Trip to Grenada - August 12 & 13, 2008

I really have procrastinated long enough about posting about our Grenadian adventure. Personally, I would like to throw in the towel and not discuss it; however, in retrospect one day months from now, I may appreciate looking back and remembering those finite details that we so easily forget. Besides, the trip is paid for in full, we are healthy and safe and it's ready to try to focus on the positives.






Still being new to the international travel, as of this year, I'm been trying to write a travel journal. I still find this a daunting task as I fall quickly behind and then don't recall specific details I thought may have been important or I don't want to recall them at all. In the case of the Grenada trip, so little seemed to actually happen that I didn't find much worthy of writing. Even with my pictures, I think I have dozens of the same pictures with just different lighting/sun! Again, I still regret not getting another camera where I could zoom out and one that takes great night shots. Although this wasn't as big of an issue as it was in Europe. Although, looking at nighttime pictures from fellow travelers, my camera really didn't do much worse at night or should I say, their's wasn't much better?






Our trip began by heading over to the Detroit area on August 12, 2008 to stay at my mom's. I set the alarm for...two hours later, 2:15a.m., when I laid down for my nap to wake up to head to the airport for our 6:35a.m. flight. Getting through security and customs went without a problem and no one even bothered to question me as a single parent with a young child or request the notarized documentation - coming or going. BUT, I was prepared, with two documents in the event that anyone did ask. One employee asked if he was my son. So it appears that flying with a child is much easier than trying to cross the border in a vehicle (Canada border).









We arrived in Ft. Lauderdale around 9:30a.m. and seeing that our flight to Trinidad wasn't until 8:55p.m. we had the entire day to either sit in the airport or tour Ft. Lauderdale. We opted to rent a car and hit the highway with the sun overhead, a cloudless sky and the air conditioning on high! We grabbed a delicious lunch, did some furniture testing at Rooms-to-go and then headed back to the Atlantic Ocean. (Whether stress, allergic reaction to food/sun, heat allergy or some voodoo doll hex - I had an immediate blister on my lip which appeared while still eating lunch! So the entire trip, I dealt with the blister and rescab - what fun!) The beach was clean and beautiful. The water was clear and beautiful. Despite not wanting to add wet bathing suits to our carry-on luggage, it was so worth it to relax and play in the sand and water. It was like a mini-vacation, despite being a rather quick day before we returned the car and headed back to the airport for our next flight.










Arriving at the Trinidad Aiport at 1:00a.m. is rather uneventful. A KFC was about the only thing still open. I purchased a few bottles of water from an open bar that accepted US money. My mom and son grabbed KFC and we quickly learned the exchange rate from US to Trinis were 6:1! We all snoozed here and there from one seat to another until our flight to Grenada at 6:00a.m. Airport staff was also preparing for the celebration in Trinidad, home of the Steelpan Band by hanging streamers of red, white and black throughout. On our return trip, we watched them take them down!









We arrived in Grenada at about 6:45a.m. As mentioned previously, we were not greeted by Mr. James Post, or anyone from Paradise Bay Resort. There was an ATM, but having cash to exchange, we weren't able to convert any money to use the phone. Security/Information wasn't able to assist us in calling the resort stating they couldn't make calls to cell phones. There the three of us were, exhausted from 30 hours of travel, sitting in a foreign country wondering what to do next. Mom and I ready to strangle each other for not making Mr. Post appear in thin air! Finally, a taxi driver assisted us by making the call and subsequently taking us to the resort. If I wasn't passed out tired and bordering on vomiting from the motion sickness of the drive, I would have attempted to take pictures of the long trek across the island to the resort. Pictures of the homes, the people, the streets, the animals...Grenada.






So as not to be repetitive with prior posts, our welcome was anything but welcoming. 8:00a.m. and the villa wasn't really ready and there wasn't any food worthy of serving. The view however was beautiful. After a dismal breakfast we headed to the villa to take a nice shower and sleep. Unfortunately, sleep would have to wait. Our shower didn't have cool or cold water, so my son found himself in scalding hot water, quickly standing outside of the shower covering his privates naked asking for assistance. Assistance I was unable to give. Maintenance was called and the water was soon fixed to allow us to take showers. To make matters worse, I manage to lock us out of the villa for the first time of the trip. Cristina seemed more than irritated that I asked to get back into the villa.







A quick introduction of the Paradise Bay staff that we met on our trip. Mr. Post, need I say more? Quick summary if this is your first blog read - Norman Bates, dreamer of dreamers, scam/con artist that tries his best despite falling very far from mediocre. Cristina: a beautiful young woman that stays at the resort and appears to be Mr. Post's personal slave - err assistant. She is the cook when Vicky isn't there, although her cooking abilities appear nil as it takes 30 minutes to serve cold, dry toast cut in half. She is also the masseuse. Cristina states she won't eat Mr. Post's cooking, although we are forced to (Hmmm...not a good sign). After confrontation/discussions with Cristina and then Mr. Post about the resort accommodations - Cristina distances herself from us. Brian is the maintenance man. He appears to work part-time and keeps to himself. Vicky is originally from Trinidad and works morning and afternoons for Mr. Post as the cook. She is a wonderfully pleasant woman that is eager to aid travelers in making the best of their stay or to assist with other plans. She has a great disposition. Her boyfriend is Mike, who works has a shop at the market. Vicky's sister, Alana is a taxi driver in Trinidad. Vicky is vocal and candid about Mr. Post, the resort and other "guests" that have come and gone - most often gone prematurely.




At 4:30p.m. we awake from the dead and head to the "restaurant" to learn that we are the only guests in the resort, there are no menus, there are no set meal times, there really are no meals. Despite being asked what we want, it repeatedly boils down to, "What do you have?" Mom has tuna fish on a bun, my son "T" has a bun with a side of peanut butter and packets of jelly since grilled cheese or cheese in general is unavailable. I have a side salad which has cucumbers, tomatoes, green peppers and stuffed green olives with side of oil and vinaigrette. James Post returns from the market with cheese and we have cheese slices and another bun.




During lunch we communicate with Cristina about the "resort", accommodations and expectations. After "lunch" we confront James about the unacceptable resort: no pool, no beach chairs, no fruit, lack of veggies, no menu, timeliness of food, the accommodations, etc. He tells us he just returned from the store and that to give him a chance because of the "Carnival" he didn't have food and was not prepared. Carnival ended two days prior and only lasted two days. And Hurricane Ivan from 2004, still haunts and appears to be an excuse for the remainder of things left half completed or undone.








After lunch we explore the grounds of the resort. The pool is empty. The out-buildings are empty inside. We did find a large crab residing in one room of the building. We learn that it gets dark by 7:00p.m. so our adventures of the resort end quickly as it's now time for dinner. A three hour dinner (Said like Gilligan's Island...A Three Hour Tour - maybe if you just hum it, that will help).

We were informed that dinner would be at 7:30p.m. - this came from our discussion with James about lack of timing and menu. We arrived for dinner at 7:15p.m. to find that nothing was ready for us or prepared - not table settings or food. As Vicky is gone for the night, James is the cook. So much for alleged fine European cuisine or even fine anything! James makes three appetizers - totalling over an hour to bring them out - all of them on burnt 1" toast squares - duck liver (aka fois gois?), tuna fish and Virginia black ham. He also tries to give us stuffed green olives, which we return as none of us will eat them. There is no ambiance, no music, no candles. I try my one and only glass of awful champagne. Next we are served lentil soup, which Vicky made and we all agreed was very welcomed and very good. Then came stuffed baby green peppers - which were also very good. James had given us something to "explore" while we waited between "courses". I knew immediately it was a nutmeg and we entertained ourselves by dissecting the nutmeg - much to James' dismay! We had carefully separated the mace, the shell, the insides! By this time, it's 9:15p.m. and we are all about to pass out on the table, still waiting for the main course. I walk T down to the villa, in the dark along the uneven path and put him to bed. I return to find the dinner still not on the table. The main course was some form of fish (which mom and James both confirmed it was overcooked), bad instant mashed potatoes, cold green beans, and cold pickled eggplant. Dinner finished shortly before 10:00p.m.!







There were two computers, one James and one Cristina's in the area adjacent to the dining room. I wouldn't call it a lobby. There was an old couch and a television screen across from it on a table. There were DVD's next to the screen, but didn't appear to be in English. I was able to use "Cristina's" computer and found myself emailing friends and family throughout our stay - and passing time.







Mom headed to bed after dinner, fearing leaving me alone with James at the computer. James managed to drink the bottle of champagne, but I wasn't afraid of him. As odd as the man was, I didn't ever feel threatened by him. As I finished on the computer, I managed to fumble my way in the dark to the villa to call it a night. Our first night in Grenada.