Our �adventure� started shortly after my husband, Ray, and I checked in at the Buena Vista Hotel, located on Delancy Street in a residential area of Old Nassau. It was early on a Saturday afternoon, we had not yet had lunch, and we knew the shops would be closing in a few hours. So, with eating and shopping on our minds, we set off down West Street, past St. Francis Xavier Cathedral, to downtown Nassau�s main thoroughfare, Bay Street. Throngs of people were clogging the sidewalks, in part because local artists and artisans were having a sidewalk art fair. The other reason for the crowds was that four cruise ships were docked at Nassau�s Prince George Wharf.
As we snaked our way down the street, we peeked through the windows and doors of a seemingly endless row of shops to survey the shelves of liquor, displays of gemstones and gold jewelry, and racks of T-shirts and brightly colored clothing. (One shop even offered �Free Ear Piercing While You Wait.� And if you couldn�t wait�?) Most shops were jammed with tourists, so we decided not to stop until we came to an area that was less congested. We continued on for several blocks, past the Straw Market and Rawson Square, and still there were clusters of people in front of and inside nearly all the shops.
All of our walking and the midday heat prompted a stop in one of the shops�not for imported liquor, but for bottles of water. When we asked for a tip about where to have lunch, a young woman working in the shop suggested a restaurant in one of the shopping arcades along Bay Street. We found the small caf� easily and ordered a lunch of snapper, peas and rice, potato salad, and corn. We quickly devoured the huge servings and our bottles of water, and soon we were ready to resume our trek through town.
Back on Bay Street, we saw the Paradise Island Bridge looming ahead of us, and since it didn�t appear to be far away, we decided to continue walking in that direction. We never lost sight of the high arch of the bridge, but the more we walked, the less progress we seemed to be making toward our destination. After fifteen or twenty minutes of maneuvering our way down a row of fractured sidewalks and crumbling pavement, farther and farther from the bustling shopping district, we finally came to the busy intersection of Bay and Mackey streets. We were nearly two miles from our starting point at the hotel, but at last, the bridge was squarely in front of us.
Beneath the bridge is an area called Potters Cay, where you can roam among a variety of small stands selling fresh conch, fish, fruits, and vegetables. We observed expert hands extracting the meat from conch shells, dicing it into tiny pieces, and mixing it with chopped vegetables. Since we had just eaten lunch, we watched but did not sample this time, despite the fact that the concoctions looked quite appealing.
A traffic jam of cars on the Paradise Island Bridge had everyone at a standstill and radios blared loudly from the cars waiting to advance, but the pedestrian walkways on both sides of the roadway were wide open. This bridge arches high over Nassau Harbor, linking Nassau on New Providence Island with its nearest neighbor, Paradise Island. Crossing the bridge on foot feels more like a hike up a San Francisco hill, but the reward is that at the top, there is a wonderful view of the harbor, Nassau, and Paradise Island. The other bonus is that the rest of the way across the bridge is all downhill!
Paradise Island looks like its name. Lushly landscaped with greenery and brilliantly blooming flowers, it is attractive and inviting. (With this image in mind, we should all be glad the island�s name was changed from its original moniker, Hog Island, which was fitting when the 650-acre island was just a pig farm. Development on the island was undertaken in the 1960s by Huntington Hartford, an American millionaire, and the island�s name was changed when the Paradise Island Bridge was completed in 1962.)
We strolled toward the sprawling Atlantis Paradise Island, one of the largest resort-casino complexes in the world. Entering the spacious lobby, we stopped to check a map of the facilities, quickly finding what we were looking for. We walked down a long corridor (lined with still more shops) toward the casino, which operates from morning �til well past midnight. The chiming and clanging of the slot machines welcomed us as we reached into our pockets for quarters. We set a limit to the amount of money we would allow ourselves to �spend� in the casino, and when that limit had been reached, we would depart. Our stay in the casino was brief.
After our casino experience, we headed outdoors. The 14-acre grounds of the Atlantis are lavishly designed with paths through tropical vegetation, waterfalls, a snorkeling lagoon, waterslides, and enough activities to keep visitors occupied for days. Around every turn, we came upon guests reveling and relaxing in the resort�s version of Fantasy Island.
Earlier we had seen a sign that listed the water-taxi schedule between Paradise Island and Nassau, and we knew that the last water taxi back to Nassau would be leaving soon. While the walk to Paradise Island had been invigorating, I was not up to a reprise, so we hustled down to the dock and claimed seats on the upper level of the water taxi. The sun was starting to set, spreading a golden and rosy glow over the harbor, and we savored the scenery on the short ride. As we approached Nassau, the four cruise ships appeared as gargantuan, towering edifices at the dock. We ogled the ships and watched as people bearing shopping bags and cardboard liquor carriers slowly made their way back to their floating hotels.
The streets of Nassau were not as bustling now, and our steps were not as brisk as we retraced the route we had taken a few hours before. We stopped in some of the shops that we had bypassed, made a few purchases, and were entreated to step deeper into the Straw Market to admire the piles and piles of items. Baskets, bags, hats, placemats, boxes�anything made of straw could be found here. While we were properly impressed with the array of choices, our feet were telling us it was time to move on. As we walked away from the Straw Market, a small eatery called Conch Fritters Bar & Grill caught our eye, and we had a light dinner of conch chowder and a green salad before heading back to our hotel.
Walking up West Street was not as much fun as walking down had been, but the sound of singing that wafted from the open windows of St. Francis Xavier Cathedral drew us onward. We paused outside the church to admire the handsome cathedral, built in 1885, and to enjoy the evening hymns. And as we approached the Buena Vista, we took a closer look at the hostel we had so quickly checked into earlier in the day.
Located on a three-acre lot, this 200-year-old house is best known for being home to the highly acclaimed Buena Vista Restaurant. Both the house and the wall that surrounds the grounds are painted a bright salmon pink. The long driveway leading to the house is lined with trees, shrubbery, and colorful flowers, and the verandah at the front of the house offers chairs for weary visitors. Weary we were, but we headed straight through the lobby and up the stairs to the Jasmine Room, which was ours for the night. (All five guest rooms are named for flowers. The other four are Bougainvilla, Poinciana, Oleander, and Jacaranda.) Our large, high-ceilinged room made me feel like I was spending the night at the home of an elderly relative, stopping by for an evening on the way to a distant destination. Dust on the window sills, floors that creak with each step you take, and a little table in the corner with cups and saucers�cozy but perhaps infrequently used. After a cup of tea, we fell into a sound sleep and didn�t wake until nearly ten hours later.
The next morning, we headed out again to explore some areas of town that we had missed the day before. On this Sunday, most places were closed and many local residents were at church as we walked down West Hill Street to Duke Street, passing the pink 1801 Government House with the statue of Christopher Columbus in front. The date �1492� was etched on the base of the statue, and I immediately felt a kinship with these islands that were visited by Columbus on his first trans-Atlantic voyage when he discovered our New World.
The Spaniards held the islands in name only following Columbus� visit, and the Bahamas became a British colony in 1629. Piracy was the main activity on the islands for many years, and there were even brief interludes when the U. S. Navy held the islands (for a few days in 1776) and when Spain regained control for nearly a year (1782-83). The islands had only sporadic periods of prosperity over the next years until the tourist industry grew following World War II. The Bahamas gained their independence in 1973, and the government is based in this pretty pink building in the capital city of Nassau.
Continuing on down Shirley Street, we passed the Nassau Library, which is housed in an old jail building. Just a short walk away is the Queen�s Staircase, 66 steep steps (one for each year of Queen Victoria�s reign) carved out of sandstone next to a waterfall. And at the top of the steps are the 18th-century Fort Fincastle and the Water Tower, both of which offer expansive views of Nassau from the highest point on the island.
We ambled back toward the harbor, and on this bright December day, crews were busy putting Christmas decorations on street lamps in the downtown area. At Rawson Square, a radio station was blasting music from the loud speakers of its van, and some tourists were milling around the square. A few shops were open, but the town was much quieter than it had been the day before. Dare we admit that we stopped at a Dunkin� Donuts for breakfast? Would the fact that we had guava-filled donuts and quesitos redeem us for the moment of touristic weakness?
On our final hike up West Street, rain was threatening. By the time we reached our landmark, the St. Francis Xavier Cathedral, large raindrops began to fall. We jogged past the church as workers rushed to close the large wooden shutters, and we arrived back at the Buena Vista just as the rain became a downpour. We had not seen or heard anyone else at the hotel since the previous evening, but now there was a gentleman sitting on the verandah, awaiting our return. We asked about the hotel�s check-out time, and he said it was whenever we were ready to leave.
It had been a jam-packed 24 hours, but we were scheduled to move to a hotel on Cable Beach, so we gathered our belongings and called a cab to take us to our next stop.
We spent the next two days ensconced in a modern, high-rise hotel on Cable Beach, about three miles west of Old Nassau. The view of the ocean from our window was spectacular and the white-sand beach provided us with hours of lazy contentment. When we were in the mood for some entertainment, the casino was just an elevator ride away. When it was time to eat, Johnny Canoe�s hamburgers and guava duff were just a short walk down the street. And when we chose to buy some local trinkets, the mini-Straw Market across the street had just what we wanted.
The flavor and history of Old Nassau did not extend to Cable Beach, but the Buena Vista did not have an ocean view or a beach. All in all, we left Nassau feeling like we had experienced the best of both worlds in the Bahamas during our short stay.
1997
G. Berg
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