Laziness As An Art Form

It's been a week since we got back from Grand Bahama Island. Since then I've survived a week back in the pressure cooker and the mother of all colds. Now, as my "tan" begins to peel, I've got a little time to put down some of my thoughts about the trip. I thought about doing it chronologically, but each day pretty much ran into another, so I'll just give some observations about different aspects of the trip.

First off, the weather the first half of the week was stormy, so that pretty much cancelled any outdoor pursuits until Thursday. Unless you wanted to gamble in the casino, there is nothing else to do on that island. Across from our hotel, The Westin at Our Lucaya, was the Port Lucaya Marketplace, a collection of tourist trap shops selling straw goods that were probably made in Korea. Local culture here is none existent, unless you count the ritual that having a personal conversation at work takes precedence over customer service. Just try to get anybody's attention in a restaurant. If you do, you get treated to another Bahamian custom of sighing and eye rolling.

A case in point, before the trip I had looked forward to dining in a local restaurant called The Fatman's Nephew. According to my Rough Guide, it served local Bahamian cuisine at reasonable prices. By the way, if you go to this island, forget the concept of reasonable prices. Anyway, we went upstairs and into the restaurant and were promptly greeted by being ignored. I never knew that refusing to make eye contact could be raised to such an art form. When we finally got seated, it took forever for a waitress to come and get our drink order. Nothing special, just two cans of Kalik, the local beer. 15 minutes later the waitress finally returned with the beers. I practically had to tackle her to keep her from leaving without taking our order. Then we get to the local cuisine. There is none. Unless you count conch fritters with no conch or cracked conch that seemed more like Howard Johnson's fried clams. A vegetarian meal there is considered cheese fries. Anyway, we put in our order and our waitress disappeared. For an hour. Yup, gone, vanished, kaput. About 40 minutes into our wait a busboy unceremoniously plopped a basket of rolls (the kind you get at KFC) in front of us. 20 minutes later, with no sign of anybody around, I dropped 10 bucks on the table to pay for the drinks and we left. I wonder if they've noticed yet.

That's Bahamian waitressing. They don't like to take your order, they don't like to serve your food, and don't ask them to do anything tat requires them to go back to the kitchen again. And for all that they automatically put a 15% tip on the bill and give you dirty looks if you don't leave something besides that!

The rest of the week was sunny, but very very windy. It was very unpleasant sitting out at the pool. Bahamian music? All that came blasting out of the pool bar all day long was the same rap song, over and over and over. One day, out of boredom, we visited the International Bazaar in Freeport. They should call it bizarre. There's nothing but kitschy junk crap. As far as Freeport goes, there's no there there.

I went diving one day with UNEXSO which seemed to be run as a very lax outfit. From everything I had heard about it, I was quite surprised. The reefs were very disappointing and there were few fish. I didn't go another day. The diving was the main reason I booked this trip. Instead, I figured I spend the money I "saved" on a so-so meal in one of the hotel's outrageously overpriced restaurants.

I'd been to the Bahamas before, Nassau and Paradise Island, about 20 years ago and it was nothing like this. We didn't want to go there again because I didn't want to go to a place that built up. Mistake! I've been all around the Caribbean and to 3 different islands in Hawaii over the years. I'd visit any of those places in a New York minute. But don't waste your time with Grand Bahama. My advice: just like Old Chef said in Apocalypse Now, "don't get off the boat." I actually felt good getting on that Beechcraft 1900 for the flight back to Miami.

I don't want to leave the impression that I didn't enjoy the time off. I was nice to get out of the cold dreary northeast for a week. I got to smoke a few Cubans with my rum and my wife got some sexy cornrows in her hair (Bo Derek eat your heart out) There were some interesting performances in Count Basie Square every night that were free. I also found a drink, Pusser's Painkiller, that will knock you on your ass. But for the amount of money I shelled out, I could've done alot better at many other places.

File under Travel.

3:21:45 PM    Go ahead, make my day  []  trackback []