Steve and Mary Go To The Bahamas
Day 1
Our flight from Montreal to New York City left at 6:00 a.m. This meant of course
that we had to be at the airport at 4:00 a.m. Security officials at this time in
the morning function physically, but not mentally. Some had difficulties
distinguishing between a human being and a set of golf clubs. This caused major
problems when the golf bags were asked to walk through metal detectors. I was
asked to remove my shoes to the delight of a Dr. Scholl representative behind
me. U.S. customs officials require that you submit your life story include
horrific toilet training incidents that occurred throughout your childhood.
Fortunately, ours was satisfied with the form we filled out, except for the
crude caricature of George Bush scribbled in the top left-hand corner.
After we cleared customs, Mary excitedly wanted to use her Starbucks gift card
at Starbucks. Alas, this was a private Starbucks. They did not accept gift cards
or anything else other than a minimum one hundred dollar purchase.
The plane, naturally featured legroom designed for human beings with no legs. A
boy behind me enjoyed pounding on the back of my seat with legs (his legs
apparently were small enough to be allowed on the plane). My head connected with
enough T.V. monitors to eventually postpone the highly anticipated screening of
Bridget Jones, The Edge of Reason. Only the women on the plane seemed troubled
by this... I received extra bags of pretzels from the men...
De-icing is quite a procedure in Montreal. It involves one operator responsible
for 500 planes. Fortunately, ours was 259th in line so we eventually had the
pleasure of watching him shoot hundreds of gallons of cotton candy like
substance on the wings. Now that the wings were dripping wet with a toxic, gooey
substance, I felt safe to fly. A further delay at LaGuardia in New York (they
forget we were coming and didn't prepare a gate) caused us to worry about
catching our connection.
HOWEVER, our plane to Nassau was still there. As we boarded, a mostly American
audience seared our skin with their fiery gazes. They were all told an hour ago
that the plane was waiting for a late arrival from Canada. I was unfortunate
enough to be wearing a T-shirt with a bright red Canadian flag on it. Afterwards
though, we all found out that the plane was delayed due to a mechanical failure,
not tardy Canadians. Later on, the poor mechanic accidentally sprayed a chemical
compound in his eyes (probably more of that cotton-candy stuff).
A six-hour delay at LaGuardia netted us each a $7.00 airport food voucher. We
happily purchased a pack of gum with our newfound fortune. Soon, an announcer
happily screamed over the intercom that they were flying a new plane in from JFK
airport to replace ours. Although it would probably take less time to us to walk
to JFK to meet the plane, it finally arrived after giving Japanese tourists an
aerial tour of the New York City harbour.
I pleaded to be seated in the famed emergency exit row with room for at least
part of a human limb. What Mary and I did receive on this brand-spanking new
Boeing 767 was a 1st class compartment all to ourselves. Let me tell you... I've
never been more comfortable on a plane. The electronic seat had 37 seating
configurations. I gradually mastered controlling this until my wife threatened
to request another screening of Bridget Jones, The Edge of Reason.
The personal T.V. that came along with this 1st class assignment provided
airline statistics that boggled the mind. It mentioned interesting information
such as airspeed, altitude, distance to our destination and the outside air
temperature. It did contain some unusual stats such as current expiry dates of
our packaged airplane food, the types of airborne diseases currently floating
inside the plane and of course, the nearest proximity of a toddler that was
about to scream.
Upon arriving in Nassau, we were greeted by beaming billboards that proclaimed
The Bahamas of the birthplace of that great tune, "Who Let The Dogs Out?" Upon
finally comprehending this fact, a drunk American tourist, in his excitement
fell on the baggage carrousel and was carried back to the plane.
Our taxi took us to our peaceful and secluded motel on the western end of New
Providence Island. The experience of driving on the left while watching the
driver steering on the right was confusing enough to cause Mary to hysterically
hang her head out the car window, drool profusely and babble the lyrics to the
wonderful tune, "Who Let The Dogs Out?"
After exploring the exquisite grounds of the Orange Hill Beach Inn (I highly
recommend this place to anyone... it was awesome), we walked to a local restaurant
for supper. Conch (pronounced Conk) burgers were the specialty. If you are
unfamiliar with a conch, picture escargot on steroids... lots of steroids. We
happily ate conch a number of times until Mary saw a live one at an aquatic
petting zoo five days later.
Since Bahamians have not invented sidewalks, we were forced to travel on the
road in the dark to reach this restaurant. It did take us quite a bit of time to
figure out what side of the road to travel on to face the traffic. Apparently,
some tourists in the past have given up trying to evaluate this scenario and
have ended up walking in the middle of the road and hope for the best.
The weather of course was nearly 30C every day. But as our taxi driver told us,
Bahamians never follow the weather unless the names Andrew or Ivan are mentioned
in the same sentence.
The Bahamas are a playground for the rich and famous of the U.S.A. They were
also a great vacation destination choice for a travel-addicted pair of music
teachers from Ottawa. Thanks for reading! I'm hoping to have the next report out
on Wednesday.
