors they used to hang pirates here, but have also read that never happened and no one knows how this spot was named. I prefer the legend of it being a place of pirates’ demise. More interesting.
Since we had to check out of the Westin before ten and our room at Gallows Point wouldn’t be ready until four, we left our bags and walked the short distance to the bars and shops of Cruz Bay.
Because it had been at least twelve hours since our last taste of alcohol, and I’m pretty sure there is a law in the USVIs requiring the consuming of some type of liquid courage a minimum of twice daily, we stopped at the first bar we came upon. It was right on the beach, which probably explains why it is named The Beach Bar. I wanted to access the WiFi there, so I asked for the password, and was told, “buymoredrinks”. How great is that?
There is an appealing seediness to Cruz Bay. I mean that in the most complimentary way. If you think of one of the early James Bond films with Sean Connery and recall the scenes that were in the Caribbean, you’ll immediately understand. (And, yes Bob, I wrote this while practicing my best Connery imitation.)
We walked around the town, exploring shops and buying a cap to replace one I had lost in a sudden gust of wind on our sailing trip to Jost, then again met Mike and Lori for – you guessed it – lunch and drinks, this time at High Tide, which is also on the beach.
I met Kelly, the woman who owns High Tide with her husband. She told me they had moved to St. John from the States several years ago. Kelly said they used to go to High Tide every evening for drinks. After a few years, their lifestyle was adding to their waistlines. (Kelly’s words, not mine.) When her husband learned the owner of High Tide was going to move to his previous home island because his wife was expecting a baby, Kelly and her husband decided to buy High Tide. She said working there helps keep them in shape. Not to get ahead of myself, maybe Natalie and I should buy High Tide when Kelly and her husband decide to retire…
After lunch, we explored more of Cruz Bay and shopped before going to an ice cream store where Mike and Lori know the owner. Of course, in addition to ice cream, they sell cocktails. Doesn’t every ice cream store? Lori made Painkillers that left me without any pain whatsoever.
Are you starting to see a pattern to this day?
We had appetizers at a new restaurant called The Hideaway. It is operated out of an old shipping container with outdoor seating. Before you turn up your noses, it was very cool. We would have had dinner there, but they were fully booked for the night.
Our last stop was back at The Beach Bar to grab dinner. I remember more music, but little else. By that time, I was pretty well maxed out. It was all Lori’s fault. That Painkiller did me in.
No, the blame is all mine. Mike and Lori parted company from us after dinner since they were headed to St. Croix the next morning via seaplane. (I’m so jealous. Have always wanted to fly in one.) Natalie guided me back to Gallows Point for a good night’s rest and the start of my detox regimen.
One of the dangers of island life is the risk of blurring vacation behavior with day-to-day living. This first day in Cruz Bay excepted, we’ve been pretty good at not confusing the two. Having now left resorts behind, this week at Gallows Point and the next two at Cowpet Bay will be telling. One thing that I have learned from this experience is I don’t really want to live within walking distance of a lot of bars and restaurants, so that will change our home search algorithm.
Oh yeah, we’re scheduled to see three houses on Tuesday, none of which are in town.