It’s 5 o’clock somewhere

My most recent trip over Christmas and New Year’s took me to the Caribbean and Miami. One place was good for the soul the other... well, we were in South Beach - ‘nuff said.

In the late summer of last year, my friend Atilla told me about a trip he was planning to Miami for New Year’s and that he wanted to take tack on a few days in the Virgin Islands - since he was in the area and all. He said he was looking for a travel buddy. My ears perked up. Travel you said? I’m in!! And so the planning started. We had evening meetings, weekly phone calls and daily emails. Where are we going? What are we gonna do? What hotel are we gonna stay at? Do you snore? Do you have some weird habits I should know about before we embark on this adventure. No? Well, we’ll see.

The excitement was building. Takeoff was December 24th. Atilla was already in Miami. We met up at the airport. On my way to meeting him, I caught a glimpse of a ‘new’ destination on the departure announcement screen: Havana, Cuba. For the first time in eight years of being in the US and countless hours at various airports did I see any destination in Cuba listed at the airport. And it put a smile on my face... And then I met with Atilla at the gate shortly before taking off. Can’t say I wasn’t nervous. It was the first time we would travel together - and spend every minute together. But I knew it was gonna be fine when we arrived on the island of St. Thomas - which is part of the U.S. Virgin Islands. We got off the plane and a nice young woman greeted us with little shots of rum!! Screw the lei you get in Hawaii! We both took a shot of this local speciality - Cruzan Rum. Atilla went for seconds - he was in love. And I was assured that this would be a fun trip.

After dropping our stuff at the hotel and freshening up we went to our hotel’s restaurant, which had a beautiful view of the harbor. We ordered some local specialty cocktails - Painkiller and Bushwacker (yes, more Cruzan rum) - headed into town for some late night fun at the Fat Turtle. An outdoor night club. More rum. We looked around and thought we were back in the 80s. There was big hair, big earrings, neon colors, heavy eye make-up. I was waiting for Michael J. Fox to land on the dance floor with his Delorean. After some pinching ourselves to get that we really are in this paradise, we went back to our hotel. Once we got there Atilla called me outside and asked me to sit down on our balcony wall. He handed me one earpiece of his iPod. We quietly sat next to each other listening to Owl City’s Fireflies while gazing up in the sky. I could feel the tranquility. I was at peace - for the first time in a long time. I exhaled and smiled.

The next morning I watched one of most amazing sunrises I’ve ever seen. I looked down at the harbor and a gigantic (no, ginormous) cruise ship elegantly entered the harbor. The tourists have arrived for the day! We escaped touristy St. Thomas by taking a day trip to the nearby island of St. John. We didn’t know when we got off the ferry that we were gonna be in for something amazing. First, we had breakfast and then we hunted for a jeep to rent. Sounds easy. Nope. There aren’t that many car rentals around. A guy at the airport in Miami had told us about a rental place. We found it. It was closed. Sweet... Someone told us about scooters you could rent - but we figured that wouldn’t be a good idea on an island that is in large part a national park. It took us about an hour to find a jeep. But we did. And we started our drive which would turned into beach hopping. First stop: Hawksnest Bay. We parked the jeep and walked through the lush fauna. Skinny palm trees, thick green bushes, plants with leaves the size of my entire body lined the way. I have never seen so many different shades of green. Then we stepped out of the green and onto the sand. Speechless! The beauty was overwhelming. Turquoise water. White sand. The sun dancing on our face. A warm breeze embracing our bodies. What an amazing feeling. All the problems that were plaguing me in LA two days earlier were suddenly really far away. How lucky was I. And I was so grateful for it. We picked a spot in the sand and took pictures as if they were going to outlaw it the next day. Next stop: Trunk Bay. The most famous bay on the island. More shades of green. More shades of turquoise. More paradise pictures. Time for a cocktail! We spent the rest of the day driving around the island framed in amazing ocean views. Watch out! Donkeys on the road! St. John was hands down the most beautiful place on the entire trip.

The next day we left American soil and ventured to the british side - the island of Tortola. Hailed as the gem of the Virgin Islands. Let me just burst your bubble now. It’s not a gem. It was actually the only letdown on this trip. Starting with the hotel. Boy, what a dump. And an expensive dump at that. Ants on the wall. A ceiling fan that is bound to kill someone. A view of a trash pile. And as a bonus: a cockroach in the kitchenette. So, I don’t recommend staying at Elm Beach Suites on Cane Garden Bay. Or as Atilla likes to call it: Nightmare of Elm Beach Suites. We switched rooms, which was a marginal improvement. Since it was raining and we hated our room, we spent most of our first day at the adjacent hotel and their well-stocked rum bar. Atilla made a sad face when he learned that there was no Cruzan rum. Luckily, he brought his own supply. In the evening, we had dinner the fanciest restaurant on the island - the Sugar Mill. We were all dressed up and had a fabulous meal in the Christmasy decorated high-ceiling dining room. Glasses were clinked. Gazes were stolen. Laughter. Happiness. And then ‘So, you guys have been to Solvang in California.’ So much for the private conversation. A father and his daughter were having dinner at the table next to us. The daughter clearly embarrassed about the father eavesdropping. He was from San Diego. Likes to sail. And travel. He has his own business. And was reading a book about how WWII was really about oil. Huh? More wine please.

The next day we wanted to go kayaking but the sea was too rough. The waves were crashing loudly on the shore. What to do? Let’s go to the rum distillery down the street. Ok. A quick pit stop at the Bomba Shack known for it’s full moon parties - and served some interesting mushroom specialties. Hm... Armed with some Cruzan mini rum bottles we had a rather unpleasant cab driver take us to the quite secluded Smugglers’ Cove. Down a dirt road through the forest, there it was. Along with a small shack that served BBQ and cocktails! Wohoo! We found a little spot in the shade, got us some orange juice and started mixing. We took a few dips in the water but the waves were so rough that one knocked me over. Since I can barely swim, I decided to take a walk on the beach and take more pictures. Atilla had some making creations out of sand and I had fun watching him go at it like a little kid the first time at the beach. Suddenly, someone screamed for help. A chubby tourist needed to be rescued. The lifeguard paddled out in his kayak. Fatty dipped over the kayak and the lifeguard with it. The second attempt worked. Yup, I’m gonna stay out of the water... Suddenly, I see something green in the sand staring at me. A crab!!!! It dug it’s way out of the sand. The hunt was on. I needed a picture of the beauty. Never thought it would be green. I reached for the camera and got up. The crab went underground. I was not gonna give up that easy. I walked closer to the hole in the ground and sat down. Finger on the trigger. A wave rolled over the hole. A minute later it came out. Snap! I got my picture. Turns out the crab is cross-eyed. And apparently liked the attention. It sat there for a while letting me take numerous pictures. Good crab.

The next day we left the hotel from hell at daybreak and took a sailing trip to Virgin Gorda - also part of he british islands. Known for The Baths. Caves on the shore that have been carved out by the water. We sailed for about an hour to the island and got to know some of the history of the region. We also learned that Virgin Gorda means ‘Fat Virgin’ because from far away the island looks like a pregnant woman laying on her back. Ok, I’m gonna let that one slide... The sail boat stopped a short distance before the shore. We snorkeled the rest of the way. Clear water allowed us to see blue, yellow and striped fish. It was stunning. And the peace underwater is so calming. Once we got on shore, we hiked through The Baths which were an incredible sight. Huge boulders. Caves. Some filled with water. Sunlight coming in through small gaps between the rocks. We had to rub shoulders with a lot of other tour groups. Nonetheless, worth every second. We snorkeled back to the boat and took a peaceful, smooth ride back. People barely talked. But we all smiled. We caught a glimpse of a sea turtle swimming nearby. The captain played ‘I am sailing’. Cheesey? Maybe. Awesome? Definitely!

We spent our last night in the Virgin Islands back on St. Thomas. A last meal with Caribbean flavors. More rum cocktails. And Owl City’s Fireflies under a starry night one more time. The next day we were off to Miami for New Year’s. The airport had five gates, one souvenir shop, one fast-food restaurant and one bar. And as we soon found out, only about six working outlets. It rained. Flights were delayed and people were fighting for the outlets to charge their phones. Tensions were high. The souvenir shop closed. The restaurant ran out of food. No plane landed or took off for about three hours. Couples were fighting. A woman snarled at Atilla for ‘still’ charging his phone. IPod on. Eyes closed. Ohmmmmmmm....

Then we could finally board our plane after another hour or two of waiting. I lost track. Nothing could ruin the experience we had for the last five days. We take off with and I was still smiling.