For a long time my family, and especially my father, dreamt of sailing in the British Virgin Islands. Last week we realized that dream. We sailed from island to island, idyllic beach to idyllic beach, wonder to wonder. It felt like a completely separate reality, an alternate universe. At one point I just started laughing like a Mad Hatter because, try as I might, I could NOT believe I really was there. Either it didn’t exist or I didn’t. I wasn’t even sure who I was. All that mattered was that beach.
The BVIs are particularly well suited for this type of travel as the islands are all relatively very close together. We visited six in a week. Today, I want to tell you about Virgin Gorda, named so supposedly by Columbus who, classy guy he was, thought the island looked like a fat woman on her side. But I digress. My point is that Virgin Gorda is home to a small national park known as The Baths.
Have you ever wanted to be 10 years old again? To run wild and climb all over stuff and splash around in pools of warm water and make sand castles out of perfectly white sand? This dream can come true. The Baths are a wonder made up of enormous boulders nature somehow managed to stack on top of each other making makeshift caves right by the waters edge. A pathway of sorts leads you through a labyrinth of crevices and caverns, and it didn’t matter whether the people I saw were eight or eighty, they all had the same broad grin stretched across their face. All the inner children come out to play at The Baths. God made us a playground, and none of us were going to waste it.
Here are some pictures of our explorations of The Baths. They hardly do it justice. I just wanted to make sure you all added this place to your list of dream destinations. After all, travel is one of the best tonics to stimulate our imaginations. The world is big and fascinating and beautiful! Get going!