Grand Cayman
My first land "excursion" was in Grand Cayman. Since my friend had "been there, done that," I was pretty much on my own for all of the land excursions. I didn't book anything through the cruise line in advance because they're kind of expensive (and I'm not exactly Mr. Moneybags). I figured there would be local bus tours available for cheapskates like me and, in this case, I was right. After being tendered in, I quickly found a bus tour at a very modest price.
The first stop was Hell. When I saw the road signs for Hell I figured I had landed on an island inhabited by smart alecks. I was intrigued until we got there and found out that very well may be the case. It turns out Hell is little more than an inland coral reef with the occasional iguana hanging out, catching some sun (Dante would have been underwhelmed). According to legend, it got its name when some Brit shot at a bird, missed, and yelled, "Bloody Hell!" Of course, this not particularly impressive attraction came with it's own souvenir shop ("The Devil's Hangout") which we were encouraged to explore. The souvenirs consisted mainly of t-shirts and hats emblazoned with every imaginable pun involving the word "Hell." Of course, I had to have the "I've Been to Hell and Back" hat for my father and the "Here Comes Trouble, Hell, Grand Cayman" t-shirts with little devils on them for my niece and nephew. The guy who rang me up was an elderly man with unusual facial hair, horns, and a cape: Satan himself. Again, Dante would have been disappointed, but secretly I wished I had a job as simple as his. Coincidentally, I experienced my own "hell on Earth" in the men's room shortly before leaving and almost missed the bus.
Our next stop was... another souvenir shop (I was getting the impression there wasn't a whole lot to be seen on Grand Cayman). This one mainly sold Tortuga rum and rum cakes. Samples for both were pretty good, but I was hardly in the market. Afterwards, we drove by the Turtle Farm. This and the Seven Mile Beach were the main attractions (aside from the tax shelters that make banking the island's biggest industry). From where we parked alongside the road, we could see the flippers of countless turtles flipping away in their large pools. Our bus unanimously decided to pass on the somewhat pricey Turtle Farm tour. Instead we drove around some more, our informed guide pointing out Bill Gate's place, where the Queen of England had stayed, and the leftover devastation from Hurricane Ivan. We were also informed that the movie, The Firm, had been filmed there (a movie I remember mostly for being about photocopying and Tom Cruise's face).
After we dropped off a couple people at Seven Mile Beach, we headed back to George Town; the tour was over. I had a couple hours before being due back on the ship, so I wandered around a bit, called my Mom to wish her a happy birthday, and then headed over to Coconut Joe's to get something for lunch (I had a very good fish sandwich and drank a few pints of a local beer). While I was eating, I eavesdropped on some locals who were complaining about all the development going on. Is there any place on the planet where this conversation doesn't take place? It was comforting to me, that even in paradise, people will find something to bitch about.
The first stop was Hell. When I saw the road signs for Hell I figured I had landed on an island inhabited by smart alecks. I was intrigued until we got there and found out that very well may be the case. It turns out Hell is little more than an inland coral reef with the occasional iguana hanging out, catching some sun (Dante would have been underwhelmed). According to legend, it got its name when some Brit shot at a bird, missed, and yelled, "Bloody Hell!" Of course, this not particularly impressive attraction came with it's own souvenir shop ("The Devil's Hangout") which we were encouraged to explore. The souvenirs consisted mainly of t-shirts and hats emblazoned with every imaginable pun involving the word "Hell." Of course, I had to have the "I've Been to Hell and Back" hat for my father and the "Here Comes Trouble, Hell, Grand Cayman" t-shirts with little devils on them for my niece and nephew. The guy who rang me up was an elderly man with unusual facial hair, horns, and a cape: Satan himself. Again, Dante would have been disappointed, but secretly I wished I had a job as simple as his. Coincidentally, I experienced my own "hell on Earth" in the men's room shortly before leaving and almost missed the bus.
Our next stop was... another souvenir shop (I was getting the impression there wasn't a whole lot to be seen on Grand Cayman). This one mainly sold Tortuga rum and rum cakes. Samples for both were pretty good, but I was hardly in the market. Afterwards, we drove by the Turtle Farm. This and the Seven Mile Beach were the main attractions (aside from the tax shelters that make banking the island's biggest industry). From where we parked alongside the road, we could see the flippers of countless turtles flipping away in their large pools. Our bus unanimously decided to pass on the somewhat pricey Turtle Farm tour. Instead we drove around some more, our informed guide pointing out Bill Gate's place, where the Queen of England had stayed, and the leftover devastation from Hurricane Ivan. We were also informed that the movie, The Firm, had been filmed there (a movie I remember mostly for being about photocopying and Tom Cruise's face).
After we dropped off a couple people at Seven Mile Beach, we headed back to George Town; the tour was over. I had a couple hours before being due back on the ship, so I wandered around a bit, called my Mom to wish her a happy birthday, and then headed over to Coconut Joe's to get something for lunch (I had a very good fish sandwich and drank a few pints of a local beer). While I was eating, I eavesdropped on some locals who were complaining about all the development going on. Is there any place on the planet where this conversation doesn't take place? It was comforting to me, that even in paradise, people will find something to bitch about.
posted by BayonneMike at 2:30 PM
7 Comments:
I suspect that "Hell" was created to draw tourists...
Shot a bird and missed,so they named the town after his response. And people pay for T-shirts...who is more retarted?
I just singed my conscience. Those poor impoverished natives have to make a living too. I once bought a couple bottles of banana sauce, but I suppose that won't diminish my guilt now. Bloody Hell...
When I was a little boy, I also had a comical fascination with the Devil. Maybe it was the Warner Bros. depiction of the Devil throwing back up to earth the inventor's shrewish wife, or the idea that the Devil was a former angel that started it.
I used to twist two clumps of my auburn crew cut into devil horns and say "look Ma, I'm the devil." One year someone gave me a red devil bank, teardrop shaped, with the words "C'Mon Down!" on the belly. He has white hair, which Mom would clean now and then with Woolite. I can't remember anyone ever discouraging my interest.
I say "has white hair," not "had." After having moved four times since the '70s and thrown out all of the junk from childhood, it sits now on a shelf over my kitchen sink, right near the oven. It's my Rosebud. The devil bank, my red-eared slider, my wedding ring would all be sorely missed if gone.
In a NORC* coop, I often get to see boxes of junk thrown out by people who clean out an apartment for an old person that died. I know that's where my bank will end up some day, in a box in the basement, but for now I hold on to this one thing from when I was boy.
__________
*--Naturally Occurring Retirement Community (like your cruise without the water)
I felt that way about Poor Floppy, a beloved stuffed puppy, but my mom tossed him out and ruined me forever.
Good thing Hell had a bathroom, Mike.
Poor Floppy. My Mother saved all of our kiddie comforts - whether we liked it or not.
I've saved my daughter's stuffed bunny with its one ear and bald spots. I can't tell you how many times I've sewn that ear back on and restuffed the body. I can't recall exactly what happened to the missing ear. Maybe one day we'll find it in a box in the basement.
Love Is Blind...(and apparently hard of hearing)
This place is a highlight for many people and that's the reason it gets visited by many on regular basis and is a certain attraction. Going through sources of traveling like best east coast bus tours is always a supportive decision and goes in our favor.
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