Last week was my birthday week, so I took a break from creating new content. Instead, I’m sharing a video and post from the archives. I wrote this after a milestone birthday trip to Clearwater Beach and Caladesi Island in 2021, so some details may have changed. Check the Caladesi Island State Park website for current access and conditions.

This year, I’ll be celebrating with my niece in Aruba at the end of the month. She doesn’t know it yet, but this is “our” birthday trip.

I knew I wanted to spend my birthday at the beach, but I didn’t decide on Clearwater Beach, Florida, until about a week beforehand. It meant I wouldn’t have to contend with COVID-19 testing hoopla, and it put me close to Caladesi Island State Park, one of the few untouched islands along Florida’s Gulf Coast. Miles of pristine white sand and an uncrowded sea with gentle, lapping waves. The world was emerging from a pandemic, I had left my full-time job, and I was entering a new decade of life. It seemed like the ideal place to spend my birthday reflecting on this new milestone and planning for the year ahead.

After breakfast on Friday, my birthday, I made a playlist of my favorite Neo-Soul artists, heavy on Jill Scott, packed a lunch and bottled water, and set out for Caladesi Island with one of my sisters. At the time, I’d read that you could walk there from Clearwater Beach, but since we didn’t know the route, we felt safer taking an Uber to Honeymoon Island and catching the ferry.

The ferry ride took about 15 minutes. Along the way, I snapped photos of the mangroves and a flock of white pelicans. No dolphins, though. I had hoped to see a few.

When we got off the ferry, we went straight to the beach. Our time on the island was limited, so as much as I would have liked to explore the nature trails, I had to save them for another visit. We rented chairs and an umbrella and set about learning the Stingray Shuffle, which is really a thing. I spent the first hour or so walking along the shore, collecting seashells and building up the courage to shuffle into the water.

When I finally went in, I stayed close to shore, thinking it would help me avoid a stingray encounter. Then a helpful beachgoer informed me that the stingrays often return to the shore when they think the coast is clear. So much for that plan.

I suppose I should have read Myrtle Scharrer Betz’s memoir, Yesteryear I Lived in Paradise, about her childhood on Caladesi Island. There was a well-read copy in the nightstand drawer of my room at the Sandpearl Resort. Her stories of growing up on the island might have prepared me better for my day there.

However, in the end, Caladesi was exactly what I needed for my birthday. I got the sun, sand, sea and time to reflect that I had come for.

I also got plenty of mosquito bites and ant stings, despite not going on the nature trails, but I didn’t get stung by a stingray.

Happy birthday to me!

Christmas night. The presents unwrapped. The food and desserts devoured. I sat down to rewatch season one of Death In Paradise while searching for flights to Aruba. I wanted to book four nights between Christmas and New Year’s, but it was high season and airfare from New York was four figures.

Someone on Meta Threads suggested searching for seven nights instead. “Then change your return flight once you’re there. It’ll be cheaper overall.” It was, and I got a $9 refund too. Thank you, stranger on the internet!

I also booked four nights at the Voco Surfside Hotel by IHG using points. The hotel—formerly Talk of the Town—had reopened just two days earlier, so I landed a freshly renovated room for pennies.

Voco is a four-minute drive from the airport and directly across from Surfside Beach, which happens to be my least favorite beach in Aruba. I would have preferred a four-star beachfront hotel on Palm or Eagle Beach with chair-side service, but nightly rates started at $500, with the most expensive coming in at $6,000 a night.

Booking a non-resort hotel made me aware, daily, of how much things actually cost. I’ve returned from beach trips in the past and added everything up afterward, always surprised by the total. This time, the math was unavoidable.

More importantly, it forced me out of one place and into many. I met far more people than I would have if I’d stayed at a resort the entire time. I had long, unfiltered conversations with strangers about marriage, children, aging parents, and the general feeling that the world as we know it is ending.

I also had plenty of conversations about beaches, hotels, excursions, restaurants, and TikTok recommendations.

I chose a different beach every day. On my last trip to Aruba in 2021, I stayed at the RIU on Palm Beach and never left the property. This time, without having resort amenities or a swimmable beach nearby, I decided to explore as much of the island’s beaches as possible during my stay.

There’s no Uber or Lyft in Aruba, and most taxis are cash only. I recommend withdrawing at least $500 before leaving the U.S.; island ATMs charge $5–$10 per withdrawal. Buy a bus pass if you are on the bus line. Taxis are expensive. Better yet, rent a car. It’s about $350 for the week, and especially during the holidays, when buses run less frequently and taxis are scarce, it’s worth it. Traffic is manageable, parking is plentiful and free, and the autonomy can’t be beat.

Because my hotel wasn’t in the main hotel area, I walked about twelve minutes each morning to the nearest bus stop and back again at night. This is how I discovered The West Deck Restaurant, where I had an excellent fish dinner one evening, with a side of Johnny cakes to go.

When I mentioned how I was getting around Aruba to my sister, she said she’d rather I go broke paying for taxis but stay safe.

I never felt unsafe.

The only “incident” I encountered was a car full of young men pulling alongside me to get my attention, quickly realizing I was old enough to be their grandmother, and driving off.

On my first full day, I went to a popular local hangout, Arashi Beach. The seabed at Arashi was too rocky for me. After the fifth time hitting my toe on a rock, I packed up and headed to Eagle Beach.

The next day, at Palm Beach near Moomba Beach Bar, I intended to rent a chair and umbrella, but three cruise ships were in port and they were out of rentals. In retrospect, it worked out. The water had too much sargassum for my liking, so I packed up and went to Eagle Beach.

See a pattern? No matter where I started my day, I ended up at Eagle Beach.

It had the clearest water and the most breathing room, people-wise. I had early dinners two evenings at the Tik Tok recommended Passions on the Beach on Eagle Beach. The staff at Amsterdam Manor across the street were gracious and accommodating. They let me use their restroom both evenings because the bathroom situation at Passions was… not it.

One afternoon, while on Eagle Beach, I walked to Super Food, the island’s massive grocery store that locals and visitors alike swear by. I planned to stock up on water and snacks, but the checkout lines were too long to justify the savings.

Instead, I joined the line outside at the Oliebollen tent. Oliebollen are Dutch holiday doughnuts traditionally eaten around New Year’s. I tried both versions, with and without raisins. The plain one tasted like a funnel cake.

Later that night, I mentioned this to an Aruban man at the bar across from my hotel. I told him “I tried Oliebollen today.” He nodded and said, “That’s something the Dutch eat for the holidays.”

Dear reader, he was Dutch.

Second to Eagle Beach for me was Mangel Halto. It was quieter, calmer, and far enough removed from the holiday crowds that it didn’t feel like a tourist trap.

I went there on New Year’s Day. I didn’t make any resolutions this year. My last post in this newsletter was January 2024, and I’ve since learned that resolutions don’t work for me. Instead, I reflected on the year that had passed and did a spiritual check-in with God. Then I went for a dip.

Afterward, I packed up and returned, yes, again, to Eagle Beach.

I skipped Passions that night because it was my last night on the island. I booked a sunset cruise and ended the evening with dinner at Smokey Joe’s in Palm Beach. Having a really good meal on the last night of a trip cannot be overstated. I will fondly recall that grilled mahi-mahi with red beans and rice, and hot pepper sauce, for a long while.

Things I would do differently next time:

• Stay on Eagle Beach.

• Rent a car.

• Visit San Nicolas and Baby Beach.

• Eat at O’Neils in San Nicolas. I was told that their rice and peas, jerk chicken and oxtails are worth the trip.

• Visit more local spots so I can have more conversations with locals.

• Learn Spanish. It was very hard communicating with some of the locals and any hospitality staff who were not working the front desk or restaurants.

• Go to a resort spa. I did manage to squeeze in a massage at Spa Citro Eagle Beach. It was less expensive but also less enjoyable. The room was freezing cold. To the point that I wished I had socks. And the massage was just okay.

Lucky me, I get to do it all again this October when I return to Aruba to celebrate my niece’s milestone birthday. Have you ever been to Aruba? What did I miss that I should try next time, and please don’t say Flamingo Island.

Ayo!

THE HAMMOCK SOCIETY TRAVEL TIP

Book a trip to Aruba. From NYC, JetBlue is the way to go. I don’t know if the tip I got from a stranger on Meta Threads would work every time, but I’m really glad it worked this time.

In June of 2021, while still more-or-less in the middle of a global pandemic, I spent three blissful days at the Diplomat Beach Resort & Spa. Last week, I checked in again for a work meeting.

Back in 2021, I blogged about my stay. I started my recap with this paragraph:

“This is a very nice resort,” my Uber driver said as he pulled up to the Diplomat’s Porte-cochere. But, as I hauled my bags up the stairs after waiting in vain for a bellhop, I wasn’t inclined to believe him. When I entered the spacious lobby, though, my hope was rekindled. I had to pause for a moment to take it all in.

When I arrived at the Diplomat last week, I again waited in vain for a bellhop. They just don’t exist at this property. After lugging my bags up the stairs, I stood once again in awe of the beautiful lobby. I learned during my stay that the palm trees will be removed and replaced by a variety of tropical plants when the property undergoes renovations in the next year. I will miss them, so I’ve posted the above photo of the lobby for posterity.

This time around, I got a room with a balcony. It truly made a difference. Even though the room was smaller, was missing robes and slippers, and had obvious signs of wear and tear, I was delighted to have it. However, I spent the majority of my short stay in a meeting room on the 33rd floor. The room had sunrise and sunset balconies, and views as far as the eye could see. Yet, it was designed so that they weren’t distracting. It was a productive meeting, but on that first day, I was looking forward to lunch.

When I visited in 2021, the only restaurant that was open was the beachfront casual-dining restaurant Playa. During my stay last week, every restaurant was open. I was spoiled for choice. Unfortunately, I chose Playa. I was thrilled to see that the three Mahi-Mahi Fish Tacos were still on the menu. My mouth watered as I ordered them, remembering the fresh, crisp, tasty treat that I had eaten for two days straight back then (photo left). However, what I received (photo right) was the opposite of tasty. I guess the saying is true: you can’t go home again. Fortunately, the other restaurants on the property had plenty of delicious culinary delights, so I could create new memories. One, in particular, was a key lime pie from Counterpoint Cafe that was worth the calories.

On the morning of my only leisure day, I awoke to a beautiful sunrise. I was so happy that I had packed a swimsuit. In less than an hour, I was on the beach jumping waves like a kid again. And quoting a friend I made on the same beach back in 2021, “I came here for this!”

THE HAMMOCK SOCIETY TRAVEL TIP

The Diplomat is within walking distance of a Walmart Supercenter. If you’re staying for more than two days, make that your first stop to save on water and snacks.

Last March, I needed to decompress after a pretty stressful couple of weeks at work and decided to head to Puerto Rico. I had an award ticket with United Airlines and got upgraded to business class. ¡Wepa!

My disappointment started when I boarded. No pillows, no blankets, but thankfully I could lie flat, because I hadn’t slept the night before. After breakfast, I pushed away my tray, lowered my seat and fell asleep. I didn’t wake up until the flight attendant asked me to return my seat to the upright position. The smooth flight made up for my disappointment with the upgrade. It even made up for the children running back and forth in the aisles (I was vaguely conscious of them while I slept).

Upon arrival in San Juan, I took an Uber to my hotel, the Fairmont El San Juan. Another disappointment. As I waited on the pool deck for my room, I counted three DJs playing three different types of music between the pool and the beach. Clearly, this was not the place to decompress. I checked out the next morning with no clear destination.

I decided to do a tour of Old San Juan, and after chatting with a young family over lunch in the open-air restaurant at Palacio Provincial, I was convinced to book the remainder of my stay at the El Conquistador Resort in Fajardo.

When I arrived at the El Conquistador, all the joy I felt about this beautiful resort disappeared in the 45 minutes I stood in line to check in. By the time I reached the desk, I was in agony from standing in flip-flops on the hard tile floor. I was then given vague directions to my room. I walked for what felt like an eternity through a maze of hallways and staircases, only to discover that my room was right next to the elevators. Once inside, I found the carpet was damp, the bathroom door was broken, and there was no room service. ¡Ay, Dios mío!

The El Conquistador Resort has all the trappings of an all-inclusive resort, complete with a waterpark, but nothing is included. That evening, I ate dinner at the Brisas Courtyard Cafe. I had the churrasco with rice and beans and ripe plantains, and it gave me a better outlook on the resort.

The next morning, I took the funicular down to the marina.

At the bar, I saw a woman sitting by herself, sipping a mimosa and looking every bit like a member of The Hammock Society. I walked over, said hi and ordered a mimosa of my own while I waited for the ferry to Palomino Island, a private island that’s part of the resort.

During the short ferry ride, storm clouds seemed to materialize out of nowhere. A light drizzle started as we approached the beach, so I made my way to the restaurant for lunch, hoping it was a passing shower and my beach day wouldn’t be lost to rain.

Within minutes of finishing my lunch, the sun was out again, and I was able to enjoy the beach.

The water was a little too cold and had too much seaweed for my liking. I thought about all the beautiful beaches I could have been on. But here I was, fighting with sargassum in Puerto Rico.

Back on the sand, I made friends with a rooster. I couldn’t tell if it was a pet or a future meal. I figured, I’d better treat it nicely. I remembered my Puerto Rican neighbors from when we lived in the Bronx. They raised chickens, so we’d wake to a crowing rooster every morning, as though we were back in the Caribbean.

I fell asleep to the warmth of the sun on my wet skin. For the first time since I started this trip, I began to feel like I was actually decompressing.

The next morning, I wanted to follow up on that feeling. I booked a spa treatment and went to the pool to wait for my appointment. The El Conquistador is a family resort, so there were children everywhere. Most were in the waterpark, though, so I was able to enjoy the pool and relax on the pool deck in relative serenity.

Signs of the rebuilding after Hurricane Maria were all around me. The guest rooms closest to the pool had been damaged by the storm and were still under repair. I wondered what the resort might have looked like before, and what it would look like in the future. I probably wouldn’t return to find out, because that check-in process is one I’d rather not repeat.

Soon it was time for my massage. I couldn’t wait to get relief from my neck and shoulder pain. The spa experience was lovely, complete with complimentary champagne, but the massage itself was disappointing.

That evening, my last night, I dined under the stars at Café Bella Vista, then went back to my room to binge-watch Poker Face. I had an early flight the next morning and debated whether to go to sleep or pull an all-nighter. Sleep won.

If I hadn’t been so bone-tired, I would have stayed at the Fairmont. I really liked its location on the beach and being close to town. Still, the El Conquistador was just lovely, with stunning views, great restaurants and easy access to the ferries to Culebra and Vieques. Had I booked a longer stay, I would have organized a couple of day trips. I might even have bought one of the excursions the representative at the concierge desk was so eager to sell me.

I would absolutely visit Puerto Rico again someday, but not to decompress.

My flight home was on Delta, and even though I was in economy this time, I found this lovely note from the flight crew on my seat. ❤️

THE HAMMOCK SOCIETY TRAVEL TIP

I used Travel and Leisure GO for all my hotel bookings in Puerto Rico, but I wouldn’t recommend this service. I canceled my membership the minute I got home.