DAY THREE: Monday, 10
May 2010
For Dave,
the day started at 6 am (Lee doesn’t like the morning, and likes to sleep
in). Grabbing some almonds, a bottle of pink
crack (mixed in water), and the camera, Dave was out on the beach watching the
sun rise again. This time, Dave moved a
bit northeastward (closer to Club Med) where a part in the buildings provided a
good view. The sky where the sun came up
was a bright orange.
Dave then began walking up the
shore past Club Med, past the Ocean’s Club and Tuscany , and into parts that hadn’t been
developed yet. First Dave was going to
go to these rocks he saw in the distance, and after arriving there Dave then
decided to go to this point further up, and then to that point. You get the idea. Dave had entered the Leeward section, which
is the northeastern most area of Provo . It was about a mile-and-a-half up, to the
point where Dave finally turned around and started heading back. Figure another half-mile and Dave would’ve
rounded the Leeward point. The heat of
the day was starting to come in, pushing it towards the upper 70s, and it was
about 9ish when Dave was back at the RWI beach (where Lee was already out
enjoying the sun).
After another beach breakfast of
blueberry muffins, there were a few hours of lounging, swimming, and more
lounging. Around noon, Dave & Lee
got cleaned up, and decided to drive out towards the Blue Hills region. While the main objectives would be the South
Caicos Basket Co-Op and lunch at Horse-Eyed Jack’s (both places visited on the
previous trip), Dave & Lee were going to follow Mark’s advice and head up
towards the Northwest Point Nature Preserve.
Dave was hoping to find a birthday present for his Mum at the Co-Op, as
Lee had gotten a really nice basket there before.
Hindsight being 20-20, that last
part wasn’t necessarily the brightest idea in the world.
Following the hand-drawn map and
Mark’s verbal instructions, we went up the Millennium Highway thru the Blue Hills
region, up towards Wheeland. Reaching a
four-way intersection, it didn’t match the first “Y” that was on Mark’s
map. The paved road had ended at the
four corners. The right looked like it was
going to residential. Mark had said it
would be a packed sand & rock road, and fine for the non-four wheel drive
Corolla we had. Straight ahead was just
dirt road, with no evidence of anything beyond it. The left fork seemed to be more of a direct route,
so left it was. That was Problem Number
Two. Never go left, you can’t go wrong
if you go right.
What was Problem Number One? Following the damn hand-drawn map in the
first place.
Following the left fork, it was a
rather curvy rocky road it turned out, which you needed to go slow on to make
sure you didn’t jack up the suspension.
A few minutes into this sojourn, we got our first sign this was the
incorrect choice of action. A school
bus-like vehicle (dirt light brown, not bright ugly yellow) came barreling down
the road in the center. Ok, an isolated
incident. A half-mile later we were
passed by a cop driving a normal speed.
We were sure he was probably wondering what those stupid white tourists
were doing out here.
(Just as an aside, with a large
portion of the population being made of Caribbean
islanders, which are escaped and/or freed slave descendants, and a bunch of
Haitian transplants, about 85% of the island is black. The white residents are those work in the
resorts, or own property at the marinas.
Just an observation there to remind the reader that we were not in America
where simply being white exempts you from entanglements with the law.)
The term “outback” might describe
this area pretty well. There was low
scrub instead of trees. An except for
the occasional vehicle that breezed past us (creating a thick dirt cloud),
there was no sign of human habitation.
No houses nearby. No side roads
with a mailbox. Nothing. When we did get some elevation, the view we
were seeing was very good of the water … if only we could actually get
there. Some of the road had a washed out
ditch on the side, and some parts had a steep gully. This was no place where you wanted to get
stranded, much less have a medical emergency.
After being on this road for about
two miles, we saw a sign that said “Malcolm
Point
Dave & Lee decided while they
didn’t know where they were, it was certainly not where we wanted to be. It was time to make a tactical retreat, do a
three-point turn, and withdraw back to the four corners (which was a now a couple
miles back).
Slow and steady, we picked our way
along the road, and returned to that familiar landmark. Later investigation confirmed the area we
were in was not suggested for non-four wheel drive vehicle, as we had been
heading towards Malcolm
Point
At the four corners, Dave & Lee
took what would’ve been the “straight ahead” course the first time (now simply
another left). This section of the road
was packed dirt, so the travelling was much easier. Going up that section we passed driveways and
could see houses at the side of the road, so we weren’t completely removed from
civilization. Reaching a roundabout
(which was odd, because there were no side roads, but it was on Mark’s map),
Dave & Lee were able to gauge where we were on the Mark Map. About two miles up we found the sign for the
Northwest Point Resort. Hotel to the
right, Nature Reserve straight ahead.
But after seeing a four wheel drive turn around and come back from the
road to the Nature Reserve, the drinks at Horse-Eyed Jack’s were sounding better
and better. The whole idea of going up
to the Reserve was wisely abandoned.
Back in the Blue Hills, we found
the South Caicos Basket Co-Op was no longer there, so soon Dave & Lee were
at the lunch destination. Gilligan’s Island huts with a beach-front view, Cheers atmosphere,
and free Wi-Fi, this is Horse-Eyed Jack’s.
When we explained to our server about where we had been heading, the
server told us that was not a place they wanted to attempt to go. A young couple nearby commented they had a
similar experience trying to get out to Pirate’s Cove, and that was how they
ended up at Horse-Eyed Jack’s.
The server told Dave & Lee
about the rough currents out by Malcolm and Northwest Point which had killed
two snorkeling tourists recently. The lady had apparently been caught in an
undertow and drowned. It was unclear as
to what happened to the guy as they hadn’t found him yet, but the server’s
theory was “he was eaten by a shark or something.”
At Horse-Eyed Jack’s, Dave had his
requisite “Cheeseburger in Paradise ,” washed
down with a Guinness.
Heading back towards RWI, Dave
considered taking a route similar to what Todd had done, which would take us
past Turtle Cove and The Bight, and would eventually bring us towards the
Saltmills. Considering the driving
adventure we’d already had today, and that it would require an initial left
turn (bad sign!), Dave just stayed on the Leeward Highway which we knew.
Traffic on the way back to RWI was
buzzing past us, and Dave had the speedometer on 40 (as it was in KPH). Dave passed a sign that said “40,” and he
recalled that was the speed limit on highways (20 thru settlements). The conclusion was the natives just drove
faster than the posted limits. After
all, Houston (as
an example), the posted limit was 70 mph, and everyone drives frakkin’ 90! It was later when Dave confirmed his mental
retardation had struck again. The speed
limit was actually 40 _MPH_, not KPH. 40
MPH equals 65 KPH. The road signs were
in miles (which Dave had forgotten), and our speedometer was in kliks. Future reference would just be to drive 10-15
kilometers higher than what was posted, and all should be good.
After some resting for the
afternoon, again Lee wasn’t hungry for dinner.
There had been a number of places Dave wanted to try, and the trick was
to hit as many as possible. The second
trick was to back at the beach by 6.45 pm to stake a seat to watch the sunset
which would happen in the next half-hour.
Dave & Lee had gotten some awesome sunset shots the night before,
but we wanted to capture the “green glow” that was suppose to happen if there
were no clouds. Conditions tonight
looked favorable.
Lee had her raspberry beach drinks,
and Dave his banana colada (followed by his rum punches). Drinks in hand, we watched another beautiful
sunset. No green glow this time, as
there were a couple small clouds in the sky.
After dark, there was a short stroll northwestward up the beach to the
abandoned dock and back. At that time,
we weren’t sure which resort this “mystery dock” used to belong to, but Dave
was guessing it was either South Fleetwood or
Tradewinds (based on map information).
Relaxing back at the room, Dave
& Lee were noticing a pattern of differences since the last time we were
here. The tourist season in TCI is
mid-November to mid-April, so each time we were here it was around two weeks
outside season (not quite “off-season” when everything was closed). But on this visit, there seemed to be less
people present in general. Last visit,
Sunday was “public beach day,” where a large number of the locals come out to
the good tourist beaches. Dave was
prepared for that (and the locals are not annoying, by the way), but the locals
didn’t show up for “public beach day” at all.
Who knows if that is still even done?
Dave has no problem with less
people. In fact, he prefers it. Large groups of people tend to be noisy and
ruin the pristine serenity of the natural places Dave likes. Less people on the beach in the morning, and
less people seen frequenting the Mango Reef (the restaurant and bar attached to
RWI). In fact, last visit here there was
loud partying going on every night at the Mango Reef, and this time it was very
subdued. Still, as it was quieter, thus
it was more enjoyable.
Dave & Lee each commented who
we couldn’t imagine what it would be like to be here at peak season, when all
the villa’s are filled and you’re fighting for a chair (much less a spot) on
the beach.
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