Team Restless

Los Angeles, California TO Tortola, British Virgin Islands

The flight to D.C. sucked, I was incredibly uncomfortable on the plane. They had no pillows and it was freezing cold, so i just sort of tossed and turned the whole time. The flight down to Puerto Rico from there was not so bad, but I really started feeling antsy in my seat. Everything seemed to be going fine until I tried to connect with my flight to Tortola, I should have known. Flying in the Caribbean is a friggin’ joke. People have a different sensibility and sense of "customer service". I try not to let it piss me off, because I know that this their place not mine....chill out Brenda, don't be such a goddamn impatient American, but come on, when your ticket agent tells you "your flights been canceled" you kind of want some explanation, or at least an assurance of flight later in the day. Well, that's not quite what i got...it was more like "your flights been canceled - we're not sure what we're going to do with you yet, have a seat, we'll call you over in an hour or so... " That shit would so not be going down at La Guardia, I tell ya! Anyways, I tried to relax, and about 41/2 hours later the finally put me on a plane.....

I arrived in the evening with little problem although a very "friendly" local fella on the plane over to Tortola made a point of letting me know, he really was the best person to have show me around the island, and if I gave him my phone # he would be more than happy to "help me out". I told him that unfortunately I didn't have a phone that worked here (shucks!).

Off I went. Things went as smoothly as I could have hoped for through customs. I flashed an innocent a smile as possible to the customs fellow who offered to come along with me on our trip to the south Pacific, I told him he was welcome, as long as he was willing to carry my bags the whole way.

Once through the doors of the airport I peeked around the corner nervously, somewhat unsure if I would be able to recognize Eric when I saw him. But of course I did, immediately. He looked a bit different than I expected, but most certainly did have the typical male yachtie look: comfortable hat to keep the sun out of his eyes, solid, simple clothing in plain neutral colors, classic farmers tan, and a pretty svelte frame. He was typical, but in a good way. So off we went. I was in such a daze at first. I hadn't really slept in over 36 hours, and to be honest I'm not really all that sure of what we talked about. He pointed various things out to me along the way, but it was far past sunset at that point, and my point of reference was lost in BALMY darkness of the islands evening.

We stopped for dinner at a local pizza spot where the food was actually quite tasty. Typical Caribbean, the service was lax, and slow, but good none the less (I am getting much better, the more traveling I do at understanding that my frustrations with other peoples cultural norms- like slow service, are my problem not theirs, and I need to get over it and adapt! It's their island not mine).

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