The Dudes Are Alright

I’m on vacation in Anguilla for the second year in a row.  Things of note include discovering that when you mix a strawberry daiquiri with frozen piña colada, you get something called a Miami Vice (I admit to drinking one out of sheer curiosity and finding it pretty awesome), reading The Tiger’s Wife by Téa Obrhet along with two P.G Wodehouse novels, and wearing a white straw fedora with a band made from a Hawaiian shirt.  I also tried to say hi to Roman Abramovich, but unfortunately he’s the 53rd richest person in the world, and has bodyguards the size of polar bears. 

Foodwise, I’ve spent two afternoons eating lunch at Jacala on the Meads Bay section of the island.  Both times I ordered the tuna carpaccio as an appetizer, and yesterday I ate the handmade beef tartare, which was prepared right in front of me, and totally fantastic.  

There’s a lack of nightlife on the island, which is actually alright by me.  We stopped in to Viceory, the most contemporary resort, for a nightcap.  Unfortunately it ended up feeling more like a Meatpacking District club with the addition of underage tourists thrown into the mix.  I’ve seen an alarming number of guys with tattoos over their bellies, and assorted folks who I may or may not have gone to JCC summer camp with.  Other than that, people mostly keep to themselves.

Normally I’m uncomfortable with the whole quiet relaxation thing, but it’s easy to lose yourself here.  There’s no hustle, no bustle, the fish is unbelievable, and there’s a serious lack of corporate logos on the entire island.  It’s not exactly the old world, but there’s something about Anguilla that I’m not entirely used to, and that might be what makes me love it so much.  Obviously I miss my cats and my apartment in New York, but this is really my favorite true vacation destination thanks to the fact that there is really nothing to do other than chill out. 

Now I need to start budgeting myself for the Duty Free in St. Martin before I go back home.