Spendthrift Shoestring

To Port Antonio

Sunday before last I flew to Montego Bay from Grand Cayman via Kingston. Notable airport highlights included sighting tins of Irish Moss for sale at the Kingston Airport and being offered marijuana by a security guard at the urinal in the bathroom just beyond customs at the Montego Bay Airport. The latter, with its in-airport resort welcome centers and solicitous customer service personnel, felt a bit unreal.

I met Marisa and Evan outside of the arrivals area at the Montego Bay Airport and we drove off to Port Antonio. Our rental car lurched and groaned and squeaked for five hours, across buckled and potholed roads. We ran into detours as well, thanks to a very wet last few months in Jamaica. Happily, Evan was an able demon at the wheel. The closer we got to Port Antonio, the lusher and more beautiful the landscape became. We stopped along the way only once, visiting a roadside restaurant and purchasing cups of fish soup for J$60 (85 cents) apiece.

By the time we arrived at Hotel Mocking Bird Hill in the hills just beyond Port Antonio, we were tired and hungry, and dusk was only an hour away.

More on wonderful Mocking Bird Hill and the exciting Port Antonio area next.

Feudalist Fantasies

I've got loads of impressions of Jamaica to post shortly but today is such a busy one that I'm not going to manage to get any of them out.

In their place, I'll share my excitement about easyJet's new London Luton-Jersey route. I've been advance-planning a Channel Islands tour for a while now, a hop between Jersey, Guernsey, and Sark. The main attraction here is Sark, a place I like to think of as a feudal state with a heart of gold, only now phasing in a democratic system. My friend Ellis once suggested that we visit Sark together; seeing her this past weekend is surely feeding today's obsession.

There are a few low-cost air routes to the Channel Islands from London now. Flybe flies to Guernsey and Jersey, and from next spring, easyJet will join the party.

Standardized and without Context: Grand Cayman

I've never visited any place in the Caribbean like Grand Cayman. I kept failing to recall my whereabouts. Was I actually in some odd town in Florida where people drive on the left side of the road? It sure felt like it. Strip malls are plentiful and then there's the whole decontextualized Caribbeanish nine yards: a Señor Frogs bar, a Hard Rock Cafe. I found some interesting things along the way, but it took a little effort to sort through what felt like the suburban American seaside.

If the Editorial/Opinion page of last weekend's edition of Cayman Net News is anything to go by, similar thoughts are on the minds of many Caymanians. The issue's editorial, a local commentary piece, and two letters to the editor were all devoted to the state of Grand Cayman as a tourist attraction. The editorial lamented the fall in tourist numbers into the Cayman Islands, pondered how the credit crisis in the United States would affect tourism, and noted that several other Caribbean territories are becoming savvier in their marketing efforts, wondering out loud what the Caymans are doing to keep up.

The most interesting article of the lot was provided by a "local commentary" column by Dr. Frank McField, a former Minister of Housing, who framed his inquiry around the question of how the territory can appeal to European tourists. He wrote:

The expectations most Europeans will have of the Cayman Islands is more of what we were in the 1970s and 80s, before we lost the mangoes and coco plum bush to the pre-high rise condominiums. When this group travels they expect to find something they don't have at home, unlike Americans who are mostly looking for duplications of American society and products.

Look at the number of fast food restaurants on the Seven Mile Beach Road; this is partly the result of catering solely to American visitors. Cayman was warned many decades go that, if all things Caymanian were eliminated, we ran the risk of destroying the uniqueness of our island society. This would then adversely impact tourism.

McField depressingly hits the bullseye. Many American tourists in the Caribbean are looking for familiarity above all else. His argument that the strategy of importing the standardized suburban US experience does not represent a sustainable approach is compelling. This strategy eviscerates local distinctiveness in favor of retail products and sensations that feel as if they come from nowhere. McField goes on to question the existence of a "unique Caymanian tourism product based on things Caymanian." Harsh, but again, on-target.

Sure, Seven Mile Beach is lovely, but it's so crowded with hotels and condos that its appeals are necessarily limited. What I enjoyed most about Grand Cayman were the things that are not part of the tourism profile of the island: the sight of a Cayman Islands flag flapping in the wind above bungalows on a side street; chickens pecking their way through a yard; the high foreign population; the cute little houses; roadside cemetery plots. The above fragments make the George Town area distinctive. They're downright interesting and resolutely local.   

Even Americans are beginning to look for more local, less standardized travel experiences. Look at the editorial move at Travel + Leisure toward more "authentic" dimensions of destinations. Look also at environmental concerns, which are prompting tourists to move away from all-inclusive excess and toward more thoughtful kinds of accommodation and transportation. These trends are not incidental developments; I'd bet money that they're here to stay. The question is, do they matter to a place like the Cayman Islands? Even if US tourist habits change seriously, Grand Cayman's sanitized appeal is unlikely to vaporize entirely.

Here's a different question: Is it too late to develop a tourist infrastructure in the Caymans that is not about lowest-common-denominator standardization? Is there even a market for a more rustic experience on Grand Cayman? If it's not too late to do so and a market exists, then the Caymans badly need to figure out a rebranding strategy. Extolling the less glitzy virtues of the eastern side of Grand Cayman, Little Cayman, and Cayman Brac might be one way to do that.

How to Spend under $150 a Day on Grand Cayman

I was so excited to write an ode to pennypinching on Grand Cayman, one of the Caribbean's dearest spots. There's nothing I like more than turning conventional travel wisdom on its head by demonstrating how a supposedly expensive place can actually turn out to be budget-friendly.

Three nights on Grand Cayman dampened my enthusiasm for such a post. It is indeed possible for a solo traveler to spend around $150 a day there, but such a budget leaves precious little room for splurges and little surprises.

Be that as it may, here's my four-step guide to enjoying Grand Cayman on under $150 a day.

1. Stay at Eldemire's Tropical Island Inn south of George Town. About a 20 minute walk from the southern edge of the capital, it's nestled in a residential neighborhood of mostly low-lying houses. Rooms are simple and the house itself feels down-at-heel in a comfortable, tropical way. There's a gospel shop on the ground floor and a tiny pool on the premises. I paid $103.50 per night for my air-conditioned en suite room with a television. I'm fairly sure that Eldemire's is the cheapest hotel within striking distance of George Town.

2. Walk everywhere. In many places, there are no sidewalks, so you'll need to walk on the right side of the road, facing oncoming traffic. Taxis should only be utilized for transportation to and from the airport.

3. Squat. Beaches may be public, but they're colonized by hotels, and lounge chair use is restricted to guests. The only option for a true shoestringer is to assume entitlement and squat. I was lucky to find an abandoned picnic table near a building site (Grand Cayman is in a state of construction frenzy) on Seven Mile Beach, where I was able to swim and finish my Michael Connelly masterpiece in seclusion.

4. Most importantly, avoid tourist restaurants. Corita's Copper Kettle on Edward Street filled me up twice for CI$8 ($10), once for breakfast and once for lunch. Breakfast was the star meal. I had a frankly delicious fritter sandwich of egg, sausage, and jelly. Also good: Chicken! Chicken!, in the West Shore Centre on West Bay Road north of George Town, where my jerk chicken and jicama cole slaw was perfectly balanced with a Ting, and ran about CI$12 ($16). Another find was Champion House II, on Eastern Avenue just north of  Shedden Road, where my curried snapper with all the fixings plus a beer cost under CI$15 (under $19). (Champion House is quite some distance into George Town, and I was the only tourist on the streets. For a few minutes there, with people congregating in the streets and the odd bit of Spanish wafting through the air, things no longer felt like stripmall suburbia.)

These suggestions aside, the question emerges: Is it worthwhile for serious budget travelers to spend time on Grand Cayman? I'm inclined to say no. It's possible, and even fun in a shoestringer challenge sort of way, to get by on a strict budget. But for most travelers, having to walk miles every day under the tropical sun in order to avoid spending over $200 a day isn't the sweetest prospect. It makes more sense to let your money stretch on a more budget-friendly island.

A Few Days Away

Tomorrow, I'm off to the Caribbean; I'll return next Wednesday evening. I've decided not to take my laptop, so posts will be few and far between until the end of next week.

No Telephone To Heaven

A few weeks ago, in preparation for my short trip to Jamaica, I buried myself in Michelle Cliff's No Telephone to Heaven. I've had a beautiful hardcover copy on my bookshelf for years, which I believe I bought second-hand at Powell's in Portland a good decade or so ago.

I remember having read the book, yet once I worked my way through it, in the midst of the worst cold I've had in years no less, it was as if I'd just read it for the first time. Michelle Cliff is such an amazing writer, so clear and raw and focused.

No Telephone to Heaven is a heartbreaking and enthralling book. I'd recommend it broadly, especially to repeat visitors to the Caribbean.

Grand Cayman Agenda: Island Grub & Beach

I'm headed to Grand Cayman on Thursday, which I'll follow up with three nights in Jamaica.

My sister has a wedding this weekend in Montego Bay. I didn't need much of a nudge to accept her call to join her there following the wedding, but the thought of tagging along in Montego Bay as a wedding nonguest struck me as quite unappealing. I played around with my dates and came up with a bit of a counterintuitive itinerary for myself: three days on Grand Cayman, followed by three in Port Antonio, Jamaica, a spot that's been on my radar for a while now, not least because my friend Karen's mother hails from there. More on Port Antonio later.

Grand Cayman is not the sort of Caribbean island that usually compels me. It's super Americanized, very expensive, and full of lavish resorts. In my book, none of these characteristics are selling points. I love spending time in the Caribbean. The region's hybrid cultures, creole tongues, cuisines, ruins, forests, hiking trails, colonial and modern architecture, museums, and supermarket goods all drive me to return, as do thoughts of idle days spent between the water and the beach.

The spots in the region that have blown me away (the eastern end of Tobago; Port of Spain; Anegada in the British Virgin Islands; Mayreau; Caye Caulker; Culebra; and above all Saba) are mostly places where resorts are few and far between. They're backwaters, or quiet spots away from pampering-focused tourists, or, in the case of Port of Spain at least, a gritty and fascinating capital city.

None of this is to say that Grand Cayman won't be exciting and interesting once I'm on the ground. Last autumn I visited Aruba, which has followed a similar form of tourist development to Grand Cayman. I had a great time, largely thanks to Eugene and Toby, the instant maatjes I made there, not to mention my daylong Aruba Nature Sensitive Hikers tour with Eddy Croes.

There's always something interesting to do in the most touristy of places, and in fact sheer touristiness itself can be fun to explore and dissect. On Grand Cayman, I'm staying at a small guesthouse, a place that rents bicycles. The plan is simple. I intend to sample George Town's humbler cafes and restaurants (roti, yes! turtle soup, yes!) and curl up on a stretch of strand or two, for three days.

And, following, a riot of culture, cuisine, and nature in Jamaica.

The Incidental Guesthouse

One current obsession is with the incidental guesthouse—the sort of property that offers a few rooms upstairs or in an annex, a literal sideline to the main business at hand.

A few weeks ago I spent four nights with my friend Paul at Frédéric in Amsterdam. Frédéric is a bike rental agency that also includes three very simple rooms in its hinter zone. So for €30 per person per night, we had a prime spot on Brouwersgracht, close to Centraal Station in the western Grachtengordel.

Last year in Bratislava I visited Pension Carabic for EuroCheapo. It’s a very plain guesthouse, a series of rooms above a restaurant. At the time, the proprietor who showed me around was really apologetic about the state of the rooms, promising a renovation. (It's been over a year now since my visit, and it's possible that these rooms have been renovated in line with the much more stylish restaurant downstairs.) The rooms were, of course, perfectly fine. Quite bare bones, they benefited from a quiet location just down the river from Bratislava's Old Town. Last summer, a single room at Carabic was SKK 950 (€29; $42).

And another, one I've not yet visited, in Gent: De Brooderie, a set of three rooms above a bakery. A single room at De Brooderie (breakfast included) runs €40; a double runs €60. The prospect of waking up to the morning smells of a bakery is plainly wonderful; the thought of being able to head downstairs for a bakery breakfast makes me want to detour to Gent the next time I'm within a 250km radius.

Incidental guesthouses offer insights into place and culture that many hotels, due to their objective of standardization or their chain-established idiom, do not. They're low on amenities and high on character, and they're often seriously budget-friendly.

Introducing Spendthrift Shoestring

I'm a travel writer and editor based in New York. I've written for magazines, newspapers, and Web sites.

After writing for other blogs for some time, I recently decided that it was time to set up a blog of my own. In addition to showcasing my published writing here, I'll write about places, travel news, consumer items, and sensations--whatever strikes me as interesting. The goal, of course, is that this blog will serve as a home for the emergence of my own travel aesthetic.

So welcome. And yeehaw.