The Bent Page

Let’s go back to Aruba for a minute. In this post I have a few pictures of San Nicolaas, the town where most of my novel, An Island Away, takes place. These photos aren’t the greatest but they show an authentic Caribbean town that has yet to be taken over by huge resorts mobbed by trinket trollers. It’s tough to put tourist infrastructure here given the presence of the oil refinery that stands shoulder to shoulder with the town. I don’t mind oil refineries. I used to work on tugboats and much of our work was done around the tankers and docks at refining facilities.

This first photo was taken on Rogersstraat looking to the south, southeast.

There’s no glamor here but plenty of character. I first came to this street in 1994. At the end, just out of the frame, is the main gate to the refinery. On the left are a series of bars. There is a Chinese restaurant in American Bar. The old guy that used to cook there (he passed away in 2007) would make “anything soup” for my pals and I at about three in the morning. Further down was another bar called Tropicana. A guy I knew only as Mikey used to own it. My friend Rob caught some fish during one of our trips. We fried up the fish, fed Mikey, his wife, and everyone in the bar that night. What a good time!

Here’s another shot, this one of Main Street, looking south. It was taken in December; that’s why the Christmas decorations are up.

Again, you may be thinking that there is nothing remarkable in the frame. The fact that there isn’t is testament to the authenticity of this town. So many places in the Caribbean have been sterilized, as if a tourist sees an equipment rental shop or a repair garage or a bottling works they’ll go screaming back to the cruise ship. I don’t believe that. I find daily life interesting. It’s not the same the world over. There are different customs, different beliefs, different ways of doing what we all need done. Seeing the mechanics of a society doesn’t turn me off from exploring their cultural triumphs. I appreciate that we all have to get our hands dirty. (Mea cupla here: Charlie’s Bar is just past that tree, but it was a sailor bar before becoming tourist shrine, so that doesn’t count.)

Here’s on more, further down Main Street:

The tall pastel colored building on the left used to be the Hotel Marchena. On a website called Lago-Colony.com I found a travel brochure for Aruba from 1954. It advertised rates at the Marchena for $8 -$10 single and $15 – $17 double. It also mentioned that Aruba was only “four hours from Miami.” Today, travel time from Miami is a little more than two hours fifteen minutes. From New York City, a flight lasts a little more than four hours. My, how times have changed.

In future posts, I’ll be documenting the people and businesses I frequently visit in Aruba. Without exception, I have been welcomed to these places with gracious hospitality, and I’m grateful to everyone for doing so. They allow me into their lives, providing a never ending stream of story material. My only wish is that I live long enough to write it all down.

I’d like to hear about the places you’ve been and experiences you had there. Please leave comments, links, or both.