The Valley Hotels
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Yesterday, airline woes, today, car rental delays
Entry 2 of 4 | show all | print this entry |
Reading about Bob & Melinda's path to opening a restaurant in Anguilla was one of the reasons I decided to check out the island. So it should not be a surprise that I made reservations well in advance of my arrival on the island.
My original plan had been to get my rental car in the morning (a taxi ride would have been at least forty dollars), find the place during the daylight, and then check out one of the beaches on that end of the island. However, today I am spending the majority of my day sitting on an airplane, wishing it were the beach.
By the time I land and reach the hotel, I realize that dinner is less than four hours away, and since my car isn't here waiting for me, chances are there will be no test run to Blanchards. Now I'm hoping I can leave early enough to at least drive there before the sun sets, even if I arrive a bit early.
But I've forgotten one key element. I'm now on island time, a concept I fully support much of the time I spend on an island. But I have a dinner to get to, and I want my car now! Maria, the owner, makes a call for me, and stresses the fact that I have dinner reservations and the car must be here by five pm. I'm thinking she has pull, they will listen to her, my car will arrive. I sit outside by the pool and wait, and wait, and wait. The phone rings at 5:45 and is answered by one of the guests. He comes out and asks my name...great news, he says, your car should be here by 6:30. What? My dinner reservations are for 7pm. It will take me at least 45 minutes to get there. I find the owner and start to lose it, I can't miss this dinner, I have been waiting for this dinner, I won't get reservations again for the time I'm here. She smiles, picks up the phone, and calls Blanchard's, telling them I will be there when I get there. I can gather they'd like a little more specific answer, but a "she'll be there by eight" is all they are going to get.
My car finally arrives and my next question is where is the person to take the car rental girl home? We fill out the paperwork, copies are made, money is exchanged, and yet no ride has appeared. My stomach is starting to sink. Am I the ride home? I can't be, I've rented cars before and someone else has always shown up when the car is delivered. We finally finish up, and I grab my directions Maurice has given me, along with my official road map of Anguilla. I head out to the car, and find the car rental lady sitting in the passenger seat. Ugh.
Don't get me wrong, I'm not against giving someone a ride. But not when my car has arrived late, I'm now late to dinner, and "home" is the opposite direction I need to going. Anguilla has one long road and then a big loop. I am at the bottom edge of the loop, and she has me drive around the entire loop to take her home. It is now getting dark, and I'm a little worried. The turn to Blanchard's isn't well marked, and other than passing a gas station and looking for a small sign on my right, I am on my own. Somehow I end up by the airport, and I most definately am not supposed to be on the airport road, I must have not navigated the last round a bout correctly. I head back toward the main road, dodging piles of dirt blocking a lane of the road. There seems to be no right of way, and I just pray that the cars will wait at the other end. I pull into a gas station, sure that I have missed my turn and any moment I will meet where the road ends and ocean begins. But no, it appears I haven't gone quite that far and the turning point should be just feet ahead. I pull back on the road, my foot is barely on the gas, and a line of traffic starts to form behind me. Suddenly I see a sign for a hotel that is near the restaurant, and I turn, and then finally I see it. I've arrived!
I've read both good and not so good reviews of the place, and I must say, tonight everything is working well. I am seated on the ground level, overlooking the beautiful garden behind the restaurant, and the music is quiet enough that I can still hear the waves of the ocean. I'm excited when Lowell comes over and introduces himself. I quickly tell him that I've read the book, and as corny as it sounds, feel like I know a little bit about him. He is rather concerned that I am eating by myself, and so he checks in with me rather frequently throughout the night, and I do not mind at all. He provides nice conversation throughout the evening and makes me feel more comfortable in a restaurant that has filled with couples.
I checked out the menu when I made the reservations, so making my dinner selection was rather simple. The jerk shrimp were wonderful, and the mashed sweet potatoes & fried plantains helped cut the heat of the jerk sauce. There is one thing in the back of my mind as I eat though. I still have to get home, and the return trip will be a slightly different route than I took to get here. Should I go now or enjoy the cracked coconut that has caught my eye on the menu? I finally realize the complete darkness that surrounds me is not going to change if I leave now or later, so I might as well stay. I'm glad I did. Cracked coconut is a dessert that is a coconut shaped bowl made from chocolate that is split into two halves, with toasted coconut completely coating the outside. Inside it is filled with cocount ice cream and topped with Kahlua sauce. Heavenly! Their cookbook is my souveneir from the vacation, and cracked coconut has become my new showstopper dessert.
The drive home was about as adventurous as the one down. Once again I ended up at the airport (don't ask me how!) and am quite sure I navigated the other roundabouts successfully. At least I eventually ended up back at the inn (but not before stopping to ask if I was headed in the right direction!). Now I just hope the rest of the trip can be a bit calmer!
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