May
13
2010
By Robyn Hodson
There's nothing quite like looking out of the window of your not-altogether-completed beach hotel on a tiny Caribbean island, watching an ominous bank of black clouds approaching.
With CNN’s most serious voice announcing in the background: 'Hurricane Beta heads for Nicaraguan Corn Islands', it seems appealing to pack your bags and row for Oxford.
But you didn't, did you? You took no heed of the weather warnings at the airport or the obviously nervous ex-pats nailing clapboard over their windows. Instead you adopted a chilled local approach to the situation, topped up your glass with a swift sharpener of Flor de Caña rum (aged 12 years) at 10am, and headed for the great outdoors for a look-around. It'll pass, you told yourself confidently. You’re well travelled and you’ve seen this all before.
And now here it was... the inevitable calm before the storm. Nary a ripple creased the vast, grey ocean nor breeze wobbled a single flimsy palm frond. Fishing boats raced for the port and the streets were war-zone deserted.
Thunder rumbled in the distance and rain began to come in sideways. Looking frantically for somewhere to hide, I made for the only sturdy-looking building in the immediate vicinity I could find: “Anastasia’s on the Sea”… and that was no exaggeration as there it stood, on stilts, IN the sea.
Thinking this was possibly not one of my better ideas, I nevertheless crashed through the battered turquoise door and happened upon the rest of the island shacked up inside. Beers were open, rum was flowing, Mark ‘Chokey’ Taylor ironically belted out ‘Sunshine Reggae’ from ancient speakers and the locals had taken to the dance floor.
A hurricane party. Only in the Caribbean.
Fade to black…
www.bigcornisland.com
Stay tuned for the second part of Robyn's hurricane odyssey tomorrow. While you wait, visit our trip planning site for some sunnier travel ideas.