So…when we woke up, Julia was adamant that she wanted to take me to Hell. I was like…..”huh?” and she explained that it’s this super-touristy attraction on the West of the island, which is “awful” (her words) and tacky-as-fuck (my words) and she hadn’t been brave enough to take any of her visitors there yet. Which I assumed that I meant she knew I’d appreciate a bit of tourist tat.
Well even I wasn’t quite prepared for the randomness of Hell. It’s a shop that’s branded up as ‘Hell’ with weird devil shit everywhere and murals about Jesus and a shitload of t-shirts and shot glasses saying “I’ve been To Hell’…and it just made absolutely no sense.
The owner of the shop was dressed as the devil, complete with pointy beard and creepy chat. “I’d like to smell your hair” was one of the most terrifying moments. ANYWAY, turns out that there’s a patch of black rock outside the shop that this dude saw once and thought, “ooh, that looks like I imagine Hell to look like”…and so he opened a Hell-themed shop. That is literally the reason for this batshit crazy place existing. He corned my aunt for about 20 minutes talk her ear off about weird Hell-themed shit, and I posted my family a postcard that was stamped “from Hell”….OBVS.
Then we went to Tortuga (Tortuga do those amazing rum cakes you find all over the Caribbean) because I knew they sold this special rum liqueur my mum wanted…and THEN we went to Red Sail Sports centre to book my birthday Stingray trip (more on that later). By this point, we’d been up ages, done LOADS and we were starving. But it was only 11am. But we saw no reason why that would stop up going for lunch, so we head to Macabuca. Now, I FOOKING LOVED this place.
It’s a popular dive spot that my aunt and uncle often go to because Nige is a super keeno diver, so we had lunch and a beer and just chilled out. It’s super cool there, all decked out like a tiki bar and at that point I was like…YES, I AM ON HOLIDAY.
Now, the absolute beauty of being on holiday with your family is that you get to have really chilled times, cooking dinner in the condo and swimming in their pool or whatever, rather than HAVING to go out to dinner every night and wang loads of money on booze and stuff. It keeps it really balanced (sidenote: this also meant that by the end of the holiday I had actually LOST weight. Say WHAAAAAT) SO we spent the evening in, and I think we had some delicious tuna steaks and salad that my aunt knocked up. VERY NICE THANKS.
I had decided that I was fairly desperate to go back to Hemingway’s (ya remember, the beach club I went to on my first day?) so my aunt dropped me off as soon as it opened, because I am nothing if not a keeno. She decided to head home and leave me to it, so I spent the day swanning about the place, solo.
It was a total joy. It’s just SO DAMN SWANKY. But, like, not snooty at all. The staff there are amazing and really look after you. I flagged to the beach waiters that I was there alone so that they’d keep an eye on all my shit whenever I went into the sea for a swim or whatever. The first thing I did was IMMEDIATELY order a cocktail, of course, and set up equidistant between the sea, bar and toilets – the three most important things. I read my book, I frolicked in the sea, I had another cocktail…and I made friends with some woman who was working the Disney cruise ship that had docked for the day. About 2pm, I moved over to the pool area and basically glared at all the people hogging the swim-up bar stools until one of them FUCKED OFF and I intercepted right away. I got another cocktail and just sat there thinking….this is so SO surreal, sat here, at a FRICKING swim-up bar, I mean….WTF.
I made friends with a family from Florida who were obsessed with my accent (standard) and I asked the husband to take a photo of me on my bar stool. The evidence of which is below. I’m not looking my best here to be fair but this is after 6 hours of being covered in sand and being sea-swept mate, so whatever because I WAS HAVING TOO MUCH FUN TO CARE ABOUT MY FACE.
Julia came to join me at about 3, and we left at 4ish to head home (via the liquor store though OBVS) for another swim in their pool. Nige fancies himself as a bit of a mixologist so he was in charge of pimping our proseccos, and we ended the day in style with a sunset balcony dinner. Deeeelightful!