The subtle sound of steel drums and the balmy Caribbean air drifted throughout the windows and slipped into our cabin as my sisters and I slept, tenderly awaking our senses. We looked out our cabin window to view lush green mountains speckled with bright turquoise and pink houses. Our cruise ship drew slowly into the lively port city of St John’s, the capital of Antigua and Barbuda. After days of nothing but sea and endless buffets, I was ready to get my feet wet on the beach. I wanted to discover the Caribbean I had only dreamed about from discolored pictures of my parents’ honeymoon and from TV specials on travel channels.
My sisters and I disembarked the boat with our bellies empty, ready to explore the local cuisine and culture. We wandered around the small island’s city center hungrily searching for a place to curb our appetite and gather energy for the day ahead. We inquired with some locals about the best breakfast eatery in the area, and they all talked of a delicious local café perfectly named Hemingway’s Caribbean Cafe. Housed atop a small colorful artisan craft store, the interiors resembled a quaint island house, washed with vivid peach and turquoise paint and complete with an airy outside balcony with cheery green and white tablecloths and blue glass hanging lamps. Menu items included local favorites such as deep fried and battered conch fritters and western favorites including omelets, pancakes, and sandwiches. I ordered moist, perfectly sweetened pancakes with fresh maple syrup. Each bite contained the subtle sugary flavors of tropical pineapple and guava.
After breakfast, we eagerly asked our friendly waitress for the name of the best beach on the island. Without hesitation, she named Turner’s Beach. After an idyllic breakfast, we left the restaurant with our bellies full and satisfied from the delicious fare, and headed toward our next destination: Turner’s Beach.
We met our parents after breakfast at Hemingway’s, ready for a day of exploring and lounging at Turner’s Beach. My parents were enthusiastic for a day of exploring the island, but not so keen on overheating at the beach, so we compromised on a car tour of the island with Turner’s Bay as the final destination. Walking around the small city center, we were automatically targeted as tourists and approached by a number of enthusiastic tour guides eager to show us around their beautiful island. A friendly man named Nicholas approached us clad in a tropical patterned flower shirt, promising reasonable prices and breathtaking sites.Thus, he became our tour guide for the day.
