I was psyched to be here. Though I had no idea what a week I was going to be in for. There was before Jenn and after Jenn. I’ll start with the mild stuff.
First, I checked in to customs and told them what I was doing here. The lady was skeptical of my intentions and called over her supervisor to make sure it was OK that I was here. Totally laid back, as they are in the islands, her supervisor seemed uncertain of why she was doubting my intentions. Nah I think it’s fine. What kind of harm can that do? So down came the stamp and like that I was in paradise. Good thing I told the honest truth, cause a few days later on the small island in a nearly deserted grocery store I found her in one of the aisles where she expressed how she caught me in action. “Oh hi it’s you” she said; it took me a moment before I recognized her and then I proceeded to rethink to make sure I told her all the truth. This was another one of those moments where I could say thank goodness!
After receiving my stamp, I picked up my tiny box dihatsu which would be crunch chips if it ever got into a car accident (literally I kinda felt like Fred Flinstone), popped on the radio and jammed to some reggae as I drove down the only main road on the island. I felt like I had arrived at a tropical island, for sure. Sand littered the street on both far sides, and I didn’t pass one traffic light. All round-abouts only. I soon found out that only 37,000 people lived on the chain islands that make up Turks and Caicos. This was such a beach town. A small, sandy quaint beach town. I later found out the first commercial airport in the country didn’t open until 1995. I loved it before evening getting to the hotel.
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