Margy’s Trip Report – St. Croix 2009 – April 14-30 - Hubs and I, April 14-23 - Part 1 – Getting There

WARNING: You may want to opt out of this Part 1 thread NOW and avoid my future installments. This is my first attempt at a full-blown, all-inclusive trip report and brevity and good grammar have never been my strong suits. I really appreciate everyone who takes the time and effort to do this for their trips and there's so little around about St. Croix that I thought I would give this trip report thing a try - if only this once.

If you’re still with me, thanks in advance for your time and attention - and, here we go…

This was our third trip to St. Croix in three years. We finally got there in ’07 after traveling to the VI since the mid-80’s and we discovered on the first trip that we absolutely love St. Croix! This was to be a two part trip. First, Hubs and I planned to spend 9 days at Island Time, a cozy two-bedroom villa on St. Croix’s east end in Teague Bay, just east of the St. Croix Yacht Club. Hubs would then return home and three girlfriends would arrive to spend a week with me at Villa D’Estasi, a gorgeous four bedroom beachfront villa in Solitude Bay. What a great plan – and margyz gets to spend two weeks plus on beautiful STX – I think I planned that pretty well, if I do say so myself.

It’s the going, not the getting there, that’s good (Harry Chapin)

Hubs and I caught a late season flu before we left. His flu went into bronchitis and mine turned into a sinus infection first and then into viral pneumonia. As I have respiratory problems anyway, the doc wanted me to delay our trip for a few days so he could continue to keep an eye on me and the pneu. Was he kidding?? No way that was going to make me feel any better – stressing over rescheduling flights and a villa sitting empty without us enjoying it was absolutely not the key to improved health for me. Hubs said he felt well enough to fly and I was right there with him on that. I figured that the best medicine for us both was some warm sun, tropical breezes and copious amounts of rum – all we had to do was GET THERE. Here in Chicago it was 40 degrees and rainy. On STX it was 80 and sunny. Seemed like a no-brainer to me – just load us up with the meds, Doc, and let us be on our way to the sun. Next, to up the pre-trip fun ante just a little bit more, I managed to crack a previously veneered front tooth during a bout of hard coughing so I spent 3 hours in the dentist’s chair a couple of days before we left. I had to have a root canal and be put back together so my smile wouldn’t scare little children and small animals. This root canal was so much fun with the pneumonia, lying there with all of this dental paraphernalia in my mouth, trying not to cough or to let my drippy nose run all over everything. All the while I just kept the image of sand and sun in my mind and some island tunes playing on my iPod. Having the whole job done at one time was pretty gruesome and I was so glad when it was over.

Packing was a confusing task – our brains were just way too fuzzy to work things out – even with my lists. We finally got things semi-organized, checked each other’s stuff and our two coolers of fresh and frozen items to make sure we had at least what we needed, weighed our checked luggage with our new handy luggage scale, jettisoned some unnecessary stuff, and were ready to GO at 3:45 AM when our cab arrived to take us to O’Hare. Nice 303 Taxi driver; great curbside check-in service from the always friendly ORD AA Skycaps. TSA was already open and running when we got there so no standing around and waiting for that. Breezed through TSA – everyone was in a good mood and commiserating with me about feeling and looking so bad (I had at least 8 cold sores raging and looked like a complete Herp. I’m sure they were all happy to be wearing latex gloves.) The food court was semi-open so we grabbed a table, got some coffee, and jumped into our packed breakfast of goodies. No Mickey D’s greasy eggs and hash browns for us this time – we came prepared with some nutritional donuts and powdered sugar thingies. Sufficiently amped by sugar and caffeine, we headed to the gate.

BTW, a big thanks to Mayor Daley for those squeaky clean ORD restrooms and those great automatic toilet seat covers. I always appreciate the efforts of the O’Hare maintenance staff even more when I get to Miami, where finding restroom cleanliness is always a crapshoot – pardon the pun.

Our flight to Miami was packed. We were glad we had two aisle seats. Hubs had two waif-y model types sitting next to him in his row and I, of course, was seated next to the couple who appeared to have eaten the entire H concourse; he, in the window seat, with the 4 course Micky D’s breakfast greasing up his tray table and she with the 3 inch painted and blinged out fingernails in the middle seat and half of my aisle seat. Squeezing into what was left of my seat, I was almost at once treated to unsolicited advice about my own fingernails which are really short right now since I took off my acrylics – happy to share her recipe: she advised me to grind up garlic and put it into clear nail polish and, after about a week of marinating the garlic in the nail polish, to paint that concoction on my nails once a day and then they will grow. Ok, thanks – garlic nail polish! I must have looked more pitiful than even I realized. It’s amazing what strangers will say to you - you just can’t make this stuff up. Hubs, meanwhile, was doing his usual jumping up and helping all of the ladies who were struggling to get their heavy roll-a-boards into the overheads while the guys coming down the aisle behind them just stood and stared. Why don’t more guys help? I know, we women want to be equal so let us deal with their own bags – but how about just thinking of it less as a gender thing and more as moving the boarding process along faster and just lending a hand? As boarding finished up, Hubs points to the row ahead of him where there was an open middle and aisle seat – possible nirvana on this crowded 757! We both cross our fingers that no one will claim them and I can slide away from my row mates and into the aisle seat right after they close the doors on the plane. No one does, and I did, and I was much more comfortable although concerned that I was foregoing the benefit of further cosmetics advice. We departed on time and got into Miami a bit early although the landing was a bit rocky.

Bienvenidos a’Miami – can you all feel that?…(Will Smith)

We prefer to connect through Miami rather than San Juan. We prefer Miami because we usually have checked bags and want to have the best chance of them getting there along with us. San Juan has kind of been the Land of Lost Luggage for us. Beyond that small perk, the Miami airport absolutely sucks – apologies to anyone from Miami, but you Floridians most likely know that it’s true. They have been working on the construction there for what seems like the past 20 years and it seems like it will go on for another 20. Every trip there is a new surprise. I have it on good authority from really frequent MIA business travelers that routings gate to gate in that airport can even change from day to day. It’s a mess. This time, we came in at E and had to hike ourselves over to D – about the equivalent of walking to Atlanta. Hubs suggested we get a cart for the carry-ons as we were both feeling so lousy and that did make the overland trek a bit easier. We had a couple of hours before our connection this time and we wanted to try lunch at the Islander Bar & Grill which is located around Gate D-40-something. It’s a here’s an actual menu, sit-down have a drink, and we bring you your lunch kind of place so rare at MIA and that sounded really good to us right about then. We’ve tried to get into the Islander in the past but we have had tight connections and there has always been a line so we generally have to settle for what I call the $8 hot dog or scrummy salad. We get to the D concourse and there is NO LINE at the Islander and there are open tables. Wonderful! We wait a bit and no one comes to seat us. OK, we park our cart well out of the way but where we can still see it and begin to sit down at one of the open tables – it happens to be a table for 4 – all of the open tables are tables for 4. I just get my heinie eased into a very welcome chair and the hostess swoops down upon us. We can’t sit there – we must wait for a table for 2, these tables are for 4 – and, btw, we have too much carry-on luggage (which is parked well out of the way of everyone, I might add). She is not in any mood to be reasoned with – she started off mad before she got to us and she is getting redder in the face by the minute as we try to point out to her that we are here, we are ready to eat and there is no one behind us waiting for a table for 4, or for ANY table, for that matter. Logic would not sway her – she is in full-on hostess mad-mode, wagging her finger at us in an “oh, no you di’nt” kind of way, we are not welcome at a table for 4. (I think the cold sores scared her – lol). Hubs is keeping it under under control but I can tell he is po’d and steaming and will not be made to wait for a table for 2 to open up in a restaurant with 4 open tables and no one but us seeking a table. I can’t blame him - this is ridiculous. Bidding her a much better rest of her day, we depart. So, once again, we do not get to eat at The Islander. I’m thinking it’s not such a great loss but the girlfriends ate there on their way through Miami later in the week and they liked it – no hostess when they tried it but rather a host who seated the two of them right away – AT A TABLE FOR 4. I just KNOW it was the cold sores…

We move on to La Carreta where we get a comfy booth and they do not throw us out for having a cart and one of us looking ugly and even though Hubs has to go through the line to order and pick up our food, it’s not all that bad on the whole and we can finally relax. Even though the tamales Hubs gets prove to be pretty awful (what was he thinking?), the grilled chicken sandwich is pretty decent.

We get to our gate, the plane was already there and waiting (a very good sign for Caribbean connections – those awaiting their flight at the gate next to us were not so lucky), and we board and get out on time. Once again, it’s a full flight but this time there are no open seats to claim. One of my row mates was a very charming woman from North Carolina who was traveling with about 25 of her fellow church members for a mission they undertake every spring to help care for the elderly on St. Croix. Very nice people – I hope their mission was very successful and that they had a great time on St. Croix. We chatted a lot about the island and the flight went by very quickly. I am so buzzed from taking bronchial dilators, using inhalers and drinking 3 diet cokes that my foot probably won’t stop twitching for a week and I am happy to have the conversation as I can’t concentrate on my book. Hubs slept the entire way, the lucky duck.

Every little T’ing gonna be alright…(Bob Marley & The Wailers)

We land very gently and walk off the plane into the gorgeous St. Croix sunshine and just breathe in that tropical air – we have indeed made the right decision for sure to just get here! And, what’s this? There are ground personnel coming up and down the steps to help all of us deplane with our rolling carry-ons – very nice touch, Rohlsen International!

We make our way across the tarmac slowly to baggage claim and are disappointed to see that the USVI welcome kiosk is not open – no 8 to 1s today. (An 8 to 1 is 8 parts Cruzan Rum Cream and 1 part Cruzan Vanilla Rum, chilled – very yummy). Oh, well. Now, to wait for the bags and for our Centerline car rental rep. The Centerline girls arrive with a van just as we are getting the second bag off the belt and we are ready to go pick up our Ford Focus.

The Centerline van thing is new to us - now you can wait for all of your luggage and then they can take multiple parties to where the cars are located off-property - before they did things individually. There were two other parties with us - an eastern European couple visiting STX for the first time who didn't speak too much English and were all stressed out about a couple of minor scuffs on a piece of their luggage. We all had to wait while he went to complain and report it. The other two were a head-office exec type with his razor thin wife (they had VERY good luggage, nary a scuff - lol). They spoke entirely too much English, were dressed all in black and toting multiple high-end tennis racquets (first visit to STX and staying at the Buccaneer). The wife was freaking out at having to ride in the perfectly nice clean van and was very nasty and vocal about it - she expected curb service with their car – something that Centerline does not do, (they are located off-airport, thus saving us all the airport tax). When we pulled into the gas station off the airport road that is Centerline’s satellite office I thought she was going to get the vapors when she saw where we were - seeing as how she probably hadn't eaten yet this month I was truly worried about her (meow). Their whole demeanor was kind of embarrassing – I mean, here were the two very nice Centerline girls in the front of the van hearing all of this insulting stuff and the woman going on and on about her pain at being treated in this awful way and how first impressions are everything and she was NOT IMPRESSED. She wanted to get OUT and have her hubs call the Buc and have them send someone to pick them up right then and there and just have the car delivered to the Buc later by SOMEONE. Unh, OK. Hubs leaned over and whispered “UA” to me (our code for Ugly Americans) and he and I started joking with the Centerline girls and kidding around and the girls took care of us friendly folks FIRST and we had a few more laughs with them as we inspected our car and then we were on our way quickly east on 66 (Melvin H. Evans Highway) towards Sunny Isle to shop on the way to the villa. Thanks, girls, we appreciate your getting us out of there quickly with our car – sorry about your having to deal with the others! Hope that lady finally found something to eat at the Buc and lively’d up herself.

Things were slow getting around Sunny Isle and there was lots of traffic heading into Christiansted at that time but we shopped quickly at K-mart for liquor, beer, sodas and then at Plaza Extra for eggs, milk, and TING (LOVE that Ting, mixed with Cruzan Citrus, it is fantastic). Judging from the traffic we decided to bag going straight through Christiansted and opted to take 62 (Southside Road) to avoid C'Sted. We hadn’t arranged for a villa greeter from Vacation St. Croix as we knew exactly where Island Time was located. Inderia from VSTX had thoughtfully left us a voice mail with the updated gate code for Island Time and a few after business hours to call if we had any difficulties. Based on our flight times and thinking that we would probably stop for groceries on the way, VSTX estimated that we would arrive at the villa around 5 so they were sending someone over to unlock it and leave the keys for us right around that time.

We headed east on 62, having the road almost to ourselves. The island was so very brown it was obvious that there had not been too much rain lately. As we passed the pink pillars marking the entry road to Ha’Penny Beach we wondered if there had been any fires like the ones that happened in this area last year when the island was also so dry. We caught our first glimpse of the reef and the beautiful turquoise sea. We’re getting there – 62 takes a hard turn to the north and we head up to find 624 near Sally’s Fancy to cross east and meet up with 60 (Great Pond Road) heading north again. 60 meets up with 82 (East End Road) and we are heading east again: past Green Cay, Coakley Bay, Cotton Valley, past the Reef Club at Meggie Hill, past the Yacht Club, right to Island Time’s gate:

Thanks, Paula from Trip Advisor, for that photo that she took right after Omar - we had no trouble finding the entrance to Island Time! Love the lilac/blue! The gate code worked just fine, we headed up the gently sloping driveway to the door, entered the villa, and saw our view from the deck as the sun headed west towards Teague Point:

We tear ourselves away from the deck. unpack the food and a bit of our luggage, make a Dark and Diet for Hubs and a Ting and Citrus for me, sit in the rockers on the deck and and watch the sun work its way down. AHHHHHHHHHHHH:

After a quick dip in the pool we decide to head on over west to Coakley Bay to the Cultured Pelican for a late dinner. I ordered the small individual sausage pizza and a spinach salad with hot bacon dressing (yeah, yeah, a bit self-indulgent, but, heck, I'm sick - lol). Hubs asked for angel hair pasta with aglio e olio. No fresh sausage for the pizza, ok; no angel hair pasta left, ok, the chef doesn’t know how to make the hot bacon dressing - - huh? It’s on the menu! Cultured Pelican was a big disaster for us this first evening – this is very surprising because we have always had delicious meals there. When we got back to the villa and opened our take away box with my leftover pizza we find we have been given the pizza belonging to the next table, including the half eaten pieces with bite marks. Yuck! This is upsetting – one of our favorite places seems to have slipped badly, but Dennis, the owner, had not been there so maybe it had just been a really off night. We are not yet ready to give up on the Pelican so we talk ourselves into giving it another chance later in our trip.

Another quick dip in the pool and we are done in for the night. The next morning, we awake still feeling pretty lousy but we are probably feeling less lousy HERE, as oppposed to more lousy THERE. It's a beautiful day and we have a gorgeous view. So, we start checking out the villa more closely – and we discover the location of the villa’s armaments so we will be ready to defend Island Time against any invaders:

Time to fire up the laptop and Google how to load a cannon...

Next, Part 2: Island Time Villa Review