I’m on a quest to discover the islands of the Caribbean and I’m starting with those within reach. I visited Grand Cayman on the weekend that it was recognizing the devastation that hurricane Ivan had wrecked 18 years prior. A radio report in the taxi on the way from the airport reminded me that for seven unrelenting hours, the category 5 hurricane left unimaginable destruction in its wake. Surprisingly only two fatalities of the intimate 60,000 population were recorded.
Today, there is little to no evidence of the disaster. Other than the radio reminder, single storied flat-roofed dwellings taunt moderate-rise hotels into building code submission.
Though it rained on the weekend that I visited Grand Cayman, the rain only proved to illuminate the beauty of a small sophisticated island.
An hour long flight from Kingston on Cayman Airways brings you to Grand Cayman, the largest of three islands of the union. Once annexed to Jamaica – upon its Independence on the 6 August 1962 – the Caymans were left alone to earn the title of British Overseas Territory and it remains that way till today. British flags flown at half mast all over the island indicate a close relationship with a sovereign in mourning.
My right hand rental on a left hand drive road would be my first cue of a British state operating in an Americas context. And on the radio, the reporter offered temperature readings in Fahrenheit and wave swells in feet. Further, when I paid for my salads at Subway, I was often quoted in US dollars although the cash register only printed the local currency total which is $1.25 to the US dollar.
The island is small but well taken care of. Infrastructure is good, grass is cut and lights are on. People seemed content enough. I felt that Grand Cayman reflected a dual personality; offering a continental feel with an island style – both high end and laid back – high brow and low key – it’s familiar yet foreign.
Surprisingly, I spent a good bit of time speaking with a number of older folk running tours at some of the tourist spots that I visited. I think that the Cayman Islands may be a-yet-to-be-declared blue zone within the Caribbean . There are a remarkable number of nonagenarians here!
Further, there appears to be a diversity of the population. Spanish could be heard behind store counters in many shops and I witnessed persons of African descent, Asian descent and Caucasian breaking bread together on lunch breaks; and the tourists were just as reflective, far flung and well travelled – quite a nice mix.
The Caymans have a history as islands that pirates hid their bounty, it’s a history that perhaps foretells its present day fame as a tax shelter for the wealthy – the financial sector, a healthy amount of cruise ships and labour attracted from the Philippines, Jamaica and Latin America keep the Caymanian economy afloat.
My hotel was conveniently located on Seven Mile Beach where most of the hotels take advantage of a silver stretch of sand and gin-clear waters to lure beach loving vacationers.
I enjoyed my time tooling around in my rental, meeting up with friends from UWI and chatting with senior locals. Google Maps got me to where I was going with no problem, other than the odd circling around roundabouts and close encounters with happy-go-lucky feral chickens, I encountered no issues.
I drove upon well maintained signposted highways to make tourist stops around the island; at Pedro Castle, the Botanic Gardens, the Cayman Spirits Distillery, the Turtle Centre and a place called Hell. I drove from Rum point on West End to visit blow holes at East End, all the while trying to avoid suicidal stray chickens.
I read somewhere that the chickens of Grand Cayman are wild, harmless and add that much more character to the island. And I couldn’t agree more – I was as charmed by the island, as much as I was charmed by the unfettered birds – maybe birds of a feather do flock together, as being wild, harmless and free speaks to the very being of me!