Tortola Christmas 2023 - Day 6: A Homecoming Odyssey

Getting home is basically just reversing the arrival process. We left the Airbnb some time before 10 AM and drove over the hill to Road Town, stopping to gas up the rental car on the way.

Our ferry to St. Thomas wasn't until 11:30 AM, so we took about half an hour to stroll around Tortola Pier Park before returning the Pilot to the rental counter (at the nearby hotel).

There was a DJ serenading a mostly empty green, while some cruise passengers milled around the mostly empty shops.

It was a beautiful day for a stroll along the water, although it was noticeably hotter, with barely a wisp of wind, on this side of the island.

We were surprised that almost nothing was open, considering there was a 3000+ passenger ship docked within shouting distance. Presumably everyone was enjoying some boat and/or wild taxi rides around the island, going to Cane Garden Bay, Jost Van Dyke, or Virgin Gorda.

We seized the opportunity for another group photo with a mural sign. Kina had mentioned that she thought the "Tortola" sign was at Pier Park, but this was the closest we could find.

Tourists are always happy to take group photos for other people, providing someone in the group reciprocates.

Having worked up an impressive sweat in merely 30 minutes, we returned the car and walked the short distance to the ferry terminal, where we once again had to pay per-bag fees and per-person "port fees" on top of the round-trip tickets we already had. (For future reference: It's all still much cheaper than flying in a prop plane from St. Thomas or San Juan.)

The ferry ride was smoother than the arrival one had been. It was the same vessel, with the same movie playing. I don't know if it only seemed faster, or if it actually was faster due to calmer conditions, but we all agreed that it was easier than the outbound journey.

I think it was also less crowded, and there wasn't as much (any?) cargo going in that direction, so unloading all of the luggage was faster. The US customs and immigration process went faster than the BVI side had, too.

It was around 1 PM, and our flight wasn't until 5:30. Conveniently, the taxi company operating out of the ferry terminal offers free luggage storage until 3 PM if you use their services, and there's a restaurant upstairs in the same building.

I love it when a plan comes together; we had a leisurely lunch, overlooking Hassel Island and the Charlotte Amalie Harbor Seaplane Base. Just as we were about to order food, a plane departed.

After lunch, we taxied back to the airport, had to do customs and immigration again (because it's a "port of entry"... it's a strange situation: you don't actually need a passport, but I think they asked us for 2 forms of ID when we didn't have them last time we were here?).

The St. Thomas airport is tiny, but decent. It only has 8 gates, all of which can be seen by turning your head a bit.

Flying on Christmas Eve turned out to be a brilliant plan. (Previous year's trips have been on Christmas Day, which have also been fairly easy, as I recall.)

The security line was almost nonexistent; we've had mixed luck with crowds at small, island airports before, but today was smooth. I think last time we were here, it was a bit crazy. (Admittedly, that was in January, further into peak season, and also during a government shutdown.)

The plane was also half empty, so everything was easier and faster. The flight was uneventful, and we landed in a nearly-deserted (and new) Terminal A at Newark. Having cleared customs in St. Thomas (twice) already, we strolled straight through to our waiting car service.

There was essentially zero traffic at that time of night on Christmas Eve (circa 10 PM), as we returned to Lauren's apartment. On our way home, we dropped off Jeanne and Rudy, then dropped off Steve, reaching the end of our odyssey just after midnight. I guess we technically got home on Christmas Day.

Closing thoughts, notes for my future self, and other ramblings:

Tortola was delightful. Much of the appeal for us was that it's low-key, slow-paced, and not very developed. It lived up to all of those promises. There were no high-rise hotels, mega-resorts, chain restaurants, big-box stores, or tacky tourist traps. Everything was genuine, and everyone was friendly.

Being somewhat-inconvenient to reach, what with the ferry (or expensive connecting flight on a tiny plane), it was not very crowded. The entire island has fewer than 24,000 residents, more than half of which live in Road Town. This means that a fully-loaded cruise ship can seriously crowd the area, and on some days there are two in port. We knew ahead of time there would be two ships on Tuesday, Wednesday, and Thursday, but only one on Friday, Saturday, and Sunday. Also they seem to leave fairly early, and some of them were smaller ships.

It's a bit tedious to take all of this into account for activity/destination planning, in addition to other logistics like drive times, meals, hours/days of operations, etc., but it's all worth the trouble when a plan comes together without any real traffic, crowds, or lines. Obviously this is a benefit of traveling the week before Christmas, instead of after. (That, and the prices for everything seem to double between Christmas and New Year's Eve.)

This trip involved the highest average boat-rides-per-day that I can recall, of any trip we've ever done. The ferry to Virgin Gorda was downright pleasant. The ride between St. Thomas and Tortola wasn't fantastic, but it was fine; it's possible that other days/times/vessels would've been a better experience.

Island-hopping with the charter boat was fantastic, and while it was sort of our one splurge of the trip, it wasn't shockingly expensive either. The round-trip ferry from West End to Jost Van Dyke, alone, would've been $40/person anyway. And renting our own boat would've been extremely expensive, even if the hypothetical rental company would be willing to overlook our combined, relative lack of boating qualifications or experience.

Getting to snorkel off Norman Island was great. The southern side of Tortola, or more properly the Sir Francis Drake Channel, is apparently the only calm area this time of year where, so we wouldn't have gotten to snorkel anywhere if not for the charter boat. It might have been possible to take a ferry to Normal Island, if we'd rented snorkel gear ourselves. It would be nice to come back in the spring or summer, at some point, to experience the snorkeling elsewhere on Tortola.

Driving around seems to be the only viable way to experience Tortola, and probably also Virgin Gorda. (A trip to Jost Van Dyke would not involve a rental car.) I didn't find the driving on Tortola to be especially challenging, but it's certainly not easy.

In addition to the usual British territory fun with driving on the wrong side, the island is very lumpy and some of the roads aren't well-maintained. It was very similar to driving in St. Thomas, with incredible views along the ridge road, ample blind corners, steep switchbacks, cars and trucks parked anywhere and everywhere, and local residents who want to drive much faster than visitors. Also there are speedbumps everywhere. Usually they're painted, partially. The roads were in good condition, for the most part. Some of them even have names. Gasoline wasn't extremely expensive, but that might be because the price of oil is relatively low at the moment.

The food was average, for the most part; it's not like we were seeking out fine-dining restaurants. It wasn't exorbitantly priced, given how far most of it has to travel, but it's certainly not cheap to eat there.

Cooking a few dinners in the spacious kitchen at the rental house wasn't difficult, and saved us some money, but mostly it was nice to minimize driving up and down that hill, especially at night. It's always difficult to work in someone else's kitchen, but this one was quite good. All of the cabinets and drawers were labeled, and the kitchen was well-equipped.

There's no fresh water supply on Tortola, so all of the water is either desalinated/treated seawater, or rainwater capture. I imagine the desalinated water is only available in Road Town, or at least at lower elevations. The villa had rainwater capture, which fills cisterns. This water is filtered/treated so it's safe for dishes, showering, laundry, etc., but it still has a musty odor. It wasn't subtle, either.

The house had chilled and heated reverse-osmosis water available on demand, which was nice. We had purchased several gallons of water at the RiteWay to bring to the beach, which helped. The RO process is very slow, and it would have taken... probably ten minutes? to fill a gallon jug.

There was a backup generator, in addition to the solar panels and utility power. The internet was extremely fast, and the house was covered by a mesh wifi network. It's amusing (and somewhat pathetic on our part) that the internet speed is better on a small island in the Caribbean than we can get in most of the US.

The villa was easily the nicest accommodation we've had for one of these family trips; it was also a bit of a splurge, compared with our usual choices, but splitting it six ways makes it affordable. We were lucky to find it, and that only happened because we booked it in early May. Currently, the house is almost 100% booked through the end of April. It did set a dangerous precedent, however.

I would be happy to go back to Tortola, Jost Van Dyke, or Virgin Gorda any time. There are ferries to all of them from St. Thomas, although some of them are very infrequent. It would be tricky to plan flights/ferries to Jost Van Dyke without staying on St. Thomas, I suspect.

Overall, given the complexity of some of the travel we pulled off without any problems, the trip was a resounding success. We continue to hone the process, planning, and packing, a little bit more every year. It's almost time to start planning the next one, already.

Tortola Christmas 2023 - Day 5: Brewers Bay

After several days of adventure, we all needed a day of relaxation. I couldn't believe it, but people wanted to go back to the beach again. We hadn't yet tried the beach at the bottom of the hill here, so we planned to try that one first, and head up to Brewers Bay Beach, either as a fallback plan or just after getting bored at Long Bay.

The villa has upper and lower parking areas. The first day, we made it all the way to the lower one to unload luggage, but have been using the upper parking area since. This means we go up the stairs sort of in the middle of the villa, between the central living/kitchen area and the eastern bedrooms.

We rolled out at 10 AM. It only took 5 minutes to drive down the switchbacks to the bottom, and park next to the Tropical Fusion beach bar. The "north swell" and/or "Christmas winds" were in full effect again today, leaving barely any dry sand in sight.

The bosses took a look around and didn't like what they saw. I offered to walk up the beach and peek around the corner, in case it was miraculously dry or wider sand over there; it was not. We sort of already knew this, as we can see most of the beach from the villa.

We all milled around for awhile, enjoying the view, before calling in the fallback option and piling back in the rental car.

We motored back up the coast a bit, winded up and over the hill into Cane Garden Bay, and continued up and over the next hill. While looking at the map, it just occurred to me that most of the roads here don't even have names; this is a deep rabbit hole, so to speak.

The view looking back down to CGB from the southern slope was stunning.

It was just over a mile from the top, along Route 1, down to the edge of Brewers Bay. At some point in that stretch of very steep road, we encountered a goat waiting patiently to cross. I obliged.

I think he was an escapee; there were 3 or 4 feet of chain trailing from his collar.

We found a spot to park near the beach, and the approval committee began the inspection.

We almost had the entire beach to ourselves. It's probably harder for those truck-taxis to get down to, and the only thing resembling a commercial operation on the entire beach is Nicole's Beach Bar (I didn't make the walk, but it sounded rough... you can see it in the background), so the very obvious choice is to take cruise passengers to the adjacent CGB.

Having done our research, we came prepared with our own refreshments today. It's important to stay hydrated.

The water was absolutely beautiful. As everywhere else in this area, the surf was a bit rough and there was a noticeable current dragging to the right, but it didn't stop us from enjoying the ocean.

It's allegedly a fantastic spot to snorkel... when the water is calm. If we ever make it back here in the not-winter, I'll be sure to test that theory. We met a family from the US who were intent on trying anyway; they had poor results.

Just when I thought I couldn't top the hammock time at Smuggler's Cove the other day, I found this perfect spot in the shade. Shame I forgot my book, though.

I conceded to the beach bums that I would be happy to go to the beach all day, any day, if the experience were like this. For me, anyway, this is peak beach; simply unmatched.

Jeanne came over and offered to do a photoshoot for me. Sure, why not?

At least two or three of us got some nap time in. We were there for about 4½ hours, judging by the timestamps on these photos. I had no idea what time it was, whatsoever.

Eventually, we ran out of beverages (except water) and starting getting hangry, so we bid farewell to this perfect spot and pointed the Pilot at the West End. Rather than go up-and-over twice to go through CGB again, we climbed back into the sky to ride the ridge road for some more scenic views.

As if going down switchbacks isn't fun enough, I had to pass a backhoe in the middle of one. I do wonder how "exciting" it is to drive these roads in something like this, though.

Sort of on the way back, we stopped at a local grocery store to pick up some food for dinner back at the villa. As we pulled into the upper driveway, we caught a glimpse of a goat going down the stairs toward the house... no idea where it went, though.

Now that we would need to load luggage into the car again, I parked down at the lower car park, under the solar panels. This photo doesn't quite capture it, but it is an alarmingly steep descent.

Before dinner, we decided to take some group shots up on the roof deck at sunset. I needed a cover photo for our shared album, mostly.

Rudy was my model while setting up the shot with a timer. He didn't know that, I suspect.

Not gonna lie... it took a lot of attempts to get photos where everyone was paying attention, with eyes open and something resembling a smile. I have renewed empathy for wedding photographers.

Tomorrow morning, we embark on another adventure to get home. We'll leave the villa, return the rental car, take a ferry back to St. Thomas, somehow get to the airport, fly back to Newark...

I'm fairly sure we have a car service lined up for a ride back to Lauren's building. Then maybe we're dropping off Jeanne and Rudy in NJ, and Steve in PA, before maybe getting home before Christmas Eve is over.

It should be interesting. Somewhere in there we might see a bit more of Road Town, and maybe Charlotte Amalie? TBD.

Tortola Christmas 2023 - Day 4: Cane Garden Bay, Virgin Gorda

It rained last night, and was threatening more this morning, but by the time we ate breakfast at the house and loaded up the car, it had mostly cleared up.

First, we zipped up the road along the northern coast to Cane Garden Bay. We'd had it on good authority (from Kina, and Cruise Mapper that there was only a single cruise ship in port today, and a (relatively) small one at that [~1000 passengers], so it seemed like a good day to go to one of the most popular spots on the island.

We encountered some light rain on the drive, but the clouds gave way quickly and the view coming down the hill into the bowl of the bay was lovely.

According to our (admittedly limited) research, the CGB area, as I've just decided we should call it, would have something for everyone: Jeanne, Sabrina, and Lauren could go enjoy the beach while Rudy, Steve, and I checked out the Callwood Rum Distillery. And then there were plenty of beach bars/restaurants if someone wanted lunch or whatever.

We parked in some random lot that looked like a parking lot, adjacent to where the pickup-truck taxis were loading/unloading cruise passengers.

I only had a vague idea where the distillery was, and we didn't see anything obvious on the drive in, so we walked a scant 1/4 of a mile back the way we'd come in, looking for a road that led inland.

The first road we found looked promising, until we followed it a bit and found nothing but goats and some houses.

Back at the main road, we found a sign for the distillery just past our wrong turn. Still nothing obviously resembling a distillery. I knew the Callwood operation was small, so it could be just behind this derelict boat.

It was smaller than expected. If a taxi full of cruise tourists hadn't been leaving when we arrived, I'm not sure we would have believed this was the place. It turns out the building is about 400 years old, though, and they've apparently tried to keep it in original condition.

The sole employee led us inside, where he seemed happy to give up his well-rehearsed spiel and administer a few $1-for-all-5 tastings. 10:20 AM seemed a bit early for rum, but we didn't want to upset him.

While making smalltalk, he lamented the fact that many of the cruise tourists were older and on medication that prevented them from drinking alcohol. The entire operation could probably fit in a 3-car garage, including their barrel racks. The photos on the website show them running a still outdoors. It was a neat little place, and I'm glad we took the time and effort to find it.

Leaving Callwood, we started at the absolute end of CGB beach and began a search pattern to locate the shorter half of our party.

There were indeed plenty of sand-adjacent fine-dining locations, but none of them seemed to be open (yet?).

Having reconvened the fellowship, we enjoyed about an hour at the beach and in the water. The waves were not as rough here, and there was no lateral current, unlike there had been at Smuggler's Cove.

I think we left CGB around 11:30 AM; we had to get the rest of the way across Tortola, to Beef Island, to catch a 1 PM ferry. The views along Ridge Road were lovely. Everyone loved the steep hills and sharp curves, especially Jeanne.

Once we found the short bridge the Beef Island, we circled around to the back of the small airport to find the ferry terminal.

We were about 15 minutes early, so a few of us admired the Mokes in the parking lot. This one was going to need some TLC, I suspect.

This one had been converted to electric, as Rudy discovered when he inexplicably popped the hood.

Other people used the downtime for more productive tasks, as usual.

I was admiring the other vessels using the port. I can't remember why we decided to use the human ferry instead of the car ferry; I think the details were scarce, and the schedule very limited. If we were to do it again, I might try harder to find that info. It does look a bit sketchy, though.

The people ferry, operated by Speedy's, was simply a joy, however. Not only was it nearly empty (except for packages, luggage, and other small cargo), but they also gave us complimentary punch or egg nog, turkey or ham sandwiches, and some sort of king cake.

Unlike the ferry from St. Thomas to Tortola, this one had a large rooftop seating area, although it was nearly empty. The extreme wind might've had something to do with that. Nobody else would join me, and I didn't last long.

That hat is strapped on. I learned my lesson (twice) on other boats, over the years.

In addition to the snacks and drinks, they were also running a free Christmas raffle. Since we were approximately 50% of the passengers, Sabrina won. The prize was a free round-trip ticket; we had already paid. (Also I think it explicitly says "on a future voyage" or something. Maybe we'll have to come back?)

We had opted for the ferry-and-taxi combo deal, which included transport by pickup-truck-taxi (think: 5 or 6 bench seats with side rails and a roof, bolted onto the back of an F250. These are common in BVI, and we had seen them elsewhere in USVI, too).

It was only about 2 miles from the ferry terminal to our destination. I got some of the best views of the local cactus that I'd seen, on that ride. Being very high up helps.

That destination was "The Baths", about which we had done almost zero research, beyond multiple personal recommendations.

The red flag was flying above the ticket office, so the beaches were technically closed for swimming. We didn't know there were beaches, so this was no real loss for us.

We followed the suggested, one-way route around the loop trail. The start of it was hot, sunny, and full of cactus. There were some complaints about the weather conditions. But it wasn't raining, so I'll take the win.

As one does in the tropics, we saw plenty of lizards on the trail. They were larger here than the ones we encounter, hunting for bugs back at the villa. They were also not shy. There's no zoom in the reptile photos here; they just let me get that close, and it's not like I was stealthy. Lauren, in particular, would have preferred that they were more shy.

Some of the cactus were very tall; Steve for scale.

We were nominally looking for "The Baths", but first, we encountered Devil's Bay.

This is where some of the beaches were, but the signs were all "swim at your own risk" anyway; it was a bit of a hike to get out here, and there certainly weren't any lifeguards.

I didn't exactly "swim", but I certainly went most of the way into the water to cool off. The surf was violent enough to dissuade me, more than any red flag could have.

I guess maybe we went in the wrong side of Devil's Bay, because we didn't find this fancy sign until we were leaving. But we followed the recommended "one way trail", so it's a bit confusing.

Not much past The Bay, we found the start of The Baths.

There were several tunnels under the enormous boulders, like this, where one could squeeze/limbo through and find a tranquil pool on the far side. The barrier of boulders stopped the raging surf, but still let in enough seawater to keep it cool and refreshing.

There was an area that might've been good for a swim, on a calmer day, where a 15 or 20 people were testing their luck, or watching others test theirs. We did not venture out onto the rocks, or into the churning currents.

To continue on the trail, we all had to limbo through this passage; some people cheated by being short.

The rest of the trail, rated as "moderate" on the sign, was a winding maze of ladders, bridges, water crossing, and rock-passage squeezing.

We occasionally stopped to let a group pass us, or for someone going the wrong way, as we were in no particular hurry and wanted to enjoy the amazing natural scenery.

In places where it wasn't obvious which way to go, there were green arrows painted on the rock. They were also there in a few spots where it was very obvious where the trail was.

Once we escaped from the boulder maze, we found the beaches that were closed with the red flag.

A few of us attempted to wash our shoes in the battering surf, before Steve came back to inform us that there were foot-rinse stations up ahead.

We had about an hour until the return ride to the ferry, and we'd worked up quite an appetite a thirst, so we made a water stop at the Top of the Baths. While there, we also had a round of cold drinks and hot snacks.

Our fancy wristbands were all we needed to get back on the truck-taxi, around 5 PM, as the clouds started to roll in.

Back at the ferry terminal, we sat in the shade and admired the tenacity of this family of chickens, while waiting for the barely-organized chaos of the port to clear up. The 5 PM to Road Town hadn't yet left, and people were trying to load cargo as passengers were departing on the small pier. There was a queue for the Beef Island boat, and employees kept asking us which ferry we were taking.

Eventually, the earlier ferry departed, and all the remained was a snarl of vehicles trying to pick up and deliver packages and cargo to and from the same boat, simultaneously. Some people resorted to rolling a cart down the pier, while some opted to drive it. Smaller packages were piled unceremoniously on the pavement, presumably awaiting pickup.

Our return voyage didn't include any snacks, although I'm not sure any of us looked for them. There was another Christmas raffle, but we didn't win because there were more than 12 people on the vessel this time.

Back on Tortola, we navigated the post-ferry rush as the sun was setting, then drove practically the entire length of the island back to where we're staying. We opted to head through Road Town and take the coast road, rather than stay on the ridge road, what with the crazy roads and the darkness.

Having reached the relative calm of the West End of the island (Road Town was a Christmas-light-adorned hive of activity), we stopped for dinner at Tramonti (casual waterfront mediterranean place adjacent to a boutique hotel). It was quite good, and surprisingly speedy service, so we were back at the villa at a reasonable hour.

Here, you catch a rare glimpse of the tour guides hard at work, sorting through photos and discussing plans for tomorrow.

The consensus is that we've probably had enough adventure for now, so tomorrow will be a slower-paced beach sort of day. Perhaps it will be the nearby Long Bay Beach, upon which we have not yet stepped despite it being at the bottom of the hill and visible from the many decks here.