Joy’s
Travel to
Bags checked at
O’hare—everything out of our control now. Phew! A 50-minute wait on the tarmac
(ground stop in
We have a 4-hour layover
in
The plane we take to
We made it just fine
(what a silly thing to worry about). Adolfo, local caretaker of Black Sand Cove
(where we stay) picks us up at the airport and gives us a leisurely tour of the
west side of the island (our cottage is on the southwest corner).
Time in
The gardens surrounding
the cottage are spectacular—bright flowers, lush green plants, mourning doves
cooing, hummingbirds and butterflies everywhere. We can see the ocean from our
front porch and the mountain from our back porch. Each day is sunny and 80-some
degrees, with a nice breeze. (I love the breeze—it cools things down, keeps
bugs away, and the sound of wind through the trees is so comforting.)
My first run is
wonderful. Shorts and a tank top! The sun is warm; the air is moist (but not
too humid). My body and joints feel good in this climate.
There are goats and cows
grazing the land everywhere. The goats are quite cute and also skittish. As I
approach them in the road, they quickly run the other direction. There are also
feral donkeys all over the island (brought here when the island was full of
sugar plantations). They aren’t on our property, but quite near. Every so often
you hear them loudly braying—if they are in the distance, they sound exactly
like Sandpeople. (Mark and I watched a pack of them interact—very interesting
dynamics; lots of backing into each other and kicking—the double-leg kick means
business; lots of mounting each other and eating grass and loud honking/braying
for what seems like no reason.)
The bikes that come with
the cottage are uncomfortable, but definitely usable (my butt is so pampered).
Our first bike into town (
Our second trip to town
is less jarring. Each Tuesday there is a fruit and vegetable market. We plan to
make this a regular stop.
Mark is reading Alexander
Hamilton’s biography (
I’m reading Barbara
Kingsolver’s Animal, Vegetable, Miracle. I tell Mark I am “living off
the land” by eating all the passion fruits that fall on our back porch.
Mark saw a monkey! Right on our back porch. The monkey ran as soon as Mark made
a small sound, so I’m still in search of a monkey sighting. We asked Adolfo and
he said the little guy probably wanted some passion fruit. I suppose I can
share my fruit with a cute little monkey. (Although Adolfo also said the
rascally monkeys typically take one bite of a fruit and then discard it—I’m not
sure they fully understand Barbara Kingsolver’s message.)
Adolfo just brought us
bananas from a tree on the property and also a cantaloupe. It’s quite beautiful
to hear Adolfo talk about the property and the gardens. He understands this
land and these plants like he does his own body and soul. He is definitely one
with this place; it is in his bones (and in his heart).
Yesterday was quite a
day. First of all, Mark saw the monkey. Then we “communed” with the ocean for
the first time (I quite genuinely told Mark that I needed to commune and become
part of the ocean, and now he playfully uses this term). Our beach is rocky and
pebbly, yet soft and gentle, too. It was lovely to get a dose of vitamin D,
snorkel, ride the waves, and search for special stones. I will definitely
commune regularly. Then Mark made a great batch of chili and just before bed we
sat in the hot tub (well, really a warm tub) and watched the stars. The moon is
not even half full and yet it lit the night. The sky seems so big here—very
little light pollution. Another day in paradise.
We’ve decided that
homemade cornbread is one of the most delicious and versatile foods. We’ve
eaten it with spaghetti, omelets, and chili, each meal a wonderful treat. We’ve
enjoyed making all our own food (rather than eating out). It’s fun to make
frequent trips to the markets and stores to get fresh foods and then concoct
things together (e.g., chili, cornbread, banana bread, salsa, refried beans, roasted
sweet potatoes, biscuits, pasta sauce, frittatas). Dinner on the front porch at
sunset is delightful. (And we’ve been able to add to the compost pile that
nourishes the property.)
There’s a gap in the
rental of the main house on the property, so we have full reign of the grounds
for over a week. (Not that we ever noticed the people while they were in the
house—they were very quiet and the landscaping provides nice privacy for both
the house and the cottage.) What’s nice is that we can use their pool and
pavilion, both of which overlook the ocean (for what Adolfo calls the
“big-screen ocean view”).
Early morning on the
property is beautiful. The birds, lizards, butterflies, and bees all wake up
and the place hums. A walk through the gardens just after sunrise is peaceful,
yet energizing.
It was
fresh-veggies-and-fruit-market day today (pineapple, grapefruit, peppers,
onions, tomatoes, bananas, mmmm). We also went to the
Adolfo brought us some
young coconuts (the coconuts on the property don’t have the dark brown, crusty
exterior we’re used to seeing). He said the “meat” of the young coconut is good
for the kidneys (and it’s much softer—they call it “jelly-like”—than the coconut
we’re used to). He left us a machete to open the things. Mark didn’t think me
and a machete was such a good idea, but I gave it a few whacks (ultimately,
Mark had to finish the job). The young-coconut flesh grew on me—it’s a
different, but good taste (plus, it’s good for the kidneys).
We took a hike from our
cottage to Brown Hill—through dirt roads, pastures, green-covered ravines,
small towns, and up the steepest hill either of us has climbed (we can’t
believe cars actually make it up and down this hill regularly). It gave us an
incredible view of the southern-side of the island.
Adolfo was concerned
(after the long Easter weekend—Friday and Monday are holidays here) that we
hadn’t called (apparently guests typically call him more often—not sure why). I
told him we were blissfully happy and there’s nothing we need. He said, “you really meant it when you said you were low maintenance.”
I’m glad we can be low maintenance for Adolfo (and for ourselves).
We’ve fallen into a nice
routine (as far as “routines” go while on vacation): Get up fairly early (5ish
for Mark—he spends the first hour of the day walking around the grounds—and
6ish for Joy), enjoy a nice breakfast together on the front porch, perhaps chat
with Adolfo, Mark usually plays fiddle by the sea after breakfast and I usually
journal/read/write, then we have a variety of possible daily
activities—reading, meditating (Joy), communing with the ocean, bike trips to
town for groceries, exploration of the historical sites in town, hikes on the
southern-side of the island, pilates/running (Joy), playing fiddle (Mark),
snacking, writing, napping, walking around the grounds (each time you notice
something new)—and then we have a nice dinner together at sunset on the front
porch before a quiet night of reading, yoga, and sometimes even scrabble, and
then lights out at 9pm. We try to limit our trips off our oasis (only 2-3 a
week), as it’s so restful and rejuvenating to be right here.
Adolfo pointed out two
sour-orange trees. They are producing lots of fruit. I picked 8 oranges
(definitely sour!), squeezed them and mixed the juice with water and sugar. It
made for a lovely ade with dinner.
We stopped briefly at the
Botanical Gardens during our hike to Brown Hill. As I sit on the front porch of
our cottage, I think we actually live in a botanical garden. Mark commented
that the only “trash” on the grounds is flower petals. Sometimes when the
breeze is really strong, it seems to be raining flower petals—quite beautiful.
I saw a monkey! I was on
the front porch and he was briefly sitting on the trunk of a tree. I got a
really good look at him, but then he darted away. Unfortunately, it was the
mango tree he was sitting on, which won’t please Adolfo. The mango tree is
apparently a very special breed (in terms of the tastiness of the mangoes), and
the last time it bore fruit the monkeys picked them all. Right now there are
two small (not yet fully developed fruit) on the tree. Hopefully the monkey
wasn’t scouting out those. [Adolfo just came by to show me the remains of one
of the mangoes—yes, the monkey had a nice treat. Adolfo decided to cover the
remaining mango in a plastic bag.]
We took our 5-speed bikes
up 1000 feet in elevation yesterday. It was quite a climb. Beautiful
scenery, but an honest slog. (I definitely counted it as my workout for
the day.) The destination was incredible—well worth the ride. We went to Golden
Rock Plantation Inn. It’s tucked away in the mountain—an inn made out of a
restored sugar plantation. The buildings are interesting, the gardens
beautiful, and the view (of the ocean) spectacular. After our long and hard
bike ride, we took a short hike through the rainforest (Golden Rock is where
most of the rainforest hikes begin). Then we indulged in a lovely lunch
overlooking the ocean. What an incredible day. And the bike ride home was a
breeze (yes, I rode the brakes the whole way).
We saw many monkeys while
in the rainforest. They don’t scuttle away as quickly when we’re on their home
base. They keep a safe distance, but they turn to look curiously at us. They
move very lithely and are quite quiet (very different from, say, the goats).
Post dinner (right at dusk)
we’ve enjoyed watching the feeding antics of the bats. They put on quite an air
show (flying fast, dipping down quickly, and changing directions drastically).
One evening a bat even took a detour through out patio area (of course I
crouched and covered my head, but Mark watched in delight).
Yesterday we rode our
bikes to the north side of the island. There’s a small bike shop there run by
Winston—a tall, fit, gregarious man with a lovely English accent. Mark bought a
spoke wrench to make our bike’s run more efficiently, and Winston told us about
the triathlon and biking club they started 12 years ago (it’s going strong,
with weekly races). Plus, we got a gorgeous view of St. Kitts (an island two
miles from Nevis—
On our way home we
stopped at Sunshine’s, which is highly recommended by all who come
here—particularly the rum drink called the Killer Bee. Although we didn’t get
to meet Sunshine (he’d just left), he’s apparently a Rastafarian with a huge
personality. Over 10 years ago, he created a comfy, lounge-like shack right on
the beach, with good food and drinks. The Killer Bees were quite good (with
fresh-ground nutmeg on top—I’ll have to remember that trick). After two of them
(and a relaxing swim in the ocean and lounging in the comfy couches) we were
both feeling pretty blissed-out, not necessarily wanting to make the short bike
ride home. We also had a conversation with Sweet Pea, who does hair braiding on
the beach by Sunshine’s. She told us about the Four Seasons Hotel (just next to
Sunshine’s) being shut down (waiting on new insurance after the last hurricane)
and the impact it’s had locally—the hotel laid off
over 600 locals. That’s a huge deal for an island of only 11,000 people. (Sweet
Pea also put in a plug for her hair-braiding talents. Apparently when Kelly
Ripa—of Regis and Kelly in the Morning,
or whatever that show is—stays at the Four Seasons, Sweet Pea does her braids.
She was quite proud of that.)
On Tuesdays, Fidelina
comes to clean the cottage. So we bike into town for our usual fresh-fruit-and-veggie
market, groceries, and lunch at Café de Arts. But we also try to look into some
of the historical spots in
We also went to the
Jewish cemetery. The oldest grave in the cemetery is dated 1679 (the newest is
1768). It was quite interesting to walk around and think about these people’s
lives so long ago. (In the early 1700s, Jewish people made up 25% of the
300-person population of
Yesterday it rained (hard
at times) all afternoon. This is very unusual for
Mark’s enjoyed watching
the goat parade each morning by our house. He sits inside our fence and simply
watches them pass by on the road. Every once in a while one of the goats gets a
whiff of Mark’s scent and stops in its tracks, but then moves on. Once the
goats pass, a small donkey parade follows. It’s fun to think about where they
might be going. Perhaps some wild-and-crazy goat-donkey
party? Probably just better grass and brush to munch
on.
Yesterday was Mark’s
birthday. We had homemade biscuits and island fruit (papaya and grapefruit) for
breakfast. The papaya came from a tree on the property (Adolfo kindly dropped
it off for us). Here’s the count of what we’ve eaten right off the property:
cantaloupe, papaya, bananas, many sour oranges (3 batches of yummy ade), many coconuts, and many passion fruit. After our usual
lolling in the morning, Mark chose to celebrate his birthday at Sunshine’s
(with Killer Bees—the excellent rum drink I previously wrote about). We biked
there, took a dip in the ocean, and then had a light lunch and two Killer Bees
at Sunshine’s. While there, we had an interesting conversation with Jimmy, a
big-hearted Rastafarian who lives on the mountain, but once a month comes to
the ocean to see his friends and get a dose of the sea. He talked about love,
reincarnation, and tolerance. Mark thought he was a bit of a yammerer, but I
thought he was a gentle soul filled with lots of love. I was also sung to by a
reggae artist named Watusi. He wanted us to buy a cd (choice of 3). Since we
couldn’t listen to them first, I asked him to sing me a song from each (he
thought I’d go for the love-song cd, but I went for the “roots/revolution” cd).
And we also bought a necklace for Mark for his birthday (from the same
artist—with the warm personality—that I previously bought my necklace). I had
to prep her first (I was Mark’s body guard)—told her he didn’t want to be
“sold,” he only wanted to leisurely look. She dutifully laid out the necklaces
and let him decide. He chose a beautiful necklace made of cork, seashell, and
coconut. On the way home, we picked up ice cream for Mark’s birthday dessert.
This was quite a decadent treat, as we haven’t had dessert the entire time we’ve
been on
We had out last Tuesday
in
Tonight we’ll make a
frittata for dinner that includes all our leftover vegetables (we’ve done a
good job of eating everything down—planning our last few meals carefully). Then
tomorrow morning we catch the ferry to St. Kitts and fly out of the St. Kitts
airport (back to reality). We are deeply grateful for all
Travel from
Taking the ferry from
Nevis to St. Kitts was a wonderful way to slowly say goodbye to