My Take on Curaçao

Worth a return visit?  Yes.

Would I live there? Yes, as long as it was in or near Willemstad. On a livability scale of 1 to 5, I'd give it a 3.5.

The People: Maybe it was a fluke, but we didn't meet a single surly person there.  Everyone was kind, friendly and helpful. Every single one.

The Country:  If you expect a tropical rainforest you'll be sorely disappointed.  Most of what you'll see will be cacti and other plants suitable for xeriscaping because Curaçao gets only about 570 mm (22 inches) of rain a year.  This little tidbit has totally destroyed my long-held assumption that all Caribbean islands are lush gardens. The up side of this is that you'll likely have clear skies every day and plenty of opportunities to work on your tan and enjoy its many beautiful white sand beaches.

If you're a photographer, Willemstad won't disappoint with its distinctive bridges, colorful historical buildings and cobbled pedestrian streets.  You can sit at a waterfront bar and enjoy a cocktail while you shoot the ships that pass by.

Judging from our short snorkeling excursion the diving in that clear azure water must be spectacular, just as the brochures promise.

The Food:  Plenty of cuisines to choose from, both spicy and not.  Seafood lovers won't be disappointed. Unfortunately, not all chefs are created equal.

What I loved:  The sunny climate.  The colorful buildings.  The Dutch architecture.  The cobbled streets. The pontoon bridge.  The people are incredibly friendly.  Hearing them switch easily from one language to another.  Snorkeling in the clear water and seeing all the tropical fish.

What I didn't like: The country relies on desalinization for its water supply.  Being sick for half of my time there.

Thoughts:  I was totally amazed by the ease with which everyone switched from one language to another, not to mention the more remarkable fact that they are fluent in four languages.  Americans need to check their We're #1 arrogance at the airport.

Curaçao, part 2

Dan and I awoke late, to discover that we both felt poorly. We had no energy to do anything more than go downstairs to the hotel restaurant for breakfast. As we sat at the table we realized that we never rest when we travel; most of our time is spent out and about with our cameras. Today, however, we didn't want to go anywhere. Perhaps tomorrow we would get back to our normal routine and squeeze in a bit more sightseeing before our plane left.

By the time our meal was over all the lounge chairs on the white sand beach were occupied. The infinity-edge, free-form pool still had spots available though, so we plopped down under an umbrella with our books. As usual, speed reader me finished quickly. I went to the gift shop to find another book and was shocked to see that the books were all $15 and up. (What do I know? I always go to the library.) When I came back empty-handed Dan chided me and said, "buy it anyway, you need something to read." So back I went, found a book and charged it to the room. I made small talk with the saleslady, telling her Dan had made me come back. She laughed, "I want to meet that man and shake his hand."

I hadn't noticed before, but when I returned Dan pointed out a couple of older women who were sunbathing topless and asked if it was not a big deal on the island. "Search me," I said, "I burn too easily to even contemplate such a thing." We took a dip in the pool to cool off -- wearing our bathing suits -- before laying down again and were soon lulled to sleep by the sun and our Sansa Fuze mp3 players.

When we awoke we carried our snorkeling gear down to the water's edge and donned it. We swam out to a pier and looked at all the fish, some of which we'd had in our saltwater aquarium back in Florida. After about 20 minutes in the water we realized we just didn't have the energy to continue safely so we dragged ourselves out of the water to return to our chairs and take a long nap.

Note to self: If all the beach chairs are occupied in the morning, you can often find an empty one when all the beach-goers have gone to look for something to lunch on.

Dan and I dropped our accoutrements on two of the beach's unoccupied lounge chairs and found a cafe table close enough to keep an eye on our belongings. There was little on the menu to choose from but the chicken fingers and beer we finally ordered put us in the mood for another nap. I can't remember the last time I'd slept as much. I awoke only when I needed to reposition my lounge chair into the shade cast by the thatched umbrella.

Later Dan and I moseyed over to the tiki bar and claimed seats at the bar in full view of the wide-screen TV so we could watch the Super Bowl. We thought of Dan's family back in Florida who are rabid Steeler fans. Today was a High Religious Holiday for them. Two drinks and a dinner later, when we realized that the Packers were going to trounce the Steelers, we decided to call it a night and went back to our room.


This was the first time we did nothing for an entire day when we were away from home, but it was a day well-spent nonetheless.

Curaçao, part 1

Curacao lies in the southern Caribbean between Aruba and Bonaire, just above Venezuela.

Dan and I arrived in Curaçao's small, open-air airport with a single carry-on suitcase and a dive bag of snorkeling gear. I was really glad that we didn't have a lot of baggage as I wasn't feeling well; I'd awoken that morning with a sore throat. Fortunately, it was a nice flight and I slept much of the way. It was our first experience on DAE; our seats were roomy and as the flight wasn't full we were able to spread into the center seat.

We grabbed a taxi and rode 30 minutes across the island to the Hilton. The arid landscape was a sharp contrast to the lush rainforest in which we live and we learned that the island gets its fresh water from a desalinization plant. When I asked about the oil refinery we passed the taxi driver told me that much of Curaçao's income and employment comes from the oil industry because it is so close to Venezuela and has a deep-water harbor. (And in case you were wondering, he pronounced it Koo-ra-sow, not Cure-a-sow or Ca-ra-ko.)

Our plane arrived so early that our room wasn't ready. The concierge locked up our bags and we had a leisurely lunch in the open-air restaurant. As soon as we could check in dropped our bags in the room and made our way to Willemstad, cameras in hand. We knew from YouTube that Willemstad boasts traditional Dutch facades on many of its historical buildings, and we were eager to explore it.

As the story goes, in 1817 Governor-general Albert Kikkert complained that the glare from the buildings was giving him headaches and decreed that buildings should be painted any color other than white. What resulted was a multitude of beautiful pastel colors that still adorn the capital city's buildings and beg to be photographed by tourists like us. As we wandered around marveling at the architecture I noticed that even buildings in the back streets enjoy the same stunning colors.

Two bridges span the water, the beautiful Queen Juliana bridge, one of the highest bridges in the world, and the Queen Emma pontoon bridge. Dan and I were fascinated by the pontoon bridge, a wooden pedestrian bridge supported by 16 floating pontoons. When a ship needs to pass, two motors swing the bridge open from one side. (Here you can see the pontoon bridge opening and the Queen Juliana bridge in the background.) If the bell rings when pedestrians are on the bridge, they have to run to make it across before it opens. Woe to those who don't move quickly enough; they'll have to ride it out and wait until it closes to finish their journey.

Willemstad lies on both sides of the water and there are plenty of pedestrian-friendly streets to meander down. We came across an open-air market and enjoyed looking at all the fresh foods and souvenirs. When I translated a French souvenir to Dan the proprietress began conversing in French. During our brief conversation I learned that, although the island's official language is Dutch, most natives speak four fluently: Dutch, English, Spanish and Papamiento, the local dialect. That's really impressive. Most Americans can only speak English.

To avoid ruining my holiday I finally surrendered to taking decongestant and Dan stopped at an ATM for Antilles Guilders so I could buy some. Money in hand, we found a corner pharmacy. While he remained outside with his camera, I entered and approached the pharmacist. She recommended Claritin and asked how many pills I wanted. As in Panama and Indonesia, medications are sold by the tablet, not by the box. How different from America.

Back outside, we walked back to the waterfront and walked to an open-air cafe where a live band was playing. We ordered drinks and watched the people and boats pass by as the workday drew to a close.

Finally we decided to find a restaurant. Curaçao's full of immigrants and its foods are a melange of foods such as Dutch bitterballen and rijstaffel, Latino empana and Antillean criyoyo (as in criollo). Indonesian dishes such as nasi goreng and satay are also popular but -- been there, done that -- I'd had enough of those when we were on Bali last fall and they didn't appeal to me. We like to try local dishes, anyway. Any island is bound to have fresh seafood so Dan ordered a delicious criyoyo sea bass. Because my tongue doesn't like hot peppers I ordered a local dish, called keshi yena. Keshi yena means 'stuffed cheese' but is traditionally made with chicken, vegetables, seasonings and raisins. Unfortunately their version was so salty that I couldn't eat it. The waiter offered me a dessert on the house. I guess the chef finally tried it and agreed with me.

Back to the hotel we went. We enjoyed a drink at the tiki bar before retiring for the night.

P.S. After Governor-general Kikkert's tour of duty ended, the citizens discovered that he'd had a financial interest in the paint company.

Renewing our visas

Many expats here in Panama are on tourist visas, which means they can only stay in the country for 90 days. If they want to stay longer they have to leave and then re-enter on an endless 90-day cycle. Since our tourist visas expire on February 9, we've been on the lookout for affordable places to go.

Maybe it wasn't from God, but a sign suddenly popped up near our apartment advertising a new airline flying to our Tocumen International Airport. Just in time for our needs DAE (Dutch Antilles Express) had a special promo: $98 one-way to all its destinations, including its hub in Curacao. Perfect. Neither of us had ever been there, so it would be an adventure.

Dan's heavy work schedule (60+ hours/week) made it seem impossible, but nevertheless we had to go. We decided to go for two nights the first weekend in February -- which was cutting it close -- and Dan went online to book the tickets while I googled "Curacao hotels."

When he went to pay he discovered the small print: DAE charges $11 if you want to use a credit card. Oh, well, it'll cover their fees. Tickets: Check.

True to form, I found an absolutely stunning hotel that was out of our price range. The Curacao Hilton's white sandy beach laid between stunning rock formations that would most likely be perfect for snorkeling and fish-watching. It had acres of manicured grounds to wander and a large freeform, infinity-edge pool. Plus the beach had Tiki spots under which we could park our lounge chairs, Dan in the sun and I in the shade. I pictured a waiter bringing us nice, cold blue cocktails (gotta have a drink with blue Curacao while we're there, right?), swaying palm trees, tropical music, tiki bar nearby, an expanse of blue Caribbean water, the sound of the waves....

But not for $200 a night. We'd forgotten that it was high tourist season in the Caribbean.

Since that was out, we opted for our usual Plan B: Hotwire. On this hotel booking website you narrow the selection down by general area, amenities, star rating and price, select one of the nameless options and pay, and then find out where you are staying afterward. (Small print: It's not refundable or changeable.) Dan selected a four-star hotel for $120 a night, plugged in the payment information, and we waited to see which hotel would enjoy our smiling faces.

Imagine our surprise when we discovered that we'd be staying at the Hilton after all!