A Wing and A Prayer

Monday morning in San Juan I woke early, too keyed up (for no reason) about getting to Virgin Gorda.  First, there was the case of wine we were smuggling into BVI (the “B” stands for British, which means passports and customs, and forms, and questions).  Secondly, it was a small plane and I was (unnecessarily) worried about logistics.

So, as the sun came up, I headed out to the beach for a nearly hour long walk.  At points I couldn’t get around some concrete abutments blocking the beach, so I had to head inland, past a hospital with a Uno’s pizza and a Starbucks thoughtfully located on the bottom floor.

After breakfast, the seven of us climbed into a cab and headed to the airport.  As we got to the Sunshine Air counter, the pilot greeted us and said, “good, you are the entire flight, so we can leave early!”  We ended up leaving so early that we got to Virgin Gorda a half hour before we were supposed to leave San Juan!

We checked everything in, including the wine box that the pilot said, “is that your cooler,” to which I hastily replied “yes.” 

There were two other people working, the counter woman and the jack of all trades guy, who took us to security, helped us cut the line (which sounds more impressive than it was – there were three people in line), and led us through normal security.  We then walked to the gate, outside, under the airport, and to a bank of planes that are about the size of our Ford Expedition, but with propellers. 

The pilot greeted us, and put our camera bag and my computer bag into a hold on the wing.

We boarded the plane, and took off pretty much right away after a few pre-flight checks.  We were seven (TJ came later that afternoon), and the plane supposedly seats nine uncomfortably.  We could see Palomino Island and the islands where we stopped near with the catamaran for snorkeling last time we were in Puerto Rico.  I saw the bio bay we kayaked at night.  Carol filled out the passport/customs forms while we flew, and I made jokes about the fuel level and engine fires to Toni, who was sitting ahead of me.  Maddy both slept and turned green, but there weren’t any serious problems.  Carly and Anne did their paperwork.

As we flew past Tortola, Virgin Gorda came into view.  The pilot banked the plane and the dirt strip runway came into view.  We made a hard left, coming in almost sideways to the strip, before a quick right turn and down.  After pictures with the plane, we walked into the two room hut that serves as the immigration, customs, and counters for the 3,300 person island.

Since we arrived early, Geno wasn’t on hand to greet us.  I had alerted William we were leaving early, so we didn’t have to wait long.  The rental cars weren’t ready – we got the last two available on the island, and it showed.  One is a dented Vitara and the other is a scratched Tahoe on which the passenger door won’t open. 

But, first it was a $40 taxi ride (yikes!  Everything is expensive here) into town for lunch at one of the most stunning settings for a restaurant ever.  But, since it’s time for breakfast, I will follow up on this later, and hopefully post some pictures.