Welcome to St. Eustatius

Flying into Statia tonight was absolutely picturesque. There was a volcano covered by clouds, a valley bay in the middle of the mountains, and a little town and strip of land in the middle. Welcome to Statia, said the Captain when we landed. After I watched one of the two pilots texting on his phone for the better half of the flight. Ya felt realllll safe. I almost reached over to tell him to cut it out, but then when I thought about my life being in his hands, I decided not to. This was the smallest flight I had been on aside from the tiny flights I took when I was in Belize. This time I was sitting directly behind one of the pilots, and I could see right into the cockpit.

After going through passport control, I was greeted on the other side by someone looking for Ms. Beavis. Turns out she was looking for me. She tells me she has the rental car for me but we can figure it out on Monday. I had no idea if she was from the hotel or from the car rental agency. She was a very hefty black woman with her hair covered by what looked like a hair net and heavy makeup on. She told me to follow her in a blue van, so I did; up the road where I passed about two cars and then down a steep curve with a fun looking restaurant on the corner, and finally to my hotel. Finally I mean as in, finally after a few minutes. Not like it took long.

I step inside and there is no one. I have to pee so I leave my things and go into an opening, welcome, bright bathroom. I go back out front and look again. No one, but a guy at the computer. A public one I assume. I ring the bell. Finally, someone painstakingly comes walking over from across the street. She says nothing. “Hi.” “Hi, do you need something?” “Yes, I just got here, I am checking in.” “You are? Who is your agent.” Silence. “you’re agent”. “You mean my travel agent?” “What is your company name.” “It’s AIRINC….” She checks her documents, and there I was. It seemed like I bothered her from something very important, just as everyone in St. Maarten seemed. She hands me a key and I follow her around the corner while she points in the general direction of my room. She didn’t ask for my passport, didn’t ask for credit card pre-authorization, hell for all the rest of the staff there knows I never even showed up. Strange.

Now I’m in this room living amongst a few really annoying mosquitos and whatever else can make its’ way under my door. But it’s not so bad. The restaurant at the hotel was closed tonight so I went across the way to another hotel for a meal. There I met a curious waitress named Sofia who was very interested in my “studying” and visiting the United States. I would too if I grew up in a place like this. Liking Statia, we will see what tomorrow brings.