When travelling to the Bahamas, you might want to keep in mind the saying -
Hurry Up and Wait.
As I mentioned in the earlier post, our Ft. Lauderdale to North Eleuthera flight ended up running about 4 hours late, grr. It turns out, Issac and I were the only 2 passengers on the next flight and that was why the Continental representative was so irritated that he could not reach us (Issac & me) to put us on the earlier flight that was running 2 hours late (Did they delay that flight just for us, hmm?). Just to make things more interesting for all, the powers to be at 'said' airline, took 9 nice folks off a completely different flight (to nearby Governor's Harbour) and put them all on our North Eleuthera flight (huh?). Then, Continental gave all 9 dis-enfranchised passengers free vouchers for taxi transportation to their actual destination (Governor's Harbour) a mere 1 hour away.
I 'overheard' a local Bahamian grandmother (fellow passenger) remark to her precious grand-daughter, "God put Continental Airlines into my life to teach me patience."
Take 9 passengers off one plane to Governor's Harbour, and put them on a completely different plane just so you can deliver 2 passengers to Harbour Island, hmm.
9 taxi vouchers to Governor's Harbour instead of the reverse - 2 taxi vouchers to Harbour Island.
Sounds like typical big business bureaucracy - spend dollars to save pennies . . . . ?
(Someone told me that the Gulf Stream Airline franchise was filing for bankruptcy, hmm. I'm sure they will qualify for some type of government bailout.)
Anyhew, . . . .
The moment you step foot on Harbour Island all your travel worries disappear. You just breathe out big city life (stupid airline) and breathe in island life (worry free).
Hotel check-in is always a funny thing to me. Issac always makes the hotel reservations for us (translation - his credit card). I'm assuming that The Coral Sands Hotel must be a really nice place to work. I say that because every year we see so many familiar faces still working there and still smiling. For Issac, there are lots of warm "Hellos," "So glad your back," "We've put you in the same room that you had last time." And then, they glance over at me with a polite blank expression on their faces.
"And, you are traveling with . . . .?"
Once the hotel arrival adulation has begun to wear off, Issac remembers to speak up, "My wife is with me. Yes, that," sweeping gesture, "is my lovely wife."
Whatever . . . .
Really though, I get it. They've all been in the hotel business a long time and marriage is a 50/50 split. And, I guess, a husband could bring more than one 'lady friend' to a romantic island get away. And, their (hotel's) allegiance is to 'said' credit card so to speak and not to individuals (wives). Lastly, and probably the most likely, all us middle-aged, blonde haired, white chicks must look the same, ha ha.
(Or, I guess, I could be his, ahem, much younger 'niece,' tee hee.)
Personally, I can't wait to get to the room and throw off my cumbersome winter clothes (it was a chilly 38 degrees in Houston when we left), and slip into my island look, and head straight for the beach. One of my all time favorite Harbour Island activities is to simply just walk down the beach either direction - In the morning, I tend to walk to the right . . . . .
and in the evening, I tend to walk to the left.
Did I mention that I love to eaves drop on other people's conversation whenever possible, all the time, tee hee? I know that eaves dropping is terribly impolite and a horrible habit, but I just can't seem to help myself.
I haven't even cleared the Coral Sand's 3rd beach umbrella when I overhear one young tanned college age girl confide to her BFF strolling along side her, "I really wish that I had a few days off between going home and going back to college, you know, . . . to rest."
"I know, me too." The incredibly tanned BFF replied, most earnestly.
Poor dears, life can be so stressful at that age.
- - - - -
One thing that I have grown to understand and love about Harbour Island is that Issac and I are on the same vacation migratory pattern as several other individuals and families on The Island. Translation, many of us recognize each other from coming to stay on The Island and/or at the Coral Sands Hotel or simply we have sat next to each other for a meal at one of our very favorite spots.
Issac and I have 3 favorite Dinner spots on the island -
Coral Sands Hotel
The Rock House
For Lunch -
Coral Sands Hotel
The Dunmore Deli
For Breakfast -
Coral Sands Hotel
Typical of any species, the watering hole (bar) is where you will find the male species at his most vulnerable (stupid). One such particular 'bird' that we've run into a couple of times over the past few years was telling us (anyone who would listen) that he is thinking about making the move from 'bay' to 'beach'.
"I bought on the bay side a few years ago, but I really want to be on the beach side now." He ascertained.
"Oh, you fish." I assumed. Because wouldn't that be pretty great to be able to pull your fishing boat right up to the dock on your bay side home.
"No, never.' He replied, most emphatically.
"Oh, then you must enjoy walks on the beach and swimming in the ocean." I continued my efforts.
"No, I've been down here all week, and I haven't made it over to the beach yet."
Over? - You mean the whole 1/2 mile distance in golf-cart?
"I just see myself on the beach side more than the bay side."
"Well, I guess it is worth the extra money if you are down here a lot." I smiled.
"Oh, I hardly ever come down. I've only been down a couple times since I bought the place. I'm way too busy."
"If you don't mind me asking, why did you buy the place to begin with."
"For my grand-kids to visit."
"Oh, you have grandchildren?"
Ahh, he's trying to be a fun grand-dad.
"No, my kids are in high-school and live with my ex, but I will have grand-kids some day, and I'm sure they would love the beach."
I remembered to forget to ask the fella his name again this year, tee hee.
"Have you looked elsewhere? Perhaps Palm Beach would be more convenient."
He doesn't deserve to own a house on such a beautiful island. He should sell the house and buy a pretty painting to impress his friends (and himself!) with.
I know, I shouldn't have such strong opinions. I don't know why I would even care. But, the conversation did make me think - How many homeowners on Harbour Island (or any resort for that matter) are too busy to take time out/ off to enjoy their beautiful vacation homes?
I will always remember my friend P.A. telling me about a 'bird' (peacock) she met at a cocktail party in Aspen one summer. The guy just kept going on and on about how many homes he owned, and how many house keys he had to keep up with, and how he didn't have time to even go to all these homes, . . . . blah, blah, blah.
My dear friend quickly cut him off, "Those houses don't sound like homes, they sound like investments. A piece of real estate is not a home, it's an asset."
My friend P.A. is not easily impressed.
- - - - -
During my beach holiday on Harbour Island, I received a text ($3) from my over-achieving brother who was in Vail with his family for an action packed ski week.
"Skied 15 runs today." He bragged. "What did you do today?" He challenged.
I know he wouldn't understand how lovely (and completely opposite) my 'winter' vacation was . . . . .
An early morning walk on the beach.
Followed, by a big breakfast.
Some quality beach time.
Lunch, (wouldn't dream of missing a meal, ha ha.)
Perhaps, another stroll on the beach.
Sightseeing . . . . . .
Shopping . . . . . .
The Sugar Mill
A little eco-tourism . . . .
Huge dinner . . . . . to bed.
Repeat. Repeat. Repeat. Repeat. Repeat. Repeat. Repeat.
Harbour Island, not your everyday walk on the beach.
(My kind of powder, ha ha.)