Bridgetown, Barbados to Halifax, Nova Scotia - The Long Journey Home

I timed the shuttle to pick me up at Angler with enough time to get to the airport, check-in, go through security and have a minimal wait to board. But, of course, as often happens when dealing with air travel, it didn’t quite work out that way. At check-in, the agent advised me that my flight was several hours behind schedule. So I tried my best to make use of the extra time I had and found a little café where I bought a slice of pizza and a coffee.

I tried to kill some time by accessing the elusive airport WiFi which was still being quite elusive to me. Everyone around me seemed to be tinkering away on Facebook and checking emails but I was still unable to connect. I killed about an hour in the coffee shop…and killed the rest of the time browsing the duty-free shops. I found myself a couple of keychains, a nice beachbag for only ten dollars and a couple of pieces of stylish handmade beach jewelry. Sometimes I think this is why flights are delayed; people who would not normally shop in the airport resort to shopping in airports when they have nothing else to do while waiting for a delayed flight.

I wasn’t too upset by this surprise delay. After all, my trip home was to take more than 24 hours. 6.5-hour flight from Barbados to Toronto with a 10-hour layover at Pearson followed by another 2-hour flight to Halifax, a 3-hour wait there and a 5-hour shuttle drive to Cape Breton. An extra few hours wasn’t going to make much a difference.

It was close to ten o’clock when I arrived at Pearson International Airport in Toronto. Unfortunately, because my flight wasn’t departing until the next day, I had to retrieve my luggage and lug around with me all night and recheck it in the morning. I know that doesn’t really sound like a big deal but consider the fact that since waiting passengers are to keep their eyes on their luggage at all times (or risk having them confiscated by security) that means my luggage has to go everywhere with me. Everywhere. Have you ever tried maneuvering a suitcase around those small washroom stalls? Now that’s a challenge! Or how about trying to lug it through a narrow lineup to get your morning coffee at an airport café? At least as long as my luggage was with me, I knew it was safe…at least for the time being!

I was famished after that long flight so once I had my luggage in hand, I looked for something to eat. After spending 7 days on vacation, I was pretty near broke so I couldn’t really settle for more than a bagel and a cookie at Tim Horton’s. I skipped the coffee out of fear the caffeine would keep me awake and it was hard enough trying to get some rest in a busy airport.

I wandered around for a bit trying to kill some time and tire myself out (I am usually wound up after a long flight for some reason) before actively seeking out a somewhat quiet area to set up camp for the night. I found a decent spot in a corner near some windows. I unfolded my travel blanket and refolded it in two so that I was lying on one half of it and the rest was covering me. With myself, my travel pillow, my cell phone (for an alarm) and my wallet (to prevent being robbed while I slept) securely inside the blanket, I positioned myself facing my luggage which I had strategically placed with the zippers facing me. I always feel a little unsecure when sleeping in the main area of any airport. Inside a gate, everyone has already been through security but in the main area, anyone can walk in off the street and that’s a little unnerving especially in these tense times. It gives me a very vulnerable feeling.

Within seconds of my head hitting the pillow, the airport suddenly seemed louder. Vacuum cleaners were going, shops were closing, people were coming and going, a man sleeping a few feet away from me was snoring loudly and car doors were being slammed just outside that window. But amidst all that racket, I managed to pick out one sound that finally drowned out all the rest and that’s the sound that rocked me to sleep….almost quite literally. Someone was tuning a guitar. It sounded faint at first and than it got louder. I took my head out from the warmth and darkness of my blanket and looked around. Across the hall, seated in another waiting area was a young man strumming a guitar. I tried not to let him see me so he wouldn’t think he was being too loud and stop. I just lay my head back down on my pillow and listened and in the midst of all the hustle and bustle that is Pearson International Airport, I fell asleep to the beautiful sounds of a guitar being strummed.

I awoke a few hours later to my cell phone vibrating and proceeded to check-in for my flight. This time, my flight was on time and I made it to Halifax long before the next shuttle to Cape Breton. I grabbed a Starbucks latte and took a seat in the long corridor between the check-in area and baggage pickup and patiently waited for my ride. By the time the shuttle arrived, I was exhausted…and disappointed to see that there was quite the crowd already onboard. But I was lucky this time because there were no seats in the back so I got to sit in the front and much to the disappointment of my friendly and chatty driver who wanted to hear more about my trip down south, I fell asleep and didn’t wake up until Antigonish. It wasn’t until we reached the Canso Causeway that that dreadful after-vacation feeling set in. Every time I make that drive from the Halifax Airport to Cape Breton, that same feeling hits me at that exact same place in the trip. The Causeway always signifies home even though my house is still another 2 hours away. That feeling I am talking about? The one where the realization hits that the vacation is over and it’s time to re-enter the real world. No more palm trees and sand. Just sub-zero temperatures and snow.

A Night on the Town in Barbados at Harbour Lights

I don’t usually drink nor do much partying when I’m on vacation but I do like to spend at least one night on the town. I usually travel alone so I am quite choosy about where I go and how I get there and back. While I was browsing those in-room brochures a few nights earlier, something caught my eye; Harbour Lights Beach Extravaganza. I didn’t feel comfortable wandering around alone at night looking for a nightclub to hang out and Harbour Lights included rides to and from the bar and dinner with their package. How many people can say they traveled to the Caribbean and had an entire beach to themselves? One of the upsides to traveling in the low season…there are not many tourists around!

Since this was my second-last full day in Barbados, I spent it at the beach, naturally. On this day, I opted to relax on my little “private” beach where I would be least likely to cross paths with my “salesman” friend and any other shady characters trying to sell me “jewelry”. I was right, I had the entire beach to myself and it was perfect!

One of the benefits to traveling in the low season - a beach all to myself!

Some hours later, I headed back to my apartment to get ready for the evening. I put on some makeup for the first time all week, carefully straightened my hair and changed into the one outfit I always take with me for that night spent on the town in the Caribbean - a fun, little, strappy sundress. In under an hour, I transformed myself from straggly beach bum to chic party girl.

A van picked me up at Angler around 6:30. It took about a half hour to get to Harbour Lights and the show didn’t start until about 7:30 so I had a little bit of time to wander around and mingle before the show started. The young man who was helping people to their seats seemed concerned that I was alone. “Well, we can’t have you sitting alone! Do you mind if I find a group of people for you to sit with for the evening?” he asked. “Sure, I’d love that!” He led me to the top level overlooking the stage and beach and asked a couple of girls from England if they minded if I sat with them. “Sure, of course!” I was surprised by how delighted they were to have a total stranger joining them. I was delighted as well. At home, the rare times that I do go to a bar or club alone to watch a band, I usually spend the night sitting at a table alone. No one approaches me and if I ask someone if I can join them at their table, they look at me like I have ten heads as if they still follow that rule their mother taught them as children “don’t talk to strangers”. A lot of people at home think this rule still applies after the age of 12 and well into adulthood. Mingling and meeting new people is a little taboo at home, so it seems.

Harbour Lights Beach Extravaganza

After introductions and Pina Coladas, we were called to the buffet table to get our meal and once again, like every other meal I had on my trip, it was delicious! Salads, macaroni pie, rice and some other things I’m not really sure what they were but they were equally delicious.

Not long after everyone had a meal in front of them, the show started and for about two hours, we were entertained by a steel band, fire eaters, limbo dancers and singers. It was quite entertaining but the only thing I didn’t like about it was the band and singers performed pop songs….songs by Rihanna and popular American singers. I would have liked to hear a more local sound. Yes, I know Rihanna is from Barbados but she hardly has a traditional Bajan sound to her music!

I accidentally left my phone on the table, turned my back for one second and when I turned back to grab it, the young man who had ushered me to my table earlier had it in his hands. He was typing something and when I tried to grab it from him, he held it in the air over my head. When I did get it back, his name and phone number was displayed in my contacts. Not exactly a subtle way of getting a girl’s attention but I’ve experienced much, much worse. Actually, this guy seemed quite polite, friendly and funny. He again approached me when I leaving at the end of the night. “So what are you doing tomorrow?” he asked. “Actually tomorrow is my last day so I’ll be packing and all that fun stuff” which was actually half true. He may very well have just wanted to hang out and show me around but I wasn’t taking any chances going alone with a complete and total stranger in a foreign country where I barely knew anyone.

The other thing I didn’t really like about the show was I had to leave earlier than I wanted to because the shuttle back to Derricks left at 11:00…but the party continued for a few more hours. I could have stayed longer but that would mean a very expensive cab back to my apartment or finding another way home which could be dangerous for a young woman, late at night in a strange place by herself. By 12:00, I was back at Angler. An early night for a night on the town but I suppose that was a good thing because my last day in Barbados was reserved for a long hike to Holtown and I planned to be up bright and early to try to make it there before the heat of mid-day.

A Trip to the Bottom of Bridgetown Harbour…in a Submarine!

I’ve always wanted to go snorkeling or scuba diving.  Everyone I know who’s been down south has tried it and they come back with stories of how peaceful and beautiful it is beneath the sea’s surface.  But, unfortunately for me being blind as a bat as I am, I wear glasses that carry a strong prescription and can’t see a bloody thing without them!  I wore contacts for years but after dealing with an infection caused by over-wearing them (and sometimes even sleeping with them and having to peel them off my eyes the next morning), my doctor told me I had to stop wearing them or risk losing my eyesight altogether.  That meant I would be wearing glasses for the rest of my life and glasses do not fit under the masks used for snorkeling and scuba diving.  I heard you can get masks with a prescription lens built into them but that would cost hundreds or even thousands of dollars and I was not prepared to shell out that kind of money.  While I was searching through my in-room brochures one evening, I came across an interesting alternative that would allow me to see what it’s like underwater; a trip to the great depths of Bridgetown Harbour in a real submarine.

The cost of this submarine trip was a little steep at $100.00 (CAN) but several people recommended it and said it was well worth it.  After the usual morning routine, I again found myself waiting for a bus to pick me up at the gate (transfers to and from Atlantis Submarines in Bridgetown were included so that was a plus).  After some stops at some of the resorts along the way to pick up other passengers, we arrived at the docks in Bridgetown.  The last tour hadn’t returned yet so we were asked to wait in the Atlantis Submarines main office building until the boat that would take us to the submarine returned to port.  As I browsed the gift shop, a conversation caught my attention.  “There was an earthquake?  Here?” I asked.  “Well, no not really.  It was closer to the nearby islands of Trinidad and St. Lucia but some people in Barbados claim they felt the ground shake a little bit”.  This was a little disappointing to me.  Not that I would want a destructive earthquake to occur anywhere but, just once, I would like to experience a little tremor just to see what it feels like.

As I was eying some neat-looking keychains to buy as souvenirs for people back home, a commotion started by the main doors.  A young man was being cornered by a group of women.  They were taking pictures and fawning over him like he was someone famous.  Well, apparently he was someone famous.  I heard of the show The Walking Dead but never watched an episode of it in my life.  It seems this man was a leading character on the show’s third season.  Some Vincent someone (I didn’t catch his last name) but die-hard fans of the show certainly knew who he was.  I watched this spectacle from afar.  I never really did get the fuss people make over famous people.  They are, after all, just people like you and me. 

A few minutes later, we were boarding a small ferry that would take us to the waiting submarine.  It took about twenty minutes to reach Atlantis and during that short ride, we listened to some safety instructions (I actually listened to these instructions as they were quite different from the safety instructions I heard over and over again on planes and ferries….we were boarding a submarine after all and there were some interesting, but unlikely, things that could go wrong) and watched the city get smaller and smaller as we sailed out to deeper waters.  When we reached our destination, the engines stopped and we waited.  There was no submarine in sight.  A few minutes later, it broke the surface.

With the help of a gangway and some very steep stairs, one by one, we boarded Atlantis, took our seats on front of some little round windows and sunk below the surface.  I was expecting my ears to pop or my head to feel like it was going to explode as we went deeper and deeper below the surface but no such thing happened.  It didn’t feel any different from sailing on a boat except we were underwater.  We dropped to just a few meters above the ocean floor to a depth of 150 feet and watched turtles, barracuda and thousands of colorful fish float by in that strange underwater world.  There were tons of strange marine plant life and a few shipwrecks too.  I was a little disappointed to learn that the shipwrecks were planned shipwrecks authorized by the government for recreational divers.  It would have been so much cooler if we were looking at sunken pirate ships but it was pretty cool anyway.  We went around a couple of reefs and went a little deeper for a while and before I knew it, the hour was up and we headed back to the surface…after the crew graced us with their rendition of My Heart Will Go On from the movie Titanic.  

 I enjoyed the tour.  Would I do it again?  Probably not.  In the future, if I think I will be spending a lot of time down south, I may just spring for one of those prescription masks.  Atlantis gave me the opportunity to see what it was like underwater but it didn’t give me the opportunity to feel what it is like and to be one with that strange world under the sea.     

    

The First Leg of my Trip to Barbados - Getting there was just part of the Fun

I awoke on the morning of December 4th like I do any other morning. My alarm went off, I hit the snooze button several times before I rolled over and checked my phone for messages. The only thing different about this morning was the bombardment of messages that came through while I was sleeping. Messages from friends and family that went along the line of “you must be so excited” and “today is the day, have a fun week” and “you are so lucky, I wish I was going with you…have a great trip”. At least the messages about my upcoming trip to Barbados were more positive than the ones I received in the weeks leading up to my departure. “You are going alone? Are you crazy?” “Don’t you know how dangerous it is to travel with all the things going on in the world?” “One of these days, you are going to get mugged, raped, kidnapped or murdered!” These were (and usually are) the messages I received when I announced I would be doing yet another solo trip. Sometimes I can’t tell if people are genuinely afraid for my well-being or if they are just jealous that I am going without them…because lets face it, traveling is really not all that dangerous. Period. And anyway, I would rather die doing something I enjoy rather than say dying in a car accident while pulling onto the highway on my way to work….or god forbid, by falling in the shower.

I’d already finished packing a few days earlier and only had to tuck away a few final items into my carry on. I had a long layover in Halifax so I made sure to pack things I would need to make myself presentable for the second leg of the journey. Toothpaste, toothbrush, deodorant, dry shampoo. Airports are dirty. Even at times when I only spent a few hours in one, I’m left feeling like I hadn’t showered in days. The last thing I want to do is get on a plane and share a small enclosed space with several hundred other tired and cranky passengers while smelling and looking like I haven’t showered in days. That would surely piss off a lot of people.

To some people, my carry-on might have looked a little bulkier and felt a little heavier than it should have but I always come prepared. If you ever had an airline lose your luggage, you know the importance of always packing at least one outfit, a bathing suit if you’re going to a warm climate and any other items you cannot live without into a carry on. Who wants to land in the sunny, hot Caribbean wearing the heavy parka, snow boots and long johns they were wearing when they left Canada only to realize that their shorts, tanks and swimsuit didn’t make it?

I only had a few last-minute items to take care of when 4PM rolled around. I made a stairs out of small boxes beside the bed so my cat could climb up (he’s getting older and has been having trouble jumping onto the bed where he likes to curl up under the blankets), unplugged all my electronics, hid my valuables deep in a closet and placed my suitcase and carry-on by the door and waited for my drive. My next stop was the university where I caught the shuttle that took me on the first leg of my long journey – a five-hour drive to the Halifax airport.

The drive to Halifax is usually quite long and boring. Normally, when I board one of those shuttles, I climb into one of the seats in the very back and fall asleep if it’s not too crowded. When it’s crowded, I spend five hours squashed into a seat with half of my belongings on top of me while listening to several conversations going on at once. I usually don’t get much rest on those trips. I knew this trip would be different after I met the driver. He cheerfully introduced himself. “Hi there. I will be your driver. My name is Luigi, like in the Super Mario Brothers game”. Sometimes, shuttle drivers just do their job and get passengers to their destination safely. Other times, they do more. I instantly got the feeling that this ride wouldn’t be long and dragged out like many of the others. From the time we left the parking lot at the university, I couldn’t get the guy to shut up, not that that was a bad thing. Time goes by quickly and long rides are made memorable when there is good conversation. I’m not sure how we got on the topics we discussed but the conversation flowed non-stop from the weird weather we were having, to where I was going for vacation, to what our plans for the upcoming Christmas holidays were and onto an in-depth conversation about working Out West. I picked up some tips about getting jobs in the lucrative oil fields where so many other Cape Bretoners were already working. Things like what camps are hiring, which ones are laying people off, which ones treat their employees the best and which ones are best avoided. All this transpired before we even reached the next stop.

After that first stop in Sydney River, it was onto our next stop at the Newfoundland ferry terminal to pick up a few more passengers and onto another stop on the Northside to pick up another passenger. I hate crowded shuttles and was beginning to feel a little uncomfortable with the number of people that were beginning to pile into the van. With only a few seats left, we arrived at the North Sydney Mall to pick up our last passenger, a young woman who was headed to Halifax to meet a friend, spend the night and drive back to Cape Breton the very next day with her friend who didn’t want to drive by herself. Have you ever instantly clicked with someone you just met? It doesn’t happen often but, every once and a while, I will meet someone that I instantly feel comfortable around and can talk to them about anything. That’s what it was like between me and that last passenger we picked up. All the way to Halifax, we talked non-stop about our jobs, our hobbies, our pets and everything else under the sun and before I knew it, we pulled up to the main entrance of the airport. A drive that usually feels like ten hours felt like 2 hours and I felt kind of sad about having to leave the group.

Before I walked away from the shuttle and into Atlantic Canada’s busiest airport, Luigi passed along some information that would help make my overnight stay in the airport a little more comfortable. He informed me that guests of his shuttle service could avail of a comfortable lounge located in the hotel attached to the airport. All I had to do was go to the 3rd floor of the hotel, confidently walk into the lounge like I owned the place and take a seat in one of the comfortable chairs. He advised me that it might be a good idea to buy a drink or something to eat at some point during the night so staff would leave me alone

Before I made my way over to that lounge I ventured into the main area of the airport to check on the status of my 7AM flight. The airport was busy with flights simultaneously arriving and leaving. The noise level and bright lights seemed more annoying than usual as I just spent five hours in a dark, relatively quiet mini-van on a dark highway. I quickly verified my flight, which thankfully, was on time, and walked over to the hotel to find that lounge.

I knew I found the right place when I walked into a dimly-lit lounge complete with soft Jazz music playing in the background and comfortable chairs and couches. What I wasn’t prepared for was the young man sitting behind a desk greeting every person who came in and out of the lounge. I had to come up with something quickly so to not rouse any suspicion so I just said “I’m looking for a place to relax before my midnight boarding call” thinking his shift would probably end before that time anyway. “Feel free to sit anywhere you like. The bar is still open and there are snacks available for purchase on the other side” was all he said.

I sunk into a huge, comfortable chair but I wasn’t ready to doze off yet. I was still wound up from the drive and had some phone calls I had to make. I was right about that employee’s shift ending before midnight. At least I assume that’s what happened to him. One minute he was there and than I didn’t see him again for the rest of the night. That meant I could stay there and take a nap without anyone suspecting a thing. But just to be on the safe side, I bought something to eat before my eyes got too heavy. For the not-so-small price of $17.00, I got a cookie, a bottle of water and a child’s portion of microwaveable “specialty” macaroni and cheese. Typical airport fare and prices.

I finished my “meal” and once again sunk into that big comfy chair and nodded off with the help of soft ambient light and relaxing jazz music. I slept surprisingly well, waking only when my phone, which was tucked underneath my arm, vibrated to let me know it was time to head to the airline check-in counter. I am so glad I discovered that little secret lounge. Usually when I have to spend the night at the Halifax airport, I end up trying to sleep on a hard airport chair in the midst of all the sounds that airports make. I felt like a million bucks as I headed to the check-in counter after having one of my best airport overnights ever and it only cost me $17.00!

When it comes to airports and flying, I usually have bad luck. Delayed or cancelled flights, annoying seat mates, lost luggage and dealing with rude or just plain ignorant airport and airline employees are just some of the common things I come across when traveling anywhere that involves flying. This time, however, I happened upon a good luck streak. You know how most airlines have decided to charge for that first checked baggage? Well, when I checked in with WestJet and told the lady at the counter I had one bag to check, she looked up my flight and said my bag had already been paid for. I knew, 100% fact, that I did not pay for that bag but she still insisted on letting it go for free! Right off the bat, I saved 25 bucks! I didn’t choose my seat when I booked the flight and usually when I don’t choose my seat, they automatically put me in the aisle at the very back of the plane but this time, they placed me in a window seat near the front of the plane! I took my seat and watched as passenger after passenger took up seats all around me but no one took any of the two seats next to me. I ended up with an entire row to myself so I could stretch out and take up as much of the arm rests as I liked. No one falling asleep on the arm rest to prevent me from changing the station on the seat-back television and no one to crawl over to go to the bathroom. I never have luck that good when I’m flying.

The 1.5-hour flight to Toronto Pearson went as usual: Leave Halifax, land in Toronto, get off plane, run at top speed to terminal 3, board another plane. The final 6.5-hour flight to my final destination also went without incident. A little bit of turbulence, the discovery that WestJet no longer offers Bits and Bites(they offered pretzels instead and I don’t really like pretzels) and some trouble finding a pen with which to fill out the customs sheet they always pass out mid-flight to international destinations is all I have to report for that leg of my journey.

Before I knew it, the pilot announced our descent towards Bridgetown and that sparkling blue-green water the Caribbean is known for along with hundreds of sailboats sailing along the coast got closer and closer. I was itching to get off the plane after the long flight and was thankful to be seated so close to the exit…except, the flight crew decided that we would be exiting via the back door instead. And that folks, is when my luck started to go downhill.

I finally disembarked from the aircraft into the sun and heat of mid-day in Bridgetown, Barbados. There was no gate, we just walked off the plane, down a moveable stairway and right onto the open tarmac. I started to follow some people who were walking towards what I thought was the arrivals area when an airport employee started to wave at me. That is when I noticed another group of people heading in another direction towards a bus and another employee started waving at me to go that way. Tired and confused, I just stood there looking back and forth at these two people waving me to go in two different directions. Finally, another passenger on my flight informed me that we go to the waiting bus that takes us to the arrivals area. Who knew? Not I. Welcome to Central America. It seems I run into similar situations whenever I travel to this part of the world. Had something like this happened at Toronto’s Pearson International, with a disembarking passenger roaming aimlessly on the tarmac, security would have been on top of me. Trust me I know…if you’ve been following this blog for a while, you may have read about the “little” security issue I ran into at Pearson several years ago when I was returning from Mexico.

My bad luck didn’t stop there. I entered the non-air-conditioned immigration area of the airport only to be greeted by a huge lineup of passengers waiting to get through. So much for getting that “lucky” seat close to the front of the plane. I was literally at the very back of the line that ended up taking two hours to clear not including customs and baggage pick-up. I worried my shuttle driver would be looking for me so I turned on my cell-phone to access my email and see if she left me a message. I thought most airports had free Wi-fi but this elusive, free airport Wi-fi never seems to work for me and it didn’t on this occasion. I didn’t have an international data plan on my phone but figured a few seconds wouldn’t cost much. I logged on, quickly checked my email, found nothing from my driver and quickly turned off my data…and was greeted with a text message from my service provider stating that I had just been charged $25.00 for accessing data overseas. I saved $25.00 on baggage fees and ended up using it for outrageous data fees. So much for getting a little ahead.

An hour into that long wait, I was so hungry I ransacked my carry-on for any leftover snacks and found a half eaten bag of chips. The woman behind me was practically licking her lips as she watched me devour the chips and said “oh my, those look so good right now”. I just smiled awkwardly and slowly turned around avoiding anymore eye contact with her. I guess I could have shared. Is it wrong that I didn’t? Nah…two thoughts went through my head at that moment: 1) I don’t want some stranger’s germy hands in my chips and 2) I’m hungry and they're my chips – get your own chips! Ok so I was a little cranky and selfish by that time.

I finally cleared the necessary evils of international travel, exited the airport and looked for the area where cabs and “cabs” wait and harass travelers who don’t know any better with “hey miss, I give you best deal on cab ride anywhere in city” and “Where are you going miss….ah yes, I was sent to pick you up, come along” and the like. But I know better after almost being “kidnapped” by some timeshare salespeople pretending to be my ride at the airport in Cancun a few years earlier. I always do my research before I go anywhere now and learn what color cabs are the safest and most legit to take and to always get the names of shuttle drivers who are meeting me and never give out my intended destination or name to anyone even if they are driving a legit-looking cab. It wasn’t hard to find my driver, Sandra, as she was standing out front holding a sign with my first and last name on it. We walked to her van and I made my first mistake in this new and unfamiliar country; I went around to the right side of the vehicle and got in the passenger side…except it wasn’t the passenger side. I forgot that Bajans drive on the left and I found myself sitting behind the wheel with my driver asking “are you driving” and with an embarrassed chuckle, I got out and walked around to the actual passenger side.

Traffic was heavy by that time so we took a short cut. Sandra drove quite fast but made her way around the many roundabouts and lane changes like a pro. I always love the rides from the airport to the hotel. These rides are my first taste of a new place and I got to see quite a bit of the island on that drive to Angler Apartments in Derricks on the west coast of the island.