New Years in Paradise
Written: Dec 15 '00
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Product Rating:
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Pros: great weather, lots to do
Cons: getting there, sad to leave
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| sg4313's Full Review: Abaco Islands |
Last New Years, I decided to take a vacation to visit my boyfriend, Mike, whose family lives in the Bahamas. I had never been to the Caribbean, so he was perpetually attempting to explain life in his hometown, Hopetown, to me, but I could not visualize it. He told me there were no real roads, and therefore no cars, and everyone walked around barefoot. Having grown up in New York City, it was hard for me to imagine walking around without shoes. But the idea thrilled me, and I promised him I would see it one day. Now, after spending five days in the small town, the prospect of dining out shoeless is not only familiar, but glorious.
The only difficult aspect of my vacation in Hopetown was getting there. Leaving from Paris two days before the Millenium, I had to fly to Philadelphia, Charlotte, Nassau, Marsh Harbour, and then catch a ferry boat to the tiny island which is about 20 minutes away. Hopetown (which is also known as Elbow Cay) is part of the Abaco Islands. There is no airport on the island, so visitors must fly to Marsh Harbour and then ferry across.
Although the Bahamasair flight between Nassau and Marsh Harbour seemed menacingly low-budget, the flight was a smooth one. Mike had warned me that Bahamasair was know for its delays, but my flight was right on time. 25 minutes after taking off, we landed in Marsh Harbour, where I caught a taxi to the ferry dock.
There is only one ferry dock in Marsh Harbour, and on New Years Eve, all of the taxi drivers know you are going to Hopetown. Tourists and natives come from all over the Bahamas for Hopetown's New Years junkanoo, the biggest festival of the year. The taxi driver was enthusiastically telling me what to expect, when he interrupted himself to congratulate me on being lucky enough to have landed when I did. The last ferry for Hopetown was to leave the dock in five minutes. When I asked him how long it would take us to drive there, he answered, "About eight or nine." Mike had told me that native Abaconians were laid back, but I had not fully understood the truth in that generality before then.
Luckily, the stragglers flocking to the dock were holding up the final departure, and I boarded just in time.
Once on the boat, the anxiety of reaching my destination came to an abrupt halt, and I looked at my surroundings for the first time. The blue water, the clear sky, the crowd of people so seemingly content. In other cities I've lived in, it is virtually impossible to find a public vessel filled with happy people. However, in Hopetown, during the holidays, everyone is smiling. The passengers knew not only the people sitting directly next to them, but also those across the aisle, in the next row, and down in front.
When you're in Hopetown, it really is a small world.
Mike's family has an open house every New Years Eve. Before visiting Hopetown, the concept of opening one's doors to anyone and everyone had been unheard of by me. But it is commonplace in Hopetown, where the open atmosphere makes the island seem like one big family.
On New Years Eve, the entire island is involved in creating the scene for the junkanoo. It takes place on the baseball field, which is the largest open space on the island, aside from the beaches. All of the bars on the island close down early and the employees sell drinks at stands on the field, just to ensure that everyone is celebrating in the same place.
People dance and sing before, during and after the simple fireworks display, and then they parade down the paths beating drums and tambourines, and blowing into conch shell horns (it takes a little practice, but after a while, anyone can do it). We beat our drums and danced for hours, and, if I remember correctly, I even tried to sing along to a couple of reggae songs which I had never heard before. Hopefully no one will remember that this year.
The festival goes on all night, but somehow, we were able to fall asleep, despite the music and the stampede that paraded past the house until four or five a.m. Maybe it was the champagne.
The rest of the visit was serene and peaceful. Conch diving and fishing on the boat, drinks at Cracker Pea's (a bar stretching out over the ocean, identifiable to passing boaters by a large black sign that reads B-A-R), lying out on the beach, and wading out onto sandbars after the tide recedes.
There are a few bars and restaurants on the island, an ice cream shop, a couple of souvenir stores, and a grocery store owned by Vernon Malone, who is probably the most well-known man on the island. Vernon is "Island Deputy", but he also owns and manages the only produce store, watches over other people's houses during the off season, and -- perhaps his most important job -- acts as priest-on-the-spot. Yes, people like that really do exist.
For our anniversary, which conveniently took place on the last night of our vacation, Mike and I went to "Seaspray," the only excuse for getting dressed up on the island. Unfortunately, I had only packed flip-flops, but that is perfectly acceptable in Hopetown. As long as you're wearing shoes, you are considered formal.
The ferry ride back to Marsh Harbour was depressing. The holidays were over, so that was mildly sad. But what I was really going to miss were the warm, blue skies, and the lackadaisical style of living that goes hand in hand with everything in Hopetown. Mike knows what it is like to live in Hopetown, but it will always be a paradise for me.
Luckily, Hopetown is one paradise anyone can revisit. I, for one, already have my plane ticket!
Recommended:
Yes
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Epinions.com ID:
sg4313
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Reviews written: 1
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