A swift ‘getaway weekend’ wave, whisked me from my neighbouring island and landed me in a sanctuary, an hour and 10 minutes flight time. I heard a warm whisper, “Welcome!”
Soon everyone was disappearing from the airport. Quietness embraced me.
I held my breath, anticipating the expectations of this ‘small’ island, as my fellow islanders ‘back home’ referred to Grand Cayman. For centuries, there had been a deep connection between the Cayman Islands and Jamaica, both being from a British lineage.
I was at a place where many Jamaicans called home. It was a delightful time for a Jamaican family when a father returned from Grand Cayman. He boasted fine clothes and household items, and he ensured to accumulate sufficient money to build an elegant house. All in all, the family’s standard of living improved.
Never before was the start to any of my weekends so peaceful than when I visited Grand Cayman. In no time, I had dived into serenity.
Each morning, I was awakened by waves of drunkenness, a welcomed hangover from the stillness of the nights at which times I slept soundly. Throughout the days, I was under a spell, attacked by waves of monstrous heat, but I walked and walked and walked, my head brimmed with a broad straw hat. However, I made sure to refuel by drinking with sufficient fluids. As far as I had determined, basically, on the island, ‘everywhere was fairly near to everywhere’.
For the most part, I had been spontaneous about everything. And I liked that.
The translucent waters and unexpectedly cool sands at Seven Mile Beach made the stretch a peach of a beach! Dining in the garden, under a canopy, with my cousins at their home in West Bay was enjoyable as I dived into my own country’s favourites, which included curry goat, fried chicken, rice and peas, potato salad and fried plantains. I tried to ‘follow fashion’ by adding more and more pepper sauce to the traditional curry dish which was already seasoned with Scotch bonnet. Soon, not only was I hot with heat, but also with pepper! It was then I learnt that pepper was at the depth of Cayman’s culinary culture. Pepper was a ‘must have’ at the table.
When I visited the Turtle Farm, I was enchanted. It was a galaxy! There were turtles of all sizes swimming; displaying their sparkling, shiny shells. As a nature lover, it was one of the most impressive moments in my life, to be at the oldest endangered green sea turtle conservation and education facility in the world.
Shopping was always a ‘happily ever after’ experience. And yes, at times, I had to dive real deep into my pocket, but the purchases were truly worth the dollars. I am still proud of my authentic travel bag which I bought more than 15 years ago. I recall Kirk Freeport with its abundance of perfumes and souvenirs.
Altogether, the island was an absolute wave of splendour. It was super clean. I felt sporty and safe with my teenage sons who accompanied me on one occasion, and also other times with my 10-year-old niece and nephew. Because I was captivated by quietness, despite my somewhat impulsive getaway, I was still able to rest and to revitalize. I shared creative times with the children teaching them to play paper and pencil games: ‘tic-tac-toe’ and ‘boxes’. And I could see their imaginations surfing new waves as I told them amusing ‘Anancy’ stories.
Although the Spaniards may not have left any treasures of gold in the island, Grand Cayman has a depth of culture beyond pure gold. Apart from its aquatic sports, tourist attractions and fine cuisine it offers a distinct quietude; a feeling of wellbeing.
After each of my visits, waves of rippling memories always lingered, forming a fresh heartbeat as I returned home to a different rhythm. I waved, then waved again, to the magical island of Grand Cayman, “Next time.”
Dorothy Purge
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