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54b's Trip Recap (Day 7) - Fighting the Last Day Blues
54b's Trip Recap (Day 7) - Fighting the Last Day Blues
A little random, but I finally finished my Trip Recap from last June while planning my trip for this June (woohoo). Anyway, it's ridiculously long and there are no pictures, but if you have minute or twenty, I'm sure those of you have been to STJ can relate.
And I'd love to read how you fight the Last Day Blues in the comments below.
Hope you enjoy,
54b
Saturday, June 13 (Last Full Day) - Once More Unto The Beach, Dear Friends, Once More
Using my own unique way of explaining life through beer colored goggles, I’d say the last full day of a vacation feels a lot like the moment right after the bartender yells, “LAST CALL!”
Even after the harbinger of buzz kills makes that unwelcomed announcement, most of us are still happy because we know there’s at least some time left on the clock to rock. But a few of our brain cells – the ones we didn’t manage to kill drinking – register foreboding blips on our emotional radar warning our fragile psyches that the end is near and nothing’s waiting for us on the other side of tomorrow but a long, soul-sucking journey straight back to reality.
And it’s times like these when even the most enthusiastic traveler amongst us could use a little inspiration. So hear this, “LAST CALL FOR ST. JOHN Y’ALL,” time to get busy Limin’ or get busy leavin’.
5ish am – Dreaming of quitting our jobs, selling our house, and chucking it all to move to St. John permanently in a feeble attempt to avoid waking up to the fact that today is our last full day on the island…okay, actually, that was my wife’s dream. I was having that nightmare where you’re running late for a big test at school and you walk into class naked holding a jar of peanut butter…perhaps I have shared too much and half of you are thanking your lucky stars this trip report doesn’t contain pictures.
6:59.59am – Plugging iPod into speaker, turning the volume to “wake to the #*$& up,” and cueing song mix entitled, “Carpe the Diem!”
7:00.00am – “Over? Did you say ‘over’? This vacation isn’t over until we decide it is. Was it over when the Germans bombed Pearl Harbor? (Germans? Forget it, I’m rolling). Was it over when they said no beer bottles on the beaches? Was it over when I barfed up my spleen walking back up the Reef Bay Trail? Was it over when the National Park rangers said clothing was no longer optional on Saloman?
Hell no! And it ain’t over now. Cause when the limin’ gets tough…the tough get limin’. Are you with me? Let’s gooooooo…
7:00.27am – Covering head with pillow Mrs. 54b opts to communicate non-verbally by extending middle finger, thus thwarting my attempts to inspire her by running out of the villa wearing only a smile (don’t worry, the jar of Peter Pan remained securely in the cupboard…for now).
7:01.03am – Returning seconds later much less enthused wearing only a frown and sporting some unfortunately placed mosquito bites that decorum prevents me from describing in any further detail. (BTW, does peanut butter act as salve for mosquito bites…he-he.)
7:01.15am – Itching indiscriminately but undaunted, I continue my motivational speech…
“What the fritter happened to the girl I used to know? Where’s the spirit? Where’s the love, huh? This could be the greatest day of our vacation…but you’re gonna let it be the worst. Not me,
Once more unto the beach dear friends, once more…
8:03am – But first, “Yo quiero los breakfast burritos de Tejas.” If you thought a couple of Lone Star Staters were going to spend a week on St. John without moseying on over to JJ’s Texas Coast Café, then you thought wrong, partner. Like every good Southwestern cantina, JJ’s features Tex-Mex that is hot, beer that is not, and an ambiguously gay picture of legendary Dallas Cowboy quarterback Troy Aikman hanging over the bar…why Troy is wearing a duster in the picture is beyond me but apparently it was raining men that day.
9:17am – Receiving the gift of humility and perspective from this exchange with a local Samaritan setting up some tents near the yellow house on Gibney Beach …
“Hey there, is it cool if we go hang on the beach?”
“Oh yeah, we’re gonna have a “Save the Tatas” party later to raise money for our friend who has breast cancer…there’s going to be live music and food and beer for sale. You’re welcome to join.”
Now that’s St. John for ya. I’ve yet to read a book about the island that captured the local perspective on life better than that response right there. In fact, it inspired me to write this poem in my trip diary later that morning (it’s cheesy and I’m no John Keats, but hey, at least it rhymes, right):
The St. Johnian
It’s not about yesterday or tomorrow,
It’s about today, for come what may –
Sun, rain, or hurricane –
We’ve only time for a smile, none for sorrow
We never did meet the guest of honor, but I felt comforted knowing she has so many good friends even if fate doesn’t turn out to be one of them. I’m sure someone reading this knows of her and if so, I hope they thank her for reminding us how ridiculous it is to waste time lamenting something so trivial as the last day of a vacation. We should all be so fortunate.
10:43am – Recreating the beach scene from the movie From Here To Eternity at the hidden cove located about a 100 yards up the coastline from Gibney. This mini-beach for two is only about a 5-minute snorkel away. It’s surrounded by a wall of chocolate colored rock, extremely secluded, and as far as I know, hidden from just about everything but Google Earth. Mrs. 54b thought it was romantic but felt my kisses were a bit salty…do they sell a Listerine flavored snorkel? Get me Ron Popeil on the phone stat.
1:06pm – Idling near the National Park dock while my wife procures that Cruz Bay culinary delight known simply as, Uncle Joe’s Ribs and Chicken. So good you’ll lick your wife’s fingers (that’s hot). A word to the uninitiated…though Uncle Joe’s looks like a Grab N’Go Snack Shack, it will most likely take longer than a Snickers commercial before your order is up. In fact I’m pretty sure Uncle Joe played Father Island Time in the Pine Peace School production of Rudolph, The Red-Nosed Mongoose. Needless to say, you won’t be going anywhere for a while.
4:37pm – Leaving Francis Bay as the rain clouds rolled in and making the slow Drive of Woe back to our villa. What’s the Drive of Woe you ask? It’s the drive back from the last beach you visit on your St. John vacation. Every time your foot hits the cold, steel gas pedal, it just reminds you of how long it will be before you feel the sand between your toes again and you start humming a few bars from the song, “Sometimes When We Touch.”
4:49pm – Suffering from St. John separation anxiety already when the rain clouds miraculously disappeared. So we did what any St. John lover would do and pulled into the next closest beach, which happened to be Cinnamon Bay. Yep, back to the beach again. Just enough time for me to snorkel around the Cinnamon Cay like Michael Phelps (after a few bong hits) while Mrs. 54b transported herself east of Eden on a sultry beach of sinful cinnamon sand which was the perfect backdrop for her trashy romance novel.
7:02pm – Making the Pub Crawl of Woe (are you starting to sense a trend here). We started at the Quiet Mon which I’m pretty sure is the tavern at the beginning of Treasure Island where Billy Bones was delivered the Black Spot after committing a party foul. Today, they simply would have texted him his guilty verdict, but regardless dead men tell no tales and neither does the Quiet Mon…which probably explains why the walls are black and the décor - death warmed over. Dig on the balcony thoug…good vantage point to watch all the chicanery at Woody’s.
NOTE: My memory gets blurry from here on, but I know we hit Woody’s and then the string of bars over in Wharfside Village ending with The Beach Bar to pull a Tom Petty and kill the pain one last time with a Painkiller. It cures what “ales” ya. Drinking is a sport on St. John and win or lose, we still booze.
9:46pm – Raiding the fridge for dinner “a la leftovers”…it looks eerily reminiscent to my fridge back in college. Let’s see, we have some condiments, a bottle of mostly consumed rum, and a half eaten bleu-cheese burger that used to be a cheddar cheeseburger. Sounds like Surf & Turf to me, baby!
11:17pm – Setting two alarm clocks, our cell phones, and anything else that might make noise to wake us up in time to make the first ferry off the island.
4:32am - There are only three legitimate reasons to be up this early on a Sunday morning: making babies, having babies, and leaving for the airport to catch a 6am flight to the Virgin Islands….unfortunately, we’re experiencing the 4th reason now and that is catching the 6am ferry back to St. Thomas to fly home.
6:00am – Making the walk of woe to board the ferry of woe to catch the taxi of woe so we won’t miss the flight of woe back to the world of woe.
So how do you fight the Last Day Blues?
(If you'd like to read Days 1 - 6, they are still in the archives and can be found easily just by plugging "54b" into the search function...that is, if you really have a lot of time to kill...I get a little long winded as you can tell.)
And I'd love to read how you fight the Last Day Blues in the comments below.
Hope you enjoy,
54b
Saturday, June 13 (Last Full Day) - Once More Unto The Beach, Dear Friends, Once More
Using my own unique way of explaining life through beer colored goggles, I’d say the last full day of a vacation feels a lot like the moment right after the bartender yells, “LAST CALL!”
Even after the harbinger of buzz kills makes that unwelcomed announcement, most of us are still happy because we know there’s at least some time left on the clock to rock. But a few of our brain cells – the ones we didn’t manage to kill drinking – register foreboding blips on our emotional radar warning our fragile psyches that the end is near and nothing’s waiting for us on the other side of tomorrow but a long, soul-sucking journey straight back to reality.
And it’s times like these when even the most enthusiastic traveler amongst us could use a little inspiration. So hear this, “LAST CALL FOR ST. JOHN Y’ALL,” time to get busy Limin’ or get busy leavin’.
5ish am – Dreaming of quitting our jobs, selling our house, and chucking it all to move to St. John permanently in a feeble attempt to avoid waking up to the fact that today is our last full day on the island…okay, actually, that was my wife’s dream. I was having that nightmare where you’re running late for a big test at school and you walk into class naked holding a jar of peanut butter…perhaps I have shared too much and half of you are thanking your lucky stars this trip report doesn’t contain pictures.
6:59.59am – Plugging iPod into speaker, turning the volume to “wake to the #*$& up,” and cueing song mix entitled, “Carpe the Diem!”
7:00.00am – “Over? Did you say ‘over’? This vacation isn’t over until we decide it is. Was it over when the Germans bombed Pearl Harbor? (Germans? Forget it, I’m rolling). Was it over when they said no beer bottles on the beaches? Was it over when I barfed up my spleen walking back up the Reef Bay Trail? Was it over when the National Park rangers said clothing was no longer optional on Saloman?
Hell no! And it ain’t over now. Cause when the limin’ gets tough…the tough get limin’. Are you with me? Let’s gooooooo…
7:00.27am – Covering head with pillow Mrs. 54b opts to communicate non-verbally by extending middle finger, thus thwarting my attempts to inspire her by running out of the villa wearing only a smile (don’t worry, the jar of Peter Pan remained securely in the cupboard…for now).
7:01.03am – Returning seconds later much less enthused wearing only a frown and sporting some unfortunately placed mosquito bites that decorum prevents me from describing in any further detail. (BTW, does peanut butter act as salve for mosquito bites…he-he.)
7:01.15am – Itching indiscriminately but undaunted, I continue my motivational speech…
“What the fritter happened to the girl I used to know? Where’s the spirit? Where’s the love, huh? This could be the greatest day of our vacation…but you’re gonna let it be the worst. Not me,
Once more unto the beach dear friends, once more…
8:03am – But first, “Yo quiero los breakfast burritos de Tejas.” If you thought a couple of Lone Star Staters were going to spend a week on St. John without moseying on over to JJ’s Texas Coast Café, then you thought wrong, partner. Like every good Southwestern cantina, JJ’s features Tex-Mex that is hot, beer that is not, and an ambiguously gay picture of legendary Dallas Cowboy quarterback Troy Aikman hanging over the bar…why Troy is wearing a duster in the picture is beyond me but apparently it was raining men that day.
9:17am – Receiving the gift of humility and perspective from this exchange with a local Samaritan setting up some tents near the yellow house on Gibney Beach …
“Hey there, is it cool if we go hang on the beach?”
“Oh yeah, we’re gonna have a “Save the Tatas” party later to raise money for our friend who has breast cancer…there’s going to be live music and food and beer for sale. You’re welcome to join.”
Now that’s St. John for ya. I’ve yet to read a book about the island that captured the local perspective on life better than that response right there. In fact, it inspired me to write this poem in my trip diary later that morning (it’s cheesy and I’m no John Keats, but hey, at least it rhymes, right):
The St. Johnian
It’s not about yesterday or tomorrow,
It’s about today, for come what may –
Sun, rain, or hurricane –
We’ve only time for a smile, none for sorrow
We never did meet the guest of honor, but I felt comforted knowing she has so many good friends even if fate doesn’t turn out to be one of them. I’m sure someone reading this knows of her and if so, I hope they thank her for reminding us how ridiculous it is to waste time lamenting something so trivial as the last day of a vacation. We should all be so fortunate.
10:43am – Recreating the beach scene from the movie From Here To Eternity at the hidden cove located about a 100 yards up the coastline from Gibney. This mini-beach for two is only about a 5-minute snorkel away. It’s surrounded by a wall of chocolate colored rock, extremely secluded, and as far as I know, hidden from just about everything but Google Earth. Mrs. 54b thought it was romantic but felt my kisses were a bit salty…do they sell a Listerine flavored snorkel? Get me Ron Popeil on the phone stat.
1:06pm – Idling near the National Park dock while my wife procures that Cruz Bay culinary delight known simply as, Uncle Joe’s Ribs and Chicken. So good you’ll lick your wife’s fingers (that’s hot). A word to the uninitiated…though Uncle Joe’s looks like a Grab N’Go Snack Shack, it will most likely take longer than a Snickers commercial before your order is up. In fact I’m pretty sure Uncle Joe played Father Island Time in the Pine Peace School production of Rudolph, The Red-Nosed Mongoose. Needless to say, you won’t be going anywhere for a while.
4:37pm – Leaving Francis Bay as the rain clouds rolled in and making the slow Drive of Woe back to our villa. What’s the Drive of Woe you ask? It’s the drive back from the last beach you visit on your St. John vacation. Every time your foot hits the cold, steel gas pedal, it just reminds you of how long it will be before you feel the sand between your toes again and you start humming a few bars from the song, “Sometimes When We Touch.”
4:49pm – Suffering from St. John separation anxiety already when the rain clouds miraculously disappeared. So we did what any St. John lover would do and pulled into the next closest beach, which happened to be Cinnamon Bay. Yep, back to the beach again. Just enough time for me to snorkel around the Cinnamon Cay like Michael Phelps (after a few bong hits) while Mrs. 54b transported herself east of Eden on a sultry beach of sinful cinnamon sand which was the perfect backdrop for her trashy romance novel.
7:02pm – Making the Pub Crawl of Woe (are you starting to sense a trend here). We started at the Quiet Mon which I’m pretty sure is the tavern at the beginning of Treasure Island where Billy Bones was delivered the Black Spot after committing a party foul. Today, they simply would have texted him his guilty verdict, but regardless dead men tell no tales and neither does the Quiet Mon…which probably explains why the walls are black and the décor - death warmed over. Dig on the balcony thoug…good vantage point to watch all the chicanery at Woody’s.
NOTE: My memory gets blurry from here on, but I know we hit Woody’s and then the string of bars over in Wharfside Village ending with The Beach Bar to pull a Tom Petty and kill the pain one last time with a Painkiller. It cures what “ales” ya. Drinking is a sport on St. John and win or lose, we still booze.
9:46pm – Raiding the fridge for dinner “a la leftovers”…it looks eerily reminiscent to my fridge back in college. Let’s see, we have some condiments, a bottle of mostly consumed rum, and a half eaten bleu-cheese burger that used to be a cheddar cheeseburger. Sounds like Surf & Turf to me, baby!
11:17pm – Setting two alarm clocks, our cell phones, and anything else that might make noise to wake us up in time to make the first ferry off the island.
4:32am - There are only three legitimate reasons to be up this early on a Sunday morning: making babies, having babies, and leaving for the airport to catch a 6am flight to the Virgin Islands….unfortunately, we’re experiencing the 4th reason now and that is catching the 6am ferry back to St. Thomas to fly home.
6:00am – Making the walk of woe to board the ferry of woe to catch the taxi of woe so we won’t miss the flight of woe back to the world of woe.
So how do you fight the Last Day Blues?
(If you'd like to read Days 1 - 6, they are still in the archives and can be found easily just by plugging "54b" into the search function...that is, if you really have a lot of time to kill...I get a little long winded as you can tell.)
It’s not about yesterday or tomorrow...It’s about today, for come what may – Sun, rain, or hurricane – we've only time for a smile, and none for sorrow
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Marcia (Mrs. Pete)
- Posts: 1576
- Joined: Mon Aug 07, 2006 9:40 pm
- Location: Madison Area, Wisconsin
I hate the last day on STJ. There is no cure other than making that phone call to the villa agent to get penciled in for the next trip to paradise.
I swear, we have the same conversation every year:
Pete: Do you think we really appreciated these two weeks?
Marcia: Yes, we did. I think.
Pete: Did we take it all for granted?
Marcia: Yes, we did. But, that's kind of what it's all about. Isn't it? Or, not?
Pete: It seems like we just got here. But, then again, it seems like we've been here a long time.
Marcia: I know exactly what you mean. We knew we'd be here for a full two weeks and let ourselves get comfortable, kind of "at home" here.
Pete: Why is the last day always so sad? We know we're coming back.
Marcia: Because of just what you said earlier, we are wondering if we really appreciated it, throughout.
Pete: It's not like we don't like being home but this is so wonderful, here.
Marcia: Knowing we'll be back is good...
Pete: I want to take home with us, a lot of the calmness and happiness we've had here. Can we do that?
Marcia: Yes, we can.
And then, we declare it a villa gravity day. Always a villa gravity day for us, on our last day.
I swear, we have the same conversation every year:
Pete: Do you think we really appreciated these two weeks?
Marcia: Yes, we did. I think.
Pete: Did we take it all for granted?
Marcia: Yes, we did. But, that's kind of what it's all about. Isn't it? Or, not?
Pete: It seems like we just got here. But, then again, it seems like we've been here a long time.
Marcia: I know exactly what you mean. We knew we'd be here for a full two weeks and let ourselves get comfortable, kind of "at home" here.
Pete: Why is the last day always so sad? We know we're coming back.
Marcia: Because of just what you said earlier, we are wondering if we really appreciated it, throughout.
Pete: It's not like we don't like being home but this is so wonderful, here.
Marcia: Knowing we'll be back is good...
Pete: I want to take home with us, a lot of the calmness and happiness we've had here. Can we do that?
Marcia: Yes, we can.
And then, we declare it a villa gravity day. Always a villa gravity day for us, on our last day.
Marcia (Mrs. Pete)
Missing St. John. As always.
Missing St. John. As always.
thinking back we've always done a "last day" something or other on each trip.
first trip we spent the day driving all the over looks and taking lots of photos (me!) and beach hopping. We wanted to hit 2 beaches that previously eluded us - Jumbie and Gibney. I know we were up and out VERY early, maybe around 7. Not sure what we did the rest of the day/evening.
second trip on our last night we arranged a private taxi so we could live it up on our last night and not need to worry about driving. that was a hoot and a half of a night! it was also the night of the Christmas Jazz concert. Lots of fun.
last trip we spent the day with our niece who came along on this trip along with some others. we gave her the Coral Bay tour and we went to Sloop's, Skinny', Tourist Trap, Smoothie Stand and wound it all up at Maho. GREAT day eating and drinking our way across the island
first trip we spent the day driving all the over looks and taking lots of photos (me!) and beach hopping. We wanted to hit 2 beaches that previously eluded us - Jumbie and Gibney. I know we were up and out VERY early, maybe around 7. Not sure what we did the rest of the day/evening.
second trip on our last night we arranged a private taxi so we could live it up on our last night and not need to worry about driving. that was a hoot and a half of a night! it was also the night of the Christmas Jazz concert. Lots of fun.
last trip we spent the day with our niece who came along on this trip along with some others. we gave her the Coral Bay tour and we went to Sloop's, Skinny', Tourist Trap, Smoothie Stand and wound it all up at Maho. GREAT day eating and drinking our way across the island
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piscesgirl0314
- Posts: 598
- Joined: Thu Sep 25, 2008 12:31 pm
- Location: Chesapeake, VA
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Marcia (Mrs. Pete)
- Posts: 1576
- Joined: Mon Aug 07, 2006 9:40 pm
- Location: Madison Area, Wisconsin
You have something really fun to look forward to this year on your last day.mbw1024 wrote:thinking back we've always done a "last day" something or other on each trip.
first trip we spent the day driving all the over looks and taking lots of photos (me!) and beach hopping. We wanted to hit 2 beaches that previously eluded us - Jumbie and Gibney. I know we were up and out VERY early, maybe around 7. Not sure what we did the rest of the day/evening.
second trip on our last night we arranged a private taxi so we could live it up on our last night and not need to worry about driving. that was a hoot and a half of a night! it was also the night of the Christmas Jazz concert. Lots of fun.
last trip we spent the day with our niece who came along on this trip along with some others. we gave her the Coral Bay tour and we went to Sloop's, Skinny', Tourist Trap, Smoothie Stand and wound it all up at Maho. GREAT day eating and drinking our way across the island
Marcia (Mrs. Pete)
Missing St. John. As always.
Missing St. John. As always.
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mindehankins
- Posts: 3014
- Joined: Fri Mar 06, 2009 8:21 am
- Location: Western NY State
Thanks and good stuff
Probably no cure for the Last Day Blues, but I agree with having something fun planned ahead of time so you have a built-in excuse for getting out and about early...
And I love the idea of just eating and drinking your way across the island. It's kind of a last-day catch all. Just go where the wind blows ya.
Barb, missed ya by that much...we get there on June 8th. We were going to do the usual Sunday to Sunday thing, but waited too long to get the airfares. By going Tuesday to Tuesday, we saved about $600. Silly American Airlines...wish they'd hurry up and get a direct flight from DFW to STT too.
And I love the idea of just eating and drinking your way across the island. It's kind of a last-day catch all. Just go where the wind blows ya.
Barb, missed ya by that much...we get there on June 8th. We were going to do the usual Sunday to Sunday thing, but waited too long to get the airfares. By going Tuesday to Tuesday, we saved about $600. Silly American Airlines...wish they'd hurry up and get a direct flight from DFW to STT too.
It’s not about yesterday or tomorrow...It’s about today, for come what may – Sun, rain, or hurricane – we've only time for a smile, and none for sorrow
I get teared up because we are leaving; but more because I am watching my girls tear up. SOOOOO sad.
One of my most favorite memories EVER was one of our first visits with the girls. We were staying at the Westin and had let them swim in the pool that morning.
I KNOW we had told our littlest (about 4) that we were leaving that day, but it must not have been very clear, especially since they had been allowed to swim. She just thought it was a regular day.
After swimming she came in and undressed. One of us told her she needed to hurry and take her shower because it was time to leave for the airport. She looked at us with complete astonishment. Standing there soaking wet and butt naked and just started crying hysterically. We tried to get her to calm down, but she shut herself in the closet and refused to come out.
It was just a very funny picture because she was a skinny tiny little thing, completely naked and making a hell of a racket.
One of my most favorite memories EVER was one of our first visits with the girls. We were staying at the Westin and had let them swim in the pool that morning.
I KNOW we had told our littlest (about 4) that we were leaving that day, but it must not have been very clear, especially since they had been allowed to swim. She just thought it was a regular day.
After swimming she came in and undressed. One of us told her she needed to hurry and take her shower because it was time to leave for the airport. She looked at us with complete astonishment. Standing there soaking wet and butt naked and just started crying hysterically. We tried to get her to calm down, but she shut herself in the closet and refused to come out.
It was just a very funny picture because she was a skinny tiny little thing, completely naked and making a hell of a racket.
"Sponges grow in the ocean...I wonder how much deeper it would be if that didn't happen."