Aruba 2018- Part 2

Thursday of our Aruba trip began with snorkeling. We went back to Malmok and the quaint stone steps into the sea. This time we snorkeled on the other side of the steps. I kept thinking, "Thank you, God, for letting me see this with my own eyes. Thank you for letting me having this experience." I saw all kinds of fish, but even the rocks are interesting. In almost every crevice is a sea anemone, or smaller fish. I was overcome with wonder, just hanging above, watching.

And the very rocks are alive. I have looked through tons of pictures and have not yet been able to identify this...coral, plant, thing. To me this looks like a coral, bloomed out and feeding with its delicate polyps, like millions of ivory feathers tossed by the current. If I am wrong and you know it's true identity, please let me know. It gnaws on me not being able to identity an animal (if it is a coral).

Proof that I can go in the water!! You don't know how joyous this picture makes me. After a lifetime of sitting on the sidelines while others swam or played, it is nothing short of a miracle to be snorkeling at 45 years old.

 This puffer fish was a big as my hand. I was staring at the rocks whens something flashed at the side of my face. It was this guy.

He looked at me from the left, zipped directly in front and scrutinized, then flipped to the right and gave me a hard stare. After deciding I was not some strange new species of blue puffer fish, he was disinterested and I caught him just swimming away. 

 I really loved Malmok, and I am so glad it is the place I chose to stay. Below you can see it is very windy, but my shadow shows that all the clefts in the rock are filled with coral.

And right behind us, facing Malmok Beach, was "my house". No, it's not the place we stayed, it's the place that I would choose as my house if I lived there.

 Isn't it glorious? A little cottage covered in bougainvillea vine, and a stone wall tumbling with every color of flowering shrub. I can imagine the view out the window, straight over the stony beach of Malmok and over the sea...

Just one more picture! Do you do that, do you pick a house in a place you visit and imagine how it would be to live there? My moma, pop, and youngest son went on a trip to Alabama while we were in Aruba. When moma was showing me their photos, she said, "And here's "my house"!" It was a lovely turn-of-the-century cottage with peeling gingerbread. It's lovely to imagine, but home is always best.

When we dragged ourselves from the water we went home and showered and changed. Then we hopped in the car for a wonderful road trip that took us up and around the northern tip of the island. I have to say that this was my VERY favorite area, and it is one that very few tourists ever make it to. In fact, many of the people we talked to said that tourists hardly leave the area around their resort...

  One of Duane's friends encouraged him to just go to an all-inclusive resort, one that even provided entertainment. I can't tell you how my stomach clenched and my mouth went dry in abject horror. I'm a recluse by nature and being packed in with people in a hotel, beach, or restaurant is nerve-wracking to me. And I knew that the buddy's idea of the perfect island getaway was laying on the beach with some kind of funny drink in his hand until it was time to go home again. I heaved a sigh of relief when Duane said he told him that was not the kind of vacation we were planning on.We were going on the exploring kind of vacation!

 Here we are, far north of any sign of civilization. The beaches turned into stones awash with green mosses and weeds.

And tide pools full of crabs and crawlies, and adorable checkered snails.

The entire ground here is nothing but fossilized coral. There was red, and black coral, but look at this PURPLE. I almost died. And the gorgeous black sea fan was twice the height of my palm.

We got back in the car, and went up to the northernmost coast. I honestly took so many pictures and videos of this area that I could make an entire post and you would throw up from mass photo exposure. But the spot below was magical. I videoed it, because the cove would go slightly still, then a huge wave would come in. It would crash up, making a spray like you see on the left and completely fill the basin to the right of it. The water in the basin would stream out like a million waterfalls, and then it would happen all over again! The spray of the water, the sound of the crashing waves...I could have stayed there forever.

And then we drove even further, down past where the California lighthouse stands guard over the coast. And here it turned to massive boulders the size of cars, the ocean swelling and white-capped.

There were tide pools of crabs and sea urchins in the the shelter of stones, and the wonderful crash of waves.

When my oldest son saw these pictures he said they looked like National Geographic pictures, and he half expected there to be seals and walrus basking on the the stones. It really does, doesn't it?

We finally came to this sign and the road got a bit too rough for our normal little city car. We did have a jeep go past us and continue on.

I loved the area so much. The wind was crazy though. It pelted sand against your legs (I never had any above my knees- no sand in the eyes ;) until they felt as though they were literally sandblasted.

We traversed back to our little home-away-from-home and had a lovely lunch on the last of our grocery buffet. Below is a parchita, or passion fruit. At home, our wild passion fruit are the size and color of a lime and have a small number of very puckery tasting flesh-covered seeds. These were large and orange-yellow. When cracked open, they smelled like the most amazing perfume, a mix of floral essence and sweet fruit. It was so wonderful that I would dab a bit behind my ears in hopes of smelling anywhere near as wonderful. But I hesitated to eat it. Things that smell like perfume sometimes taste like when you walk into a room after someone has sprayed fragrance and it coats your mouth- eww! 

I can't describe the taste. It was delightful, but it honestly did taste like a perfume mixed with the most subtly sweet and fragrant fruit. I would say that it is exactly what I would imagine God planning it to taste like when he decided that it would be called a "passion" fruit. I hope that someday I will see another of this type at home so that I can relive the strange and wonderful taste again.

After lunch, we went to Boca Catalina Beach and took some of our bread so we could feed my little lizard friends. It was the hubby's idea and I was so proud! I didn't even think of it.

This little turquoise man came right up after Duane threw a bit of crust out. He was not going to be shy if there was bread on the line!

 Below is an exceptionally lovely lady lagadishi. She is just radiant. I could have kissed her on her scaly little lips, but I doubt I could have caught her. And even if I did, she would undoubtedly have bit me :)

I got a video of this little gang of bread-snarfing ruffians, but I don't know how to put them up without help. Suffice to say, there was a lot of male posturing and "slap-fighting" going on. The guys would puff up so that they looked hunchbacked and then spring at each other like cats do, and like cats, would divert their path right before they hit each other, slapping ineffectually at the air. Meanwhile, the girls were eating bread as fast as possible while the men were being stupid. It was great fun to watch!

 The only rain we saw all week was a shower that lasted just long enough for us to duck under a palm canopy. Then it was past. Can you see the drops falling to the water?

And here are the only shoes I brought, aside from my swim shoes. I did what I suppose is called a capsule wardrobe. All my dresses coordinated with red and so I only needed the one pair. These are the same shoes I took with me to Paris and walked tens of miles a day. These shoes are really "made for walking". I was a bit unsure as to shoe choice for this trip, because of the vast variety of types of terrain. Most travel sites recommend tennis shoes or hikers. I haven't had tennis shoes since I was in 5th grade and thought I might try basketball! No, my Jambu sandals were the right choice, and I got around perfectly, even over ground that had Duane stumbling. I think it's the ankle strap that makes them so great. Both of my pairs have them, and so I can't say if all Jambu sandals are made equally. I will say, the ones with the ankle straps are secure, the soles have great traction, and the insoles are comfy enough to walk all day, every day. Who needs sneakers when you can wear cute sandals?

Thursday evening, Duane took me to the California lighthouse. It is approximately 100 feet tall, and over 100 years old. It had been closed for many, many years, but was just renovated and now you can climb to the top. In the picture below you can see the lighthouse and the restaurant, Faro Blanco, to its left.

The stairs were much like the ones in my Grandma Tommy's turn of the century home, very narrow and steep. Obviously made for the smaller feet of many generations ago. Or, just not made for my  big honking ones. Going up wasn't bad, going down I had to walk sideways to keep on the tread.

Luckily, there was a wire cage around the lookout. The wind was so incredibly strong it would have blown us off like so much thistle down. Even with the wire, Duane had to go first around the side, bracing his feet and breaking the wind enough that I could walk. But the sunset views were lovely. I think it was $8 to go up, and we were the only ones there at the time.

After a day of excitement and huge winds that left my ears ringing, we went next door to the Italian restaurant, Faro Blanco. It had very mixed reviews, and I can see why. Duane loved his; I did not love mine. I had a simple pasta with a tomato sauce, prosciutto, sun dried tomatoes, and red onions. But, for some odd reason, the red onions were not cooked and they were also very hot. It was not an appetizing dish, and it cost $28. I figured it in my mind and realized I could have gotten the same ingredients at Aldi and made the entire pot of pasta for less then $10 (and I would have cooked the onion ;). Duane picked the dessert, a molten chocolate cake. There was a beautifully creamy sauce around it that looked like caramel. I swirled my first bite through it and popped it in my mouth. It had so much alcohol in it (not in the description) that it made my stomach burn. I love wines and liqueurs in desserts, but they should be burnt off. I had to let the hubby eat the dessert. I will say that the ambience was amazing. This is not a good picture, but from the balcony we could see over the stone balustrade to the ocean all the way around and the rolling waves with the moon reflecting off of them. Perhaps go for a small salad and just enjoy the view...

And when we came out, there was the lighthouse, a beacon in the darkness, doing it's work of warning ships off the jagged northern coast.

We went home and packed, so that when we awoke on Friday we could drive back to some of our favorite places, and just sit and enjoy before getting to the airport at 12:00. I will add something strange. There are practically NO souvenir shops on the island. We looked everywhere we went, even in the capital. Duane gets a shirt from every place we visit, and I always get a magnet. Sounds silly, but my fridge is like a memory board of wonderful places we have vacationed. But there was not so much as a postcard to be found. Finally, on our last morning, Duane took us down to the resort area with the massive high-rise hotels. In the small streets that connect the hotels, we found two shops that sold items for mementos. My magnet is a wooden cutout out of the island, wood-burned with some of the place names. In the US, souvenir shops coat beaches and tourist spots- it was just strange to have to seek them out.

And now I am going to give you a final overview of my favorite thing about Aruba. The amazing variety of beaches. And what was equally glorious was the fact that most of them were empty when we got there, or had three or four people. Bliss for a crotchety hermit like me!


Below is Arashi, a beautiful white sand beach where you simply walk right into the water. Lovely, but for me, that would get boring if that was all there was.

But there are beaches of lava rock covered with conch shells and coral, and dotted with the native divi-divi trees, like Boca Catalina.

 There are beaches circled by massive surf-carved cliffs like in Arikok park...

 where the sand is covered with beautiful shells.

There is my beloved Malmok with its jutting stone and carved steps into the sea.

The moss covered rocks and tide pools of the north portion, its surface covered with corals, sea fans, and sponges.

 And the utmost northern tip, with great boulders and crashing waves, where the wind and the roar makes you deaf, but you don't want to leave.

When Duane told me where we were going on our trip, I never imagined that a tiny island 20 x 6 miles could have so much variety. And if you thought that a desert island would be less interesting than a tropical one, you would be mistaken. What the land lacked in diversity of animals, the sea made up for in the range of landscapes that take your breath away. 

Hubby and I had such a romantic time, and got along remarkably well for it being our first trip without kids in 24 years. We held hands everywhere we went (happy sigh) and just really enjoyed each other's company. This vacation was kind of an experiment, and it made the thought of an empty nest not so scary after all... 

And then it was time to fly away home. I was ready. Three full days, and two half days was the perfect amount of time to relax, enjoy a new locale, and explore every nook and cranny of this amazing little island. Here we are leaving Aruba.

 And here is open water, and the promise of home...

It is my wish that every visitor to Aruba would have the chance to meet someone like Carlos, a native who was passionate about the nature and culture of his homeland. That they would venture out, and see more of the island than just the place where they stay. And that they would always be kaweta. This is the Papiamento word for curious.

 I leave you with one of my dear little lagadishi, who says to you, "Stay kaweta, my friend!"



****Did you miss the first part of our Island Adventure? 
See  Aruba 2018- Part 1