Thursday, 8 December 2005 01:22 pm
Family Trip to St. John
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deckardcanineBelated as usual -- the bug bites and sunburns have finally gone away. In spite of both those factors and the familial impatience from being out of practice at long family vacations, I'm glad I went. I had gotten worried on the second day, as the prime activities were swimming, snorkeling, hiking, visiting ruins (who knew the Danes settled anywhere but Greenland?), and window shopping. How was I to avoid boredom over the following week? Well, I managed, with a little help from a crossword collection, GAMES Magazine, Nabokov's Lolita (too bad we had no dictionary), and a set of videos at the house where we stayed.
I considered taking a Kinky Turtle approach to this entry by drawing an extended cartoon, with fewer event details than he includes. But as you can guess, I'm not very industrious about these things. Besides, I wasn't sure how/whether to anthropomorphize my family, and my sister is "camera shy."
Travel. The U.S. Virgin Islands are unusual in that you can stand in the U.S. and look out at the U.K. Perhaps not coincidentally, you're supposed to drive on the left, despite cars having the steering wheel on the left. Actually, due to the narrow roads -- exacerbated by construction as thoroughly present as DC's -- drivers were permitted (or so I gathered from a guidebook) to drive down the center, provided that they pull to the left upon seeing a car come the other way.
The island is very mountainous, so you have little choice but to get a car with four-wheel drive. Fortunately, on a nine-by-five-mile island, you can find a fair amount in walking distance. Besides, mountains have their advantages: in contrast with nearby St. Thomas, St. John is exceedingly noncommercial. You can't find a single megacorporation unit, not even Starbucks or McDonald's.
Wildlife. On an island where much of the land is preserved rainforest, you can expect to meet animals that are hard to find near continental cities. Lizards abound. Wild donkeys, descended from workers turned loose a while back, pose a slight threat to tourists. Colorful chickens roam near urban restaurants. Our house had a peacock nearby. We had to time our beach visits to end before the sand flies, a.k.a. no-see-ums, awoke; the rest of my family had met them in Belize, but I was more afraid. We never met the goofy guidebook's "teenage mutant ninja crabs." Neither did we meet any frogs, which my sister loves, but I made a large stuffed poison dart frog hug her from behind at a store.
On one drive, we had to brake for several minutes while an unattended herd of goats crossed the road. It was annoying to have to wait until we were sure no more were coming (and we guessed a little off), but against our better judgment, they were kind of cute, as when they rubbed their sides against a wall. All the bleating came from a single kid, who led my sister to croon, "I want a pet goat."
Snorkeling, as I've done before, was pretty good. We had a little card to help identify fish, but we tended not to recognize more than the barracuda, the blue needlefish, and the fairy hamlet. One bay offered several turtles and nonchalant stingrays. The Mangrove Fringe Forest, a little-known shallow region, presented major starfish and a colorful variety of fish guarding a sunken boat; I especially liked a red-pink one with large black spots around the eyes.
Even knowing that St. John was nowhere near Hawaii, I correctly guessed at something the two islands had in common: bats were the only native non-aquatic animals. I may have heard their songs thru the screen window next to my bed. Another commonality with Hawaii: In order to counter the rats, the government imported mongooses, only to find that they were diurnal and rats nocturnal. Only a bureaucracy fails its homework this badly! I didn't see mongooses up close until one of our last days in St. John, when they were somewhat crowded near a mill ruin.
Shopping. I'm not much of a shopper, but I did appreciate some of the available groceries, like a ginseng/ginger/green tea soda. Plainly we weren't going to do any holiday shopping on St. John. Instead, we checked out some fragrant spice stores, which had broad shelves of hot sauce brands with comically badass images. On the last evening, I decided to buy a souvenir. My choice: a cobalt-painted ceramic turtle. A frog with red-fox-like markings came a close second, but I already have a frog from my trip to the Bahamas 11 months ago.
Caribbean culture. One early sign that we were in the Caribbean was an auto rental serviceman with an acute case of impacted dreadlocks. Imagine Princess Leia's hairdresser getting tipsy. But the most frequent reminder to me was the music. Ever hear a steel drum version of "Sleigh Ride"? (My folks in Belize had heard "White Christmas" changed to "Bright Christmas," despite that leading to a self-rhyme of "bright.") While steel drums appeal to me some, I didn't buy any of the CDs. However, one case listed "The Iron Man." An Ozzy Osbourne cover? I'd expect it to get panned. [grabs head and crouches]
Our house. As the man who owned it gave us a brief tour, we found it quite pretty. Most of the interior was polished but unpainted wood, with one wall comprised of stones and seashells. A spiral staircase led to the beds of me and my sister; that has more visual than practical value. Lots of fans and lights. There was a covered jacuzzi, but we never used it because it was exceptionally hot, we were told not to mess with the dysfunctional heat control, and we had trouble getting the jets to work.
On one side of the house was a shared pool, which I enjoyed a couple times. On another side was a veranda. The door had wind chimes which, presumably by coincidence, could match the wind control song in The Legend of Zelda: The Wind Waker.
Superstition. To me, the first interesting part of the trip happened before we left Dulles. I bought a candy bar with a $10 bill. I wasn't surprised the clerk asked for a lesser denomination, but there may have been more to his reluctance than the loss of small bills. For one thing, the change was exactly $9.11. For another, he included a $2 bill. I had seen only one in my life, and not in my possession. This one is in the 2003 series. I had no idea they were still in print, when they were deemed bad luck more than half a century ago.
On the boat ride back to St. Thomas, my sister saw someone reading "Sudoku for Dummies" and called it sad. I understood: I had found the modern craze easy to the point of blandness. But lately, I've messed up on sudoku twice. Maybe that's what I get for my attitude.
My mom sat two seats away from me on the plane from Dulles, the middle seat being unoccupied. It was early morning, and she accidentally smacked her orange juice aside, splashing me from the neck to the back pocket. It probably would have been worse if I were right next to her. She then had coffee to avoid further mishaps. I told her that if she spilled that on me as well, I would break her. There was no need, but on the plane ride the other way, a stranger accidentally colored my mom's socks with Hawaiian punch. "What goes around comes around," my mom said with a laugh.
Weather. Yes, it was quite warm in St. John, with highs in the upper 80s. Most days were very sunny, yet with the rainforest, it makes sense that we got several scattered rains. Rarely was I cold. For the most part, I was glad not to worry so much about our primary water source running dry. That is a pretty major drawback to living in St. John: the tap is barely drinkable, you're expected to ration, and you can forget a warm shower.
Much as I like the climate, I would never move to an island like St. John. It feels claustrophobic to me, even if my mom says a small continental town feels more so. But a short visit is nice.
I considered taking a Kinky Turtle approach to this entry by drawing an extended cartoon, with fewer event details than he includes. But as you can guess, I'm not very industrious about these things. Besides, I wasn't sure how/whether to anthropomorphize my family, and my sister is "camera shy."
Travel. The U.S. Virgin Islands are unusual in that you can stand in the U.S. and look out at the U.K. Perhaps not coincidentally, you're supposed to drive on the left, despite cars having the steering wheel on the left. Actually, due to the narrow roads -- exacerbated by construction as thoroughly present as DC's -- drivers were permitted (or so I gathered from a guidebook) to drive down the center, provided that they pull to the left upon seeing a car come the other way.
The island is very mountainous, so you have little choice but to get a car with four-wheel drive. Fortunately, on a nine-by-five-mile island, you can find a fair amount in walking distance. Besides, mountains have their advantages: in contrast with nearby St. Thomas, St. John is exceedingly noncommercial. You can't find a single megacorporation unit, not even Starbucks or McDonald's.
Wildlife. On an island where much of the land is preserved rainforest, you can expect to meet animals that are hard to find near continental cities. Lizards abound. Wild donkeys, descended from workers turned loose a while back, pose a slight threat to tourists. Colorful chickens roam near urban restaurants. Our house had a peacock nearby. We had to time our beach visits to end before the sand flies, a.k.a. no-see-ums, awoke; the rest of my family had met them in Belize, but I was more afraid. We never met the goofy guidebook's "teenage mutant ninja crabs." Neither did we meet any frogs, which my sister loves, but I made a large stuffed poison dart frog hug her from behind at a store.
On one drive, we had to brake for several minutes while an unattended herd of goats crossed the road. It was annoying to have to wait until we were sure no more were coming (and we guessed a little off), but against our better judgment, they were kind of cute, as when they rubbed their sides against a wall. All the bleating came from a single kid, who led my sister to croon, "I want a pet goat."
Snorkeling, as I've done before, was pretty good. We had a little card to help identify fish, but we tended not to recognize more than the barracuda, the blue needlefish, and the fairy hamlet. One bay offered several turtles and nonchalant stingrays. The Mangrove Fringe Forest, a little-known shallow region, presented major starfish and a colorful variety of fish guarding a sunken boat; I especially liked a red-pink one with large black spots around the eyes.
Even knowing that St. John was nowhere near Hawaii, I correctly guessed at something the two islands had in common: bats were the only native non-aquatic animals. I may have heard their songs thru the screen window next to my bed. Another commonality with Hawaii: In order to counter the rats, the government imported mongooses, only to find that they were diurnal and rats nocturnal. Only a bureaucracy fails its homework this badly! I didn't see mongooses up close until one of our last days in St. John, when they were somewhat crowded near a mill ruin.
Shopping. I'm not much of a shopper, but I did appreciate some of the available groceries, like a ginseng/ginger/green tea soda. Plainly we weren't going to do any holiday shopping on St. John. Instead, we checked out some fragrant spice stores, which had broad shelves of hot sauce brands with comically badass images. On the last evening, I decided to buy a souvenir. My choice: a cobalt-painted ceramic turtle. A frog with red-fox-like markings came a close second, but I already have a frog from my trip to the Bahamas 11 months ago.
Caribbean culture. One early sign that we were in the Caribbean was an auto rental serviceman with an acute case of impacted dreadlocks. Imagine Princess Leia's hairdresser getting tipsy. But the most frequent reminder to me was the music. Ever hear a steel drum version of "Sleigh Ride"? (My folks in Belize had heard "White Christmas" changed to "Bright Christmas," despite that leading to a self-rhyme of "bright.") While steel drums appeal to me some, I didn't buy any of the CDs. However, one case listed "The Iron Man." An Ozzy Osbourne cover? I'd expect it to get panned. [grabs head and crouches]
Our house. As the man who owned it gave us a brief tour, we found it quite pretty. Most of the interior was polished but unpainted wood, with one wall comprised of stones and seashells. A spiral staircase led to the beds of me and my sister; that has more visual than practical value. Lots of fans and lights. There was a covered jacuzzi, but we never used it because it was exceptionally hot, we were told not to mess with the dysfunctional heat control, and we had trouble getting the jets to work.
On one side of the house was a shared pool, which I enjoyed a couple times. On another side was a veranda. The door had wind chimes which, presumably by coincidence, could match the wind control song in The Legend of Zelda: The Wind Waker.
Superstition. To me, the first interesting part of the trip happened before we left Dulles. I bought a candy bar with a $10 bill. I wasn't surprised the clerk asked for a lesser denomination, but there may have been more to his reluctance than the loss of small bills. For one thing, the change was exactly $9.11. For another, he included a $2 bill. I had seen only one in my life, and not in my possession. This one is in the 2003 series. I had no idea they were still in print, when they were deemed bad luck more than half a century ago.
On the boat ride back to St. Thomas, my sister saw someone reading "Sudoku for Dummies" and called it sad. I understood: I had found the modern craze easy to the point of blandness. But lately, I've messed up on sudoku twice. Maybe that's what I get for my attitude.
My mom sat two seats away from me on the plane from Dulles, the middle seat being unoccupied. It was early morning, and she accidentally smacked her orange juice aside, splashing me from the neck to the back pocket. It probably would have been worse if I were right next to her. She then had coffee to avoid further mishaps. I told her that if she spilled that on me as well, I would break her. There was no need, but on the plane ride the other way, a stranger accidentally colored my mom's socks with Hawaiian punch. "What goes around comes around," my mom said with a laugh.
Weather. Yes, it was quite warm in St. John, with highs in the upper 80s. Most days were very sunny, yet with the rainforest, it makes sense that we got several scattered rains. Rarely was I cold. For the most part, I was glad not to worry so much about our primary water source running dry. That is a pretty major drawback to living in St. John: the tap is barely drinkable, you're expected to ration, and you can forget a warm shower.
Much as I like the climate, I would never move to an island like St. John. It feels claustrophobic to me, even if my mom says a small continental town feels more so. But a short visit is nice.