Nassau. Round two. If you happened to read about last time we were in Nassau, you will remember we were not too thrilled about the experience. This time, we quadruple checked the weather, making sure a rain storm was not in our future so we wouldn’t get stuck like last time. It was an awfully long day crossing over from the Exumas. Hot. Lordy it was hot. Patrick, our Simrad auto-pilot hooked up. Dodging coral heads across the shallow bank. Easily readable while the sun was high in the sky. I spent hours on the bow, scraping old caulk off the deck that should have been done a year ago, attempting to catch the slightest breeze. Unsuccessful. Exumas far behind us, and the city of Nassau on our horizon.
While pulling up to the docks, we discovered the Texaco station, next door to Nassau Harbor Club (where we stayed last time) was under half the price. At 20 dollars a night, including water, versus 56 dollars a night. Score. Across the street, Starbucks and Fresh Market. In America, I avoid Starbucks. in the Bahamas, I sprint there. Starbucks meant air conditioning, bathroom with flushing toilet, iced coffee, outlets, good enough internet to call my family, and lets not forget about the pastries. I was inches from figuring out a way to shower in their bathroom sink.
Going to Atlantis for the first time in our lives, after being out of civilization for a while was…eye opening. One of the more bizarre afternoons I have ever spent. I felt like cattle being herded with the crowds. Like I was being manufactured while going up the water escalator in a plastic tube. Trying not to focus on the fact that my skin was contacting the rubber like glue, squeaking in the same place as everyone else’s ass who sat on it before me. In the center of thousands of people being directed and circulated without even being aware. I felt native, next to all the fair skinned foreigners who had burnt themselves silly. Broke, next to the Ladies with Burberry bikinis and apple martinis. Rich, next to the youth who knew nothing about this country outside Paradise Island. Happy, that our experience in the Bahamas had absolutely nothing to do with your typical family vacation. Time to go. And thank you to dear friends of Nick and Hilary, who provided us with their access pass so we could lose our minds. It was great. I wish I had photos of this. But I don’t.
Oh, I forgot to mention we were stuffed in the back of a cop car one night while walking home from Paradise Island. Us chicks figured that Nick, being the man of the crew, would scare off any kind of criminal, being 6 foot something and Michelangelo like. Apparently the Nassau sheriff thought differently. He kindly offered us a ride home, as he politely commented that walking home in the dark was not the greatest plan of action. Which we knew. But vodka oj’s make you fearless when you have a knife and mace in your purse. And a Michelangelo sidekick. Nassau round two. Success.