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.