For our final day we have breakfast on the beach. It’s as lovely as it sounds with freshly cooked poached eggs sausage and bacon, toast tea and fresh fruit. We go straight from there to a sun lounger to make the most of our morning. Our taxi is picking us up at 1:45pm.
It feels like the best morning yet but that may be just because it’s our last and we want it to be. We lounge around in the sun weirdly not feeling end of holiday blues at all. I think the way we planned this has been bang on. If we’d gone home straight in backpacking mode I’d have been as miserable as sin. Spending a week chilling out at a lovely place as helped us put a lid on our journey.
We swim out to the edge of the marina and back as exercise and wash off the salt in a shower. An older chap is really impressed with our swimming and asks about snorkelling etc. There’s such a lovely atmosphere in this place, everyone is friendly without being in your face and asking questions or passing the time of day with others feels totally natural.
We pause our final attempts at soaking up some rays to finish our shuffleboard series. I triumph in another close game though Cath gets a little irritated by my tactic of smashing her scoring discs out of the way. Apparently there’s no skill involved in brute force.
Basking in my glory as Caribbean shuffleboard champion I retire to read my book in one of the shaded hammocks, the heat is intense. We have a final farewell dip and head to our room. The packing is all but done so showers and final checks are underway. I pop outside to get swimming stuff into the sun to dry as much as possible but get locked out somehow. As Cath’s showering she can’t hear my knocks and I’m stranded, not exactly an awful thing in the Caribbean sun. After a little while I knock again but she still can’t hear me, however our maid does and Polyanne lets me in.
Closing the cases up is really straightforward though we are a bit worried we are over the weight limit. We have rum – including some bottles which aren’t supposed to be transported (75% alcohol is classed as hazardous material). We are a little anxious.
Before we leave there’s time to look around the lovely little boutique and Cath spots some clothes she likes and I see some really nice paintings but there’s no room for extras and certainly no spare cash.
Out taxi takes us to Aquarium restaurant (recommended by people at the cocktail party). It’s a lovely restaurant which opens onto Magazine beach. Our server tells us he’s an intern and promptly spills ice on the table. He’s clearly quite anxious. We order a couple of beers as we look over the menu noting the view and the breeze. Our server comes back with bottles and chilled glasses. He pops Cath’s down then as he leans to place mine he loses his balance and she gets covered in Stag beer. He’s so embarrassed and she’s drenched. He can’t apologise enough as Cath nips off to try to dry in the toilets. Fortunately I popped a spare vest top of Cath’s in my carry on for some reason. Cath comes back to the table worrying she’ll stink of booze on the flight. The staff can’t apologise enough but it was an accident so we tell them not to fret. He’s so embarrassed he doesn’t serve us again.
The food is delish I have West Indian Beef Pepper Pot and Cath Curry Lamb. So good, we even splash out and have pudding – the standard Creme brûlée for me and choccy mousse for Cath. We had considered walking to the airport but having seen how steep the road is sack the idea and the restaurant orders us a cab. Just getting into the taxi on the hill is a serious effort!
Check in and security are a breeze and though we’re still a little nervous about the rum in our bags we wander around duty free picking up a bottle of gin and toying with the idea of more Caribbean rum but deciding, wisely, against it. The Virgin flight crew are milling about – their uniform is actually pretty decent. We chat briefly to an English man who lives now on Grenada. He loves it, and when we point out that we love the fact it’s not too touristy he agrees but says its both bad and good and that Grenada’s laid back attitude is sometimes it’s own worst enemy. I guess financially that’s possibly true but everyone we’ve come across seems happy enough with what they’ve got going on and Grenada still really feels like it has its identity which is great from our perspective.
Cath think she hears her name being called over the tannoy but we dismiss that. The tannoy announcements are really faint and the Virgin crew have boarded. We move closer I order to hear what’s going on. We see a couple form The Calabash and chat to them then we do hear Cath’s name being called – she’s to identify herself to the gate. Immediately we’re both anxious, it must be the rum! We hurriedly say goodbye to the couple and approach the desk. The lady tells us Cath’s bag has been opened but has been closed again and that a security buggy is on its way to get us. I can go as I’m her husband. Between us we try to work out what to say, I’ll say it’s mine and that we had no idea it was a problem. Thoughts of being sent to the prison on the hill enter our heads and I’m not sure the amazing view would be much of a consolation.
We get onto the back of the buggy with an incredibly sour faced man driving. We drive a short distance then he demands my passport to probe my identity. We walk in, there’s a posh lounge to our right and security ahead. An incredibly friendly woman greets us and offers us a local rum punch. I can’t understand why this is happening are they trying to lull us into a false sense of security. They show us into the posh room where there’s free drink and food. We sit both shaking with nervous adrenaline but trying to look entirely relaxed. Our rums arrive. It slowly dawns on us we’re sposed to be here. Cath’s cousin who booked our tickets is a Virgin gold member or something so we’re entitled to use the first class facilities! Gutted. We spent an hour and a half sat in normal waiting area. I have literally only started drinking my rum punch when were asked to board. Cath necks her and most of mine and we board.
The seats in premium economy are plush leather with loads of leg room and a prosecco in a glass glass is brought to us. We talk about missing out on really maximising the freebies in first class lounge but I guess it’s poetic justice for packing the rum. The selection of films is good and after the safety announcement done via the medium of cartoon we’re off. I start watching Deadpool (brilliant made me laugh out loud a few times) it’s only 30 mins to St Lucia where we’re on the ground for just over an hour. The entertainment system has to be restarted which interrupts my film watching but is no great annoyance.
It’s only just over 8 hours to Gatwick. The flight is smooth though Cath gets quite anxious at one point. She hates flying in the dark. We both watch three films (Deadpool, The Room and Revenant for me all really good. Revenant, The Martian and some Irish film for Cath.) I don’t get any sleep but Cath manages to grab 20 mins at the end of the flight. The food was decent and arrived on proper crockery with metal utensils. Cath enjoyed an after dinner brandy (nerve settler) as well. They weren’t exactly offering the alcohol liberally though if you asked we’re happy enough to give it out. They had a plentiful stash of water and orange which you could help yourself to. I got chatting to a bloke who’d spent £6,500 on two weeks at Palm Island he chuntered on about it for a while and other stuff. He meets his friends 3x a year to go fishing, he runs a B&B in Dorset but made money in construction etc etc.
Cath and I share a little tear on the plane. Not sadness. It’s just been so amazing. I’ve never felt so content and carefree as an adult. There’s been no pressure on us other than what we choose no structure or routine. We’ve simply been able to enjoy ourselves and each other’s company. It’s been amazing. We’ve done and experienced so much. I don’t think we could have asked for a better start to our marriage.
Landing is no issue and we get through passport control quickly. We come the luggage wait. We still have nerves about the rum. We wait and wait. And wait. Then wait some more. Just once I’d like our bags to be amongst the first off. It gets to the point where there’s less bags than people which is a concern. Finally with nothing left going around but still one or two people looking vainly for luggage we ask a virgin attendant. She asks if we were priority, we were, she explains our luggage came off separately and points out our bags lined up neatly. Our backpacks are there, intact, unopened. We scoot off to find Cath’s mum and start the drive home.
Sue’s waiting for us and it’s lovely to see her. We get to the car, it’s not that cold here!! Battling against the tiredness we chat for a bit but neither of us can hold it off for long and soon are snoozing away.
It takes about three hours to get to Sue’s where we eat some lunch drink tea and chat away. Finally we get up the energy to head back to Normsie.
It strikes us that England looks so modern and organised compared to what we’ve been used to for three months. Back at ours we see our neighbour Martin who was keeping a watchful eye on our gaff while we were away the. We’re into the house. So lovely to be home.
We spend the afternoon sorting the house out and dealing with the our luggage. Sue, the legend, has fully stocked our fridge including the stuff to make sausage and mash which is the food I said I’d been missing!!
It’s good to be home.
The return For our final day we have breakfast on the beach. It's as lovely as it sounds with freshly cooked poached eggs sausage and bacon, toast tea and fresh fruit.