It’s the second to the last day – sad.
Right from the beginning, Auntie Clarece had been saying that we all have to go over to the baths and the only day the ferry runs is on Thursday so, it was decided ahead of time that Thursday would be the day we would go. This is what we had prepared ahead and brought our passports for. We were ready!
The baths are in Virgin Gorda, BVI (British Virgin Islands), the island on the side of Tortola which is the first of the BVIs. The baths themselves are on the south tip of the island and are these cave formations that the sea flows into and collects in pools or baths within the rocks. I had this grandeur idea of the baths in my mind – it sounded so Englishy – like the place where sick people go to get healed and then take tea at the side of the waters. And, the way Auntie Clarece made it sound, it was this deserted island that this little boat would take us to and then drop us off and we would have to swim for shore, carrying our sack lunches over our heads. Then we would have to scale some magnificent cliff and climb over coral and other dangerous things and then, once we were there, there was absolutely nothing to do but explore the baths. That’s what we had painted in our heads.
So, Wednesday came and we called ahead to make reservations, but mom just wasn’t sure that she would be able to make the trip. She had been a little light headed and was trying to figure out her blood pressure medication, on top of trying to get it refilled on the island. So, she was just not sure if she could make it, and if she did, if it would be safe for her. And then they all peeled off one by one… Aunt June said that if mom wasn’t going then she wouldn’t go and then Auntie Clarece said that she had been there before so she wouldn’t worry about going back again. It was left with me. “Go, Alison. You should go!”
So, go I did.
I left the condo at 7:20 sharp to make sure I got down the road to the ferry and found a place to park and got my ticket – I had a pleasant 45 minute wait down the road – but at least I got all taken care of and was ready to hop on the packed ferry boat once it was ready to leave.
Mind you, the picture I had, I would be on this nice power boat like we used to have when I nannied. Me and several other well tanned people would lay around on the deck of the boat while we screamed along the blue water straight to Virgin Gorda. I hoped that there were enough people that I could blend in but not too many that would crowd me out.
Reality is frequently extremely different. So was my reality. The boat we were led to was a dirty, blackened, old charter boat with outdated vinyl seating below and cracked, white metal benches above. I chose to go above and was followed by a herd of people. I placed my backpack on the seat next to me and figured that would count as my sailing buddy. I had my seat assignment all to myself.
The couple behind me slowly chattered away as they discussed everything from the virtues of the island to the chose of friends of the husband. Their thick New Jersey accent pelted off my ears achingly…. “WH-ear d’ya think th-aye g-awt that frum?” as they rambled on about boats and clothes and food that they saw along the way. On and on…
We had to stop at St John on the way where we picked up more passengers – more treats! This time, a lovey dovey couple from Portland ran up the stairs as soon as we docked and went around to every bench on the upstairs asking people “are you staying up here? Are you staying up here?” and then coming to me and putting the question to me like, since I was alone, I didn’t deserve to be wasting a bench up top. When everyone conceded that they weren’t going anywhere, the couple stood in the middle of the deck looking around in bewilderment while the woman loudly whined “WHERE did ALL these PEOPLE come FROM?!” loudly emphasizing random words. And then continuing “Aren’t ANY of them getting OFF?!” and then they turned around and sluffed their feet down the stairs while Jersey girl behind me twitched her neck and said to her boyfriend “Did she j-est a-sk wh-air these pea-ple cay-m frum?!”
The boat started backing out and I settled back in my little lonesome seat, sighing with contentment that I had won the battle of “single in the seat”. Of course not – Portland boyfriend decided not sacrifice and came back up the stairs by himself. Settling into the seat, he pulled out his 30 sunscreen and started lathering himself up while playing 20 questions with me. “So – are you finding the people here nice?” “Have you ever been here before?” “Where are you staying?” AHHHH.
And it doesn’t end nicely there. Portland girlfriend was not to be left alone, so, she came up to “check” on Portland boyfriend and ended up sitting on his lap. Well, it wasn’t even technically on his lap as it was more between his legs. But it was okay, because as they told me “my girlfriend is like a size 0 so she doesn’t take up much room”. They whole way over, his leg was glued to mine and I was shoved against the railing.
It was about an hour later we finally got off the boat. The view was quite nice on the way over and the breeze kept things from being too hot. Somehow, in my head, I knew I was going to be the last one off the boat and – thanks to Portland boyfriend (which Portland girlfriend had smartly clambered down the steps right when we were pulling up so she was the first one off the boat and in the line for customs) who was kind enough to let everyone go before us, I was indeed the last one off the boat. There P.B. and I stood by ourselves at the back of the line, pleasantly chatting, when all of a sudden P.G. ran back and said “come on – we’re saving a place for you!” and P.B. said “have a nice day” to me and followed P.G. back up to the front. Which – when I watched them – P.G. had a 7 or 8 year old daughter that, I’m presuming, she had left below in the boat when she came up to sit on P.B.’s lap! Unbelievable.
The line for customs was extremely slow and I was indeed the last person (which – note to self – I must get a new passport as they’re on the last pages where the Visas are supposed to go and I’m scared that someone in some country is going to put up a stink about that… I’ve finally run out of room in my good old blue book). There was one of the bus taxis out front waiting for me with the second half of the passengers and as soon as I jumped in, we bumped off down the road to the baths which were about 4 miles away.
It was absolutely gorgeous there and it was quite funny to be on the British side! Whereas the majority of people in St Thomas and St John are American with our good old U.S of A accents, here, the norm was British with their little lits and polite “you first, dear”s. Funny – I looked around and spotted people as British, British, American… and you know how I did it – sure enough – the teeth! Too funny – it was totally, stereotypically funny!
There was a small, very pretty and pristine beach that I hit for a while first. The water was what I remember from the Bahamas – absolutely crystal clear and undisturbed. The shoreline went out for a few feet and then rolled down quickly so that you walked out up to you ankles and all of a sudden you were at your waist. The waves were intense too – they literally sucked you in and pushed you out. Everyone was getting knocked down, but it was “quite lovely” all in all J The beach was pretty sparse in comparison to Magan’s Bay Beach and I just sat there and read for a good hour or so. (I’m working on my third book this trip! I haven’t done that in ages!).
I then hopped over to the beachside bar thing and grabbed a cheeseburger bef
ore I went off to explore the baths. They were absolutlely nothing that I had imagined! There were a couple little pools inside these caves. They had a few steep wooden ladders built up in some areas and you could walk in to them. It was interesting, but it took all of 5 minutes to see everything.
That being done, and with about an hour left, I started back up to the top and decided to get a drink at the “Top of the Baths” restaurant. That was BEAUTIFUL! It had this great pool and these flowers and a terrific view of the water! It looked very Mediterranean rather than Caribbean. All in all, a good end to the day.
The boat ride back, most all of us tucked in and slept. With all the sun and the breeze and all – we were a tired lot.
Would I recommend the baths – definitely yes – get that checked off your list. Its not a huge site but its definitely beautiful and relaxing and you’ll leave having a stamp for the BVI in your passport! Not everyone can say that so – don’t miss the opportunity if it presents itself!
Right from the beginning, Auntie Clarece had been saying that we all have to go over to the baths and the only day the ferry runs is on Thursday so, it was decided ahead of time that Thursday would be the day we would go. This is what we had prepared ahead and brought our passports for. We were ready!
The baths are in Virgin Gorda, BVI (British Virgin Islands), the island on the side of Tortola which is the first of the BVIs. The baths themselves are on the south tip of the island and are these cave formations that the sea flows into and collects in pools or baths within the rocks. I had this grandeur idea of the baths in my mind – it sounded so Englishy – like the place where sick people go to get healed and then take tea at the side of the waters. And, the way Auntie Clarece made it sound, it was this deserted island that this little boat would take us to and then drop us off and we would have to swim for shore, carrying our sack lunches over our heads. Then we would have to scale some magnificent cliff and climb over coral and other dangerous things and then, once we were there, there was absolutely nothing to do but explore the baths. That’s what we had painted in our heads.
So, Wednesday came and we called ahead to make reservations, but mom just wasn’t sure that she would be able to make the trip. She had been a little light headed and was trying to figure out her blood pressure medication, on top of trying to get it refilled on the island. So, she was just not sure if she could make it, and if she did, if it would be safe for her. And then they all peeled off one by one… Aunt June said that if mom wasn’t going then she wouldn’t go and then Auntie Clarece said that she had been there before so she wouldn’t worry about going back again. It was left with me. “Go, Alison. You should go!”
So, go I did.
I left the condo at 7:20 sharp to make sure I got down the road to the ferry and found a place to park and got my ticket – I had a pleasant 45 minute wait down the road – but at least I got all taken care of and was ready to hop on the packed ferry boat once it was ready to leave.
Mind you, the picture I had, I would be on this nice power boat like we used to have when I nannied. Me and several other well tanned people would lay around on the deck of the boat while we screamed along the blue water straight to Virgin Gorda. I hoped that there were enough people that I could blend in but not too many that would crowd me out.
Reality is frequently extremely different. So was my reality. The boat we were led to was a dirty, blackened, old charter boat with outdated vinyl seating below and cracked, white metal benches above. I chose to go above and was followed by a herd of people. I placed my backpack on the seat next to me and figured that would count as my sailing buddy. I had my seat assignment all to myself.
The couple behind me slowly chattered away as they discussed everything from the virtues of the island to the chose of friends of the husband. Their thick New Jersey accent pelted off my ears achingly…. “WH-ear d’ya think th-aye g-awt that frum?” as they rambled on about boats and clothes and food that they saw along the way. On and on…
We had to stop at St John on the way where we picked up more passengers – more treats! This time, a lovey dovey couple from Portland ran up the stairs as soon as we docked and went around to every bench on the upstairs asking people “are you staying up here? Are you staying up here?” and then coming to me and putting the question to me like, since I was alone, I didn’t deserve to be wasting a bench up top. When everyone conceded that they weren’t going anywhere, the couple stood in the middle of the deck looking around in bewilderment while the woman loudly whined “WHERE did ALL these PEOPLE come FROM?!” loudly emphasizing random words. And then continuing “Aren’t ANY of them getting OFF?!” and then they turned around and sluffed their feet down the stairs while Jersey girl behind me twitched her neck and said to her boyfriend “Did she j-est a-sk wh-air these pea-ple cay-m frum?!”
The boat started backing out and I settled back in my little lonesome seat, sighing with contentment that I had won the battle of “single in the seat”. Of course not – Portland boyfriend decided not sacrifice and came back up the stairs by himself. Settling into the seat, he pulled out his 30 sunscreen and started lathering himself up while playing 20 questions with me. “So – are you finding the people here nice?” “Have you ever been here before?” “Where are you staying?” AHHHH.
And it doesn’t end nicely there. Portland girlfriend was not to be left alone, so, she came up to “check” on Portland boyfriend and ended up sitting on his lap. Well, it wasn’t even technically on his lap as it was more between his legs. But it was okay, because as they told me “my girlfriend is like a size 0 so she doesn’t take up much room”. They whole way over, his leg was glued to mine and I was shoved against the railing.
It was about an hour later we finally got off the boat. The view was quite nice on the way over and the breeze kept things from being too hot. Somehow, in my head, I knew I was going to be the last one off the boat and – thanks to Portland boyfriend (which Portland girlfriend had smartly clambered down the steps right when we were pulling up so she was the first one off the boat and in the line for customs) who was kind enough to let everyone go before us, I was indeed the last one off the boat. There P.B. and I stood by ourselves at the back of the line, pleasantly chatting, when all of a sudden P.G. ran back and said “come on – we’re saving a place for you!” and P.B. said “have a nice day” to me and followed P.G. back up to the front. Which – when I watched them – P.G. had a 7 or 8 year old daughter that, I’m presuming, she had left below in the boat when she came up to sit on P.B.’s lap! Unbelievable.
The line for customs was extremely slow and I was indeed the last person (which – note to self – I must get a new passport as they’re on the last pages where the Visas are supposed to go and I’m scared that someone in some country is going to put up a stink about that… I’ve finally run out of room in my good old blue book). There was one of the bus taxis out front waiting for me with the second half of the passengers and as soon as I jumped in, we bumped off down the road to the baths which were about 4 miles away.
It was absolutely gorgeous there and it was quite funny to be on the British side! Whereas the majority of people in St Thomas and St John are American with our good old U.S of A accents, here, the norm was British with their little lits and polite “you first, dear”s. Funny – I looked around and spotted people as British, British, American… and you know how I did it – sure enough – the teeth! Too funny – it was totally, stereotypically funny!
There was a small, very pretty and pristine beach that I hit for a while first. The water was what I remember from the Bahamas – absolutely crystal clear and undisturbed. The shoreline went out for a few feet and then rolled down quickly so that you walked out up to you ankles and all of a sudden you were at your waist. The waves were intense too – they literally sucked you in and pushed you out. Everyone was getting knocked down, but it was “quite lovely” all in all J The beach was pretty sparse in comparison to Magan’s Bay Beach and I just sat there and read for a good hour or so. (I’m working on my third book this trip! I haven’t done that in ages!).
I then hopped over to the beachside bar thing and grabbed a cheeseburger bef
ore I went off to explore the baths. They were absolutlely nothing that I had imagined! There were a couple little pools inside these caves. They had a few steep wooden ladders built up in some areas and you could walk in to them. It was interesting, but it took all of 5 minutes to see everything.That being done, and with about an hour left, I started back up to the top and decided to get a drink at the “Top of the Baths” restaurant. That was BEAUTIFUL! It had this great pool and these flowers and a terrific view of the water! It looked very Mediterranean rather than Caribbean. All in all, a good end to the day.
The boat ride back, most all of us tucked in and slept. With all the sun and the breeze and all – we were a tired lot.
Would I recommend the baths – definitely yes – get that checked off your list. Its not a huge site but its definitely beautiful and relaxing and you’ll leave having a stamp for the BVI in your passport! Not everyone can say that so – don’t miss the opportunity if it presents itself!
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