Getting to Bonaire

We woke up refreshed but knowing this would be mostly another travel day. I was having some anxiety about dealing with the car because of the lack of trust and friendliness when we rented it. Would they suddenly find a bunch of new scratches and demand I pay for them on the spot?  I was also anxious about the DAE airline.  I had been told that they were flaky, routinely canceling flights.

We enjoyed our last breakfast at B&B Blenchi, feeling lucky we had discovered this gem.  We packed up our room, checked out with Marit and loaded the car (a Suzuki). 

We had some time to kill since checkout was at 11:00am and our flight was at 3:00pm.  We decided on a small side trip to a place that the map said was a flamingo habitat.  We turned right where we would normally go straight and within 10 minutes we were in Williwood.  Actually that is someone's affectionate name for St. Willibrordus but the Hollywoodesque sign demand a stop for Mary to grab a photo. Moments later a body of water beside the road revealed a bunch of flamingoes. Perhaps we were looking at 20 of them but they were pink and squawking like geese and they were in the wild, not in a zoo and not plastic lawn ornaments.

We watched them for a while, attempting to take pictures, but an iPad is simply not a birder's camera. If you look at the photo below, those specks behind Mary's shoulder are flamingoes. Really.

After that mini adventure, we decided to get gas and maybe lunch and then head for the airport and return the car a little early in case there were hassles.

Now we'd only seen a couple of gas stations on the trip. We made our way to the one that was closest to the airport (which was none too close) and I turned into the drive- too late did I notice the dingy "do not enter" symbol and I was surprised to hear a siren go off.  Was I going to get nailed by the cops? No, apparently there is some detector that senses wrong way entry. This was only one of many gas station cultural gaffs I was about to commit.

There was no way to tell how much gas gas was going to cost because the pump displayed Guilders and who knows at what unit of measurement gasoline is dispensed.  We were told at the time of rental that the car uses "super gas". I had thought that was just another way to gouge us by insisting on premium but the only choices at the pump were supergas, diesel, and kerosine. So no problem there.  But where was the credit card reader? I stuck the spout in the tank and tried to dispense but nothing happened. Must be pre-pay. I guess I would need to talk to the lady in the window behind bars and thick glass. When it was my turn, I said, "pump six."  

She said, "no, you are parked the wrong way." 

I turned to look and sure enough, all the cars were facing the station except mine, which I had pulled in American style to accommodate the gas cap on the driver's side.  So I went back to the car and turned around and faced the station properly like all the other cars and went back to the window. 

"Pump six" I said again, handing her my American Express card.

 "No credit card! Cash only!", She implored.

I decided to give her a US twenty dollar bill and see what that got me.  I went back to the pump but squeezing the trigger nothing happened. I returned to the window.

"You must remove the spout from your car first", she told me.

Apparently, she could not reset the pump unless the spout was in the holster. I returned the spout, waited 10 seconds and then tried again.  This time it dispensed 35 guilder's worth.

I turned the key and was shocked to see the needle slowly make its way up to full.  Apparently those Suzukis are pretty fuel efficient.  Either that or gas is cheap. I just had to return it 7/8's full so I was relieved.

We considered finding a place for lunch but it was really hard to choose between all the unappealing restaurant fronts. All seemed to have very little signage and walk-up counters with metal bars. We finally decided to just eat the remains of our groceries that had been supplied by Marit, at the airport, after first returning the car and getting that potential ordeal behind us.

The rental car return was not so bad. It was the same two unfriendly guys at the counter but they did not scrutinize the car for new scratches and soon we had a receipt and were rolling our luggage to the Dutch Antilles Express counter for early check in.

Trouble was, there was no DAE counter. We eventually asked a security person and he pointed to an empty counter and said, "They're not here yet. Try coming back at 1:30."

So we found some chairs and ate our hard boiled eggs and tortilla chips while we waited.  At 1:30, I checked and there was still no line at the empty counter. But at 1:40, a DAE logo had appeared on the monitor over the counter and a small line had formed. We got in it and struck up a conversation with a friendly Dutch Lady who lived on Curacao and was accompanying  her friend back to Bonaire. The line was moving very slow and we covered several topics including how hot it would be in Bonaire.

"There is no shade", she said. "You must be careful to protect your fair skin at all times or you will risk ruining your vacation."

All went smoothly from there. The pleasant man at the counter said, "How would you like some seats up front? Row 4, window seats?"

I thought that sounded delightful.

And it would have been great except the large prop plane was only about a 10th full. Everyone had a window seat. The plane also loaded and unloaded from the back so the front seats would be the last off the plane. We tried to make our way to row 4 but the flight attendant stopped us at about row 12 and said, "We are not looking at seat assignments today".

After a refreshingly retro demonstration of the safety features including all the classic hand gestures, by our immaculately- groomed, perfectly tailored flight attendant, we were off 15 minutes early. Bonaire was only a 15 minute flight and before we knew it we were landing. Customs was a breeze. We made are way out into the heated outdoors and immediately spotted a taxi with our name on it. Literally.  The "Bonaire Fun Apartments" had indeed sent someone out to pick us up. The man holding the sign that said, "Peterson" was named, "Broertje" which is Dutch for "brother". He was fantastic! We set right offhand he showed us where the good places to eat were and also the hot spots to hear music, get groceries and access the beach.

Bonaire was completely different from Curacao. Much more friendly and laid back. The Main Street had storefronts and restaurants that were recognizable as such. It looked very walkable and enticing.

At the Bonaire Fun Apartments we were introduced to "Inge" who did check-ins and also ran the outdoor bar. She got us settled first in a cozy apartment with living room, kitchen, bedroom, bathroom and outdoor patio behind a gated courtyard and then oriented us at the bar while we drank bottled, $2.50 Amstel beers. At 10 ounces, they were the perfect size for me.

With marked up map in hand, we went out to explore the waterfront and its clean, crystal clear waters, and find the closest appealing restaurants. We were informed that mosquitos would become a problem at dusk and were encouraged to wear long pants. Shortly, we went back to our apartment to clean up and change. We set out again and eventually settled on an Argentinian restaurant, which turned out to be an excellent choice. Mary got the "surf and turf" which was shrimp and a perfectly broiled Argentinean steak, and I had an  off-the-menu order of ceviche (raw fish marinated in lime juice with onions and peppers); a fantastic meal served by friendly people.

We made it back to the apartment just as the mosquitoes were coming out so we barricaded our doors, turned on a big floor fan and chilled, reading Bonaire literature until bed time.