Time for 'I'.
And of course, 'I' must be Island.
Which means it's time for another Tale
of the Caribbean...Island...
Most people experience the Caribbean on
a cruise or an all-inclusive resort. Rob and I have never done
anything the easy way.
Our destination on the first trip to
the Caribbean was Tortola in the British Virgin Islands. The trip
included in a small condo where we could cook breakfast and
probably lunch or dinner each day, with a plan to rent a car to
explore the island. Never mind that they drive American cars
(steering wheel on the left) on the opposite side of the road from
what we are accustomed.
That particular detail of the trip was
parked after the open-air taxi ride to the rental place- on the WRONG
side of the road, which was barely two lane in places and shouldered
on one side by steep walls of dirt and vegetation and shouldered on
the other by the ocean.
Literally.
Ocean spray would on occasion splash
the front window and the passenger on the water side should you be in
an open-air vehicle.
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| This is an oil tanker. Taken from the passenger window as we sped 50kph around the island. |
Oh, and the rental place was closed on
Sunday afternoon.
As our drive said, "Welcome to the
Caribbean!" He graciously drove us the rest of the way to our
condo at Fort Recovery.
Now you would assume, being a taxi,
that there would be no hesitation. However, Fort Recovery sits near
the West end of the island which means chances of a fair back to the
airport was slightly slim.
We figured out the nuances of cabs
quickly.
As foreign cell phones can get sketchy
coverage on the island, Fort Recovery provides local cell phones with
around $5 worth of minutes available, renewable in the office. The phone
is loaded with about two dozen taxi services. It took three calls to
arrange a cab – the service on the West end really didn't want to
drive all the way to the East end. The East end didn't really want
to come West. The third dispatcher I spoke too, at a different
number but sounding suspiciously like the first dispatcher I spoke
with, finally agreed to send a car.
I got the distinct feeling these
services are family run. More than once we were picked up in unmarked
sedans.
Sounds safe, right?
Actually, it couldn't have been nicer.
Every driver, with the exception of
one, was pleasant and helpful and told us all about the beautiful
island. Even the cranky one warmed up when we asked his favorite
local place for dinner – Fish and Lime at Soper's Hole.
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| Sunset at Fish and Lime. More on this in another post. |
He was
right – dinner was inexpensive and delicious.
Good thing. The taxi rides averaged
around $20 - $30 one way.
Which brings me to the original idea of
this story.
We have stayed in several condos on
other vacations. They are economical, given that a kitchen – no
matter how small – offers the opportunity to save money on meals. I
generally plan to cook breakfast and stock the fridge with a fruit
plate, veggie plate and some lunch meat from the local grocery. My
vacation pantry includes coffee, tea, crackers, chips and something
sweet.
Exactly how I intended to stock our
kitchen in Tortola.
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| Our tiny, but well equipped kitchen. Of course the stove is on the WRONG side of the kitchen. |
This was before I began to take an
actual interest in island life. Had I read even one article on
cooking on a sailboat I would have realized that grocery shopping on
an island is...different.
Road Town, the largest town on Tortola,
offers a couple of actual grocery stores.
Of course this would have meant another
taxi ride to and from.
The kind folks at Fort Recovery told us
there was a small grocery just down the road, about half a mile. Well
within walking distance.
So we figured, on our first afternoon
on the island, what better way to discover our new neighborhood than
to walk to the store...on that narrow, two-lane road where everyone
insists on driving on the WRONG side.
Or perhaps we were WALKING on the wrong
side.
Either way, I never did get use to
hearing a car approach only to be facing the approaching vehicle
rather than having it come up from behind. We side stepped several
times into driveways, dirt paths and once an honest to goodness palm
tree jungle.
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| You thought I was kidding, didn't you. |
But as death defying walks go, it
couldn't have been prettier or more interesting.
We listened to children at a day school
singing songs.
We spied into the courtyard of a
lovely, albeit forgotten, home.
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| part of the gate |
|
|
|
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| so inviting |
And then we arrived at the grocery...
Or more specifically, the Tortola
version of a QT.
Part gas station, part cell phone
provider, part grocer.
All neighborhood hang-out.
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| Yes Big Ben. You are indeed a Super-ette!! |
I could not have felt more like an
outsider that Sunday afternoon as we wandered cautiously onto the
parking lot. A couple of men sat on the concrete steps talking, a dog
at their feet. A family, I assumed heading home from church, were
piling back into their car. Each child with a treat in hand.
The interior of the small store felt a
little more familiar. Dry goods on shelves. Produce in an open cooler
at the back. A large freezer in the other corner.
There were a few familiar brands –
Coke, Pepsi, Oreo, Campbells. But most everything had a slightly
exotic tweak. The carrots were the size of watermelons. The juice and
milk were un-refridgerated in vacuum sealed cartons.
And the meat?
All unlabeled and frozen.
And Unlabeled...
I was very cautious on our first trip
to Big Ben's. I was also slightly travel shocked. We had to carry our
purchases back to the condo and we didn't want to waste money or
supplies so we tried to buy things that could do double duty. It
seems like we wound up with some juice, a couple of apples, some
lemons and limes, a zucchini, a 6-pack of soda, a bag of coffee, a
stick of butter and a rice pilaf kit. And some sort of fish.
I am still not sure what sort, I think
it may have been a red snapper. Given that whole 'unlabeled' issue I
really just guessed according to color, thickness and smell. Or in
this case, lack there of.
I also grabbed a package of locally
baked raisin buns at the checkout.
The buns were great for breakfast,
sliced and slightly toasted in a skillet with some melted butter.
The fish, sauteed in butter with salt
and pepper and a little lemon tasted quite exotic.
As it turns out, unlabeled meat became
a fun challenge.
By our last trip to the market, I was a
pro at rummaging through the freezer. Tossing aside boring chicken
and what looked to be pork, or goat, to score the coveted 'some sort
of beef'.
Turns out it was a skirt steak.
And it was delicious, not just because
of the Caribbean pepper blend sprinkled on top or the lime juice
marinate.
It was most delicious because the clerk
recognized us as the goofy couple who held a guessing game outside
the meat freezer and debated over which ice cream treat to eat on the
walk home. And she greeted us that day with a familiar 'hello'.
(Visiting local markets is one of my
absolute favorite things to do when traveling – whether it is the
SafeCo in Colorado, the Piggly Wiggly in Florida or the Mexican
Walmart in Cabo. Big Ben's was my most challenging to date. And so
worth the push past my comfort zone. Which is really the point of
travel, in my opinion. As always, come back again. There will be many
more Tales from the Caribbean.)
For more info on Fort Recovery click here: http://fortrecoverytortola.com/
This post is part of the A-Z blogging challenge, where Monday -Saturday in April is dedicated to running the alphabet, using each day's letter as the inspiration.
