The Songs that Take me Back Down Those Forgotten Roads

Many things bring back memories but for me, the one thing that can conjure up any memory, good or bad, is music. Every relationship I’ve been in had a theme song that reminds me of that person. Every bad breakup also has a song (unfortunately, one particular song, which happens to be one of my favourite songs, reminds me of a person I’d rather forget!).

There are songs that remind me of my childhood friends, people who passed away, people who moved away, moments I never want to forget and moments I wish never happened but can laugh at now.

There are also those songs that remind me of memorable things that have happened on the road or while traveling abroad.  Those songs set the backdrop for some interesting, sometimes funny and always unforgettable moments where people from different backgrounds and cultures were united in a moment of togetherness even when language wasn’t a common factor.

I can trace the connection between music and travel back to my grade school years when my class would pile into an old school bus and travel to various places around Cape Breton for field trips. All the way to our destination, we sang songs. Even the bus driver would join in.

The 90s - Teenage Rebellion and Walkmans

Road trips with my parents were much the same until I hit my teenage years and music took on a different form. It was no longer “cool” to sing along to campfire-like songs with my parents; My Walkman (yes, Walkman – it was the 90’s) was my steady companion on those long trips and I often retreated into my own little world as I watched the world go by through the car window. 

 

MC Hammer, Vanilla Ice, C+C Music Factory and Technotronic. Again, it was the 90s.  My parents hated this because they saw it as me removing myself from their circle and being anti-social. I saw it as me discovering my own taste in music and setting my own soundtrack to the memories that were being made.

As I got older, I started leaving the portable music player at home and listened to the radio instead. I developed a taste in music similar to my mother’s. Dwight Yoakam, The Rolling Stones, The Eagles, The Garrison Brothers, The BeeGees, Sheryl Crow and Nana Mouskouri. I started to appreciate well-written song lyrics and real instruments. Folk music, country music, rock music, world music.  I developed quite a diverse taste in music!

Now, when I hear “The Streets of Bakersfield” by Dwight Yoakam and Buck Owens or Roger Miller's version of "Me and Bobby McGee" I'm taken back to the days when Mom and I would drive around town with our coffee. 

The songs "Silver Seas" and "Massachusetts" bring me back to the days of watching mom carefully prepare dinner. Boney M's Christmas Album brings happy tears to my eyes because it reminds me of the time-honoured Christmas tradition of decorating the house with that album playing so loud, the whole house would shake. 

When I got my first car, the first things I did were make a bunch of mix tapes and CDs and raid the cheap bin at Wal Mart where they sold old cassettes of long-forgotten bands from the 70s and 80s. 

"Perry Mason" - Ozzy Osbourn - First Cape Breton Road Trip on my Own

When it comes to special memories made on the road, there are many and each one can be paired with a song. I remember the day I got my first car quite well. My parents surprised me with a white 1989 Honda Accord. I grabbed some tapes from my bedroom and jumped in the car to embark on my first solo mission behind the wheel of my very own car. Well, not really solo. I tool my sisters along. 

I remember the song that was playing when I pulled out of the driveway; Ozzy Osbourne’s “Perry Mason”. A few months later, I furnished that car with a brand new, state-of-the-art sound system with amps, subwoofers and a CD player, top of the line in those days! That faithful little Honda was my sanctuary for 6 road-trip-filled years. I figured I had put that poor car through enough when the odometer reached 425,000 kilometres.

The summer before I moved away for college, I took one last trip around TheCabot Trail. I still remember the song that was playing on the radio when I found myself driving along the lonely country road through the Margaree Valley; “Strawberry Wine” by Deanna Carter. 

  

The Harmonica Player

When I moved to Newfoundland in 2000, my car came with me.  The night of the ferry crossing from Cape Breton to Argentia was one filled with bitter-sweet emotions.  I was homesick before the ferry even docked but excited to be going on that new journey.  As I stood on the outside deck of that ferry and watched my hometown get smaller and smaller and the waters around me become dark and rough as we crossed into the open ocean, loneliness swept over me.

 Then, I heard a sound coming from above me in the shadows of the upper deck. It sounded like a harmonica. I followed the sounds until I noticed a shadow on a bench in a far corner. A young man was playing the harmonica and soon, that young man joined the band in the main lounge for a lively set that had me forgetting my sorrow for just a little while. 

 

"Sweet Child of Mine" - Guns N' Roses - Theme Song of my Youth (Or perhaps my entire generation)

Everyone has that one song that takes them back to the best years of their life.  That song for me is Sweet Child of Mine by Guns N' Roses.  Driving around the backroads of St. John's and touring the outports outside the city while a carload of us sing to this song at the top of our lungs is one of my fondest memories but this song was the backdrop to so many epic moments of my life.  

"Billy Jean" - Michael Jackson - My Song

 Everyone has that one song that everyone else knows as their song.  For me, it's Billy Jean.  I'm sure everyone on George St. in St. John's knew it was my song.  I know almost every DJ did!  I wouldn't have to say anything when I approached their booth.  They just knew and next thing you know, my song would be on. 

I liken my reaction to the first few beats of the song as the reaction you get from a cat who hears a can of tuna being opened...running to the dance floor, usually a few sheets to the wind but always with the intention of savouring every moment that song graced the interior of whatever club I happened to be in. 

 "Dirty Old Town" - The Pogues - St. John's, Newfoundland

I moved to St. John's, Newfoundland just out of High School so the first 11 years of my adulthood were spent there so I was heartbroken when I had to leave.  

 The night before I departed the city for good, I managed to get all of my friends together for one last night on George Street.  We hit all of our favourite haunts, enjoyed some of our favourite local bands, drank, ate and had a blast.  We ended the night at the same place we ended every other night we got together on George St. over the last 11 years.   

At last call, as I savoured my last Vodka and cranberry a familiar song came on. Fittingly, the song had been sort of a theme song for my life in St. John's.  Fittingly, Dirty Old Town was the last song that played that night. When I want to return to that special night many years ago, all I have to do is close my eyes and listen to that song and I'm taken back there. 

 

"We no Speak Americano" - Yolanda be Cool - Playa Del Carmen Mexico

A trip to Mexico many years ago turned into a complete disaster and in the background of every horrible moment that week, the song “We No Speak Americano” by Yolanda be Cool was blaring through the speakers in the common area of the hotel. I’m not sure why the staff had such an obsession with that particular song but even when I hear it today, I have flashbacks to that horrible week in Playa Del Carmen.

 

"Mambo #5" - Lou Bega - Varadero, Cuba

My trip to Cuba the following year was much better. The only problem? I had the song “Mambo #5” by Lou Bega stuck in my head for weeks after I returned home! For some reason, this song was played over and over again in the common areas of the resort. Now every time I hear that song, it reminds me of that week.\

 

 

"Freedom 90" - George Michael - Montezuma, Costa Rica

 And then there was Costa Rica, one of my most memorable trips. A week spent at a yoga retreat in paradise. I was too tired to walk back to the retreat after an evening spent wandering the little surf village of Montezuma so I hailed a cab. My driver couldn’t speak a word of English and we both struggled to communicate. After some pointing and hand gestures and broken words in English and Spanish, he understood where I wanted to go. We started the short journey up that steep hill to Anamaya Yoga Retreat in silence until he turned on the radio. One might assume that a Spanish song would be playing on a local station in a Spanish-speaking country but it was an English song. My driver recognized the song and that man who could not speak a word of English only a few minutes earlier began to sing along to George Michael’s “Freedom 90” at the top of his lungs…in clear, unbroken English!

 

Over the course of my life, I have had many such unplanned and unforgettable moments and I feel fortunate to have those memories and to be able to remember the songs that bring me back to those special moments frozen in time. Someday, I may forget those memories and I can only hope that the sound of a particular song will bring me back. I believe music has that much power. I’ve experienced that power many times.

 

Dreaming of the Caribbean Sea...Again

My parents loved to travel so naturally, as a child, I developed a need to wonder and see the world beyond my back yard. My travels started with small road trips around Cape Breton and the rest of Nova Scotia and Atlantic Canada and graduated to bigger trips that included one month-long journey along the Eastern Seaboard from Maine to Florida. Over the years my travels brought me on many adventures in central and western Canada, the southwestern United States, Mexico, Cuba and soon Costa Rica and the northwestern United States. I wish I could time travel back to those carefree days.  Lately, I've been wishing I could time travel back to the days I spent on the Caribbean Sea.

Up until two years ago, the Caribbean didn’t really appeal to me unless it was Caribbean flavors in my food or Caribbean music on the radio. I mean, I love beaches and warm weather but the all-inclusive resort vacations full of drinking, eating and partying didn’t sound like much fun to me. I like to drink once and a while, I like to eat and I like a good party from time to time, but wasting hundreds of dollars traveling to a far-flung destination to participate in activities I can do at home was just not what I wanted out of my vacations so I never considered a vacation “down south”. Places like Europe and Asia always appealed to me because I love culture and history and it is so easy to see a variety of different cultures on those continents. Europe with its castles, world-renowned museums and historical sites and Asia with its culture that is so vastly different from my own; these places always made the forefront of my travel aspirations. That all changed when I accepted a last minute invitation to accompany a friend on a trip to the Caribbean and not only was it the Caribbean, it was southern Mexico (the Riviera Maya), a country I was under the impression I should stay away from, not flock to because of all the violence that was supposedly happening in the country.

Because it was my first time traveling to the area and I had only seen pictures of the beautiful Caribbean sea and its white sandy beaches, I really had no idea what to expect when it came to seeing it with my own eyes rather than photoshopped magazine photos. Upon my arrival at the airport in Cancun, I was bombarded with “friendly” and seemingly helpful locals who I learned were only trying to “kipnap” me and take me on an unscheduled detour to try and sell me a timeshare. At least they were friendly about it and backed off when I politely said I was not interested unlike the aggressive salespeople here at home. The real shock came when I finally made it to my destination in Playa Del Carmen and the beach I would be spending the majority of my time on during my stay. Photoshopped or not, those magazine pictures didn’t compare to the real thing. The beaches with their soft, white sand free from seaweed and rocks and the Caribbean Sea with its crystal clear waters were more beautiful then I ever imagined. Combined with the hot temperatures, long sunny days and clear warm nights, I had truly found paradise and discovered what everyone was talking about when they said how magical and otherworldly the Caribbean was. For that week, it was almost like time stopped. The days were long and relaxing and a week felt more like a month. Clocks were never given a second look and the people, visitors and locals alike, seemed to just enjoy living the good life on the beach and were relaxed even while going about their daily chores. And did I mention that I not once wirnessed nor heard of any violent acts happening in the area during my entire stay and I felt 100% safe at all times even when I ventured off alone and took a public bus to Tulum to visit the Mayan Ruins. There were, of course, the Policia Tourista, who strutted around with their menacing, machine-gun looking weapons strapped across their chests so I assumed they needed such devices for a reason. That reason was never made clear to me; I was only told not to do anything that might ruffle their feathers and give them any excuse to use any force and in Mexico, apparently that can mean one of a few things. So this is how it all went down on my first Caribbean vacation. I was hooked. And I vowed to return to that magical place again someday. That someday came the very next spring when I booked a last minute trip to Varadero, Cuba. Same region, same sea but different music, different food and….a completely different world.

So on this chilly, wet and dark Canadian East Coast evening, I am dreaming of the Caribbean Sea and my next trip down south. I’m dreaming of the soft white sand, the warm clear waters, the hot sun, the upbeat people, the sounds of the beautiful Spanish language, the rhythm of steel drums and salsa beats echoing through the alleys, the warm and clear nights spent listening to the surf and the relaxing way of life of a people who take afternoon siesta and their love of life, despite the harsh realities of poverty and certain political unrest, seriously.

Last March I was dreaming of these exact same things when I went online in search of a good deal on a Caribbean vacation. I just wanted to have a look at what was available with no intentions in actually booking a trip. After all, I was between jobs at the time and in the middle of a move from one province to another and money and time was scarce. By the end of my search, I had a 7-night all-inclusive vacation booked. The combination of being hypnotized by the pictures of beautiful beaches and the realization that I had enough points built up to take a vacation were the two main things that did me in. A couple of weeks later, I jetsetted off to one of the Caribbean’s most revered and unique destinations; Cuba – home of some of the planet’s most beautiful beaches, the world’s best cigars, Salsa and the Mojito.

I landed at the airport near Varadero after midnight and was immediately ushered to a shuttle bus that would take me to my home away from home for the next week, Arenas Doradas Beach Resort. It reminded me of when I first landed in Cancun and went through the same routine to get to The Real Playa Del Carmen. I had arrived in Playa to a small and laid back resort with colorful villas and hammocks scattered about the courtyard and was greeted by a friendly and accommodating staff who ensured that I was comfortable and well-taken care of during my entire stay. I assumed I would get the same reception upon my arrival in Varadero but instead I exited the shuttle bus and was greeted with loud and drunk spring break revelers and a worn-out and stressed out staff who seemed as irritated as I was upon arriving at what should have been a relaxing seaside vacation where I could sit pool or beachside during the day and quietly sip a Mojito while reading a good book. The next morning was much of the same. I don’t think those loud-mouthed revelers slept a wink the night before as they were still doing cannonballs in the swimming pool at 9AM, the taps still flowing. I stayed away from that pool for the rest of the week. I knew it was not the locals who were causing the massive disruption to what should be a relaxing holiday; it was mostly people from back home, my home province of Nova Scotia and other Canadian provinces along with a few Australians and Europeans. But the pool was no big loss for me; I traveled all that distance to spend time at the beach and explore the nearby cities of Matanzas and Havana and take a few tours of the countryside where I would get the true Cuban experience. And that is exactly what I did.

The beach was my first experience with the local people besides the frenzied staff at the resort. I was approached numerous times by curious locals who wanted to learn a few English phrases and find out where I came from and why I chose Cuba as my vacation destination. These conversations were never interrupted by cell phone calls, or texts to rush to a business meeting. The people I met were friendly, accommodating and interesting. They held onto my every word and were eager to tell me about their everyday lives. The zest for life I saw in the people I met, the constant smiles and welcoming gestures and positive attitudes was something foreign to me. I barely knew anyone back home I could carry on a decent conversation with (without being interrupted by their stories of what happened to their favorite characters on TV the night before or by a text rudely answered in the middle of a conversation) and you would think it would kill them to crack a smile once and a while. Guess I can’t blame the folks here at home for being a bit crabby. After all, the average Canadian works more than 40 hours a week, has bills and household business to take care of on the weekend along with the other obligations that come with living in our rat-race world (and the fact that we don’t live on the beach 365 days a year). Wash, rinse repeat…over and over again until we retire...if the stress doesn’t kill us first. The people I met in Cuba all had jobs and were well-educated but family, friends and living life each day as it comes was at the forefront of Cuban life. Yes, many Cubans have problems that most Canadians don’t face every day. Poverty, lack of faith in government to make things better and lack of freedom of speech. But what the Cubans do well is take everyday in stride as to not let these adversities stop them from living the one life they have to enjoy. The people up north could learn something from these people down south. And yes, because you ladies who have never ventured to a Latin American country are probably wondering, the men are very forward – but not in the way you may think. I was approached numerous times by very “friendly” men on the beach, in the clubs, on the street and everywhere else that their radar could reach. What may surprise you is, although these men were only looking for one thing, they were always polite, they were never aggressive and they always accepted my firm, but polite “no” to their invitations to go dancing at Tropicana or to take a drive to Havana and get the grand tour from a local. I can’t say the same for some of the men who have approached me here at home. I never had to call the police to report a stalker or physically aggressive, wannabe suitor in Latin America but similar things have happened more times than I can count here. And take “no” for an answer? I don’t think most of the men I meet on my travels up North even understand the word! That being said, I wandered the beach, the streets and the clubs alone at all hours of the day and never felt like I was in any danger at any point during the entire trip…except for some aggressive and very drunk Canadians who tried to throw me in the pool one night on my way back to my villa and some football-crazed Germans who literally forced me to sit with them for hours in front of the lobby TV while they cheered on their team who barely scored a goal the entire time. But despite some of the negative things that transpired during my week in Cuba, I had a spectacular time and the end result was the same; I came back to Canada feeling rejuvenated, refreshed and awakened in more ways than I can count.

Now you understand why I am always dreaming about returning to this very special region in Central America. Here in Cape Breton, the temperatures are hovering at 0 degrees Celcius, the days are getting shorter, the sun will scarcely make an appearance for the next 6 to 8 months, snow will soon blanket the ground and remain there until late April and I’m on my way to work the night shift where I do the same ol’ thing every night at the same time. Wash, rinse, repeat…Well, at least I won’t have to wait too long for my next jaunt down south; It may not be the Caribbean but I will be arriving in San Jose, Costa Rica only a mere five months from now to enjoy a week-long yoga retreat/beach holiday in Montezuma. Yes, only five months…which will probably be the longest five months of my life but the wait will be well worth it when I, once again, set foot on a long sandy beach and plant myself amongst the beach huts and cabanas surrounded by swaying palm trees with a tropical drink in my hand while time stands still and the rat race back home seems like a distant memory of a long-forgotten past life.

Mexico, Cuba and all the other islands and coastlines of central America that border the Caribbean sea: Each and every one has something unique to offer visitors but one thing always holds true once one makes that first journey to the Caribbean; the sand, the sea, and the people will change you and you will forever be dreaming of the next time you will be there again!

So where is the Caribbean? It's a magical place located in the Atlantic Ocean far enough south to be tropical. Which Caribbean island is best for you? I can't answer that for you but I can say that all of the ones I've seen have everything I'm looking for in a great vacation...great food, cultural experiences, friendly people, sandy beaches and nice weather!