We’ve arrived. Nanny Cay, Tortola, British Virgin Islands. We blasted 3500 miles across the United States, saying temporary goodbyes to friends and family and a final farewell to my beat-up but loyal white Volkswagen Jetta. Never again will Mustang-driving men with tribal bicep tats pull up to a stop light next to me, look over at my car with an anticipatory smirk, and be shocked to find my bearded face in the place of the 22 year blonde girl they expected. Bummer. I took pleasure in their disappointment. But sacrifices had to be made – we weren’t going to pay $1000 to store a $1500 car for a year.
We covered 12 states on the drive in 9 days, woooo-ing at every border sign, reveling in gas station cuisine. Nights were spent in Salt Lake City, Denver, St. Louis, D.C., and Raleigh. Underwhelming barbeque was consumed in Kansas City (I’m looking at you, Joe’s – no burnt ends?!). The world’s largest prairie dog (statue) was encountered, but not seen, as the proprietor built a plywood fence around to ward off un-paying eyes. From pig farms to large scale pot farms, we experienced much on this drive. I even saw a baby cow chasing a flock of ducks around a meadow in Utah. It was a fitting end to this phase.
After a sketchy craiglist deal on my car that may or may not come back to haunt me, we did a final weight check on all our bags last night. 47 pounds each for all four checked. Including the carry-ons, we brought nearly 270 pounds of gear. So much for minamilism. We got in one last American Meal with our good friends Tim and Elizabeth, then retired to bed in anticipation of a 3am wake up. Lots of tossing, not much sleeping. Alarm blaring and vibrating against the glass bedside table by the time I finally nodded off. On our way to the airport by 3:45am and taking off at 6am, we made our south via Miami and St. Juan. Long layovers, mild nagging anticipation-tension, finally arriving at the marina at 9:30pm after a short but mildly nerve-racking flight in a Cessna 406 over open ocean.
Riding in to Nanny Cay in the back of the taxi on the way to the hotel we caught a glimpse of boats up on stands. Our eyes darted frantically for signs of Paradox. Nothing. She’ll have to wait until morning. Probably better that way anyway.
We did find cold Presidente and warm ocean to wade into, though. More to report tomorrow, I’m sure.
ps- we did a crappy job of taking photos on this trip, so all you get in this post are hot dogs.
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