CARISSA MARSH
Washington, D.C. Columnist
While the weather in D.C. has been unseasonably warm, my fellow interns and I savor each day of sunny skies, the likes of which bring back memories of shorts, tanks and Malibu. Confined to our black wool coats for these past few months, we eagerly awaited our upcoming escape from D.C. That’s why in the days leading up to Spring Break I made many last-minute mall trips – after all, we were going to the Caribbean and I had nothing to wear.
Yes, a Caribbean cruise: A well-deserved break from the stress of 30-hour a week internships and night classes. We spent eight days island hopping, seeing the sights, soaking up the sun and seeking sand and surf. In our anticipation, many of us donned flip flops to Dulles International Airport even though it was 3 a.m. and just 40 degrees.
Our journey began in San Juan, Puerto Rico, both our starting and ending port. Our first stop on the Golden Princess was St. Thomas, part of the U.S. Virgin Islands. Downtown St. Thomas was a tourist haven filled with shops, tented vendors and people on every corner asking if you need a taxi. But, as in D.C., walking was the preferred transportation of choice during our trip.
The next port was St. Kitts and Nevis, a humble island that made up in friendliness what it lacked in development. Strolling through the town, we came upon a street band playing an island tune for tourists. On the corner of an open square, natives sold coconuts for $2. After drinking the white juice through a straw, they used a machete to crack open the shell, revealing the fleshy fruit inside. As I stood watching the men, a woman pressed my arm – I turned to see that all she wanted to offer me was a smile.
Our journey then took us to the picturesque island of Grenada, an island overflowing with life and energy. We toured the island by way of van, following the winding road with sharp needlepoint turns and catching a glimpse of island life. Being a country that relies on tourism, cliff divers entertained crowds by scaling rock ledges to jump into a waterfall’s pool while women sold spice necklaces featuring Grenada’s infamous nutmeg. From forested hillsides to black sand beaches, nestled communities to traditional rum houses, exotic plants to indigenous spice farms, Grenada showed us a place much different from the hustle and bustle of life in D.C. or Los Angeles. I left the island with an ethereal feeling – and a jar of cinnamon to boot.
It was in Isla Margarita, Venezuela, that the boat finally docked on a beach. The crystal-clear sun-warmed water reminded me of Hawaii, but the Spanish accent of native beach-goers told me something different. Aruba was our last port before heading back to San Juan, Puerto Rico, for a tour of the rainforest: El Yunque. Walking on a trail through the foliage and seeing a peaceful waterfall was only made more perfect when it actually began to rain.
Besides experiencing the beauty and cultural spirit of the islands, the trip offered us a nice respite from the demands of internships, homework and poorly stocked refrigerators. With nightly four-course meals and a 24-hour buffet, it’s a miracle that she-who-shall-not-be-named didn’t gain more than two pounds.
In the end, none of us wanted to leave our vacation in the sun. All we could say for days following our arrival back in D.C. was “let’s go back on the boat” or “see you on the Lido deck.” I was even swaying the first day back as I regained my land legs. And though I am back to work, busy with interviews, articles, and not-so-island-friendly publicists, I am still able to bring back that lazy, Caribbean feeling: I just sprinkle the memories of Grenada over my oatmeal every morning.
03-30-2006
