Not what I expected, this. Not that I really expected any particular thing, having managed to find precious little information about the island anywhere. But we're heading to a huge bridge over an oil refinery, just after the desalination plant, then head a sharp right.
I'm at the Kurá Hulanda Hotel, highly recommended from all I'd read, and at a very good price, thanks to Expedia. The complex is a hotel, a cultural centre, museum, conference centre and several restaurants and cafés all in an area of town that was up until recently derelict, but renovated by a man called Jacob Gelt Dekker. It is pristine and stunning. The low, colonial-style buildings are painted in bright colours, and the exceptionally friendly staff give my jetlagged self the grand tour before settling me in. I'm impressed! The room itself is also done out in colonial style (although thankfully without colonial bathroom facilities) in cool, dark shades, with what I assume is antique-style, rather than antique, furniture. I don't think the Dutch of the 19 century built television cabinets. I could be wrong though, they're a forward-thinking people.
It's about time for sleep, and sleep I do, in the huge bed, chilled by the wonderful air-conditioning...
There's too much to give details of the 6 days I spent in Curaçao, but I can summarise.
The hotel surpassed my expectations on every count. The food (particularly at the Astrolab Observatory restaurant) was excellent, and not too badly priced by local standards. The star, food-wise, however, was the restaurant opposite the hotel, the Gouverneur de Rouville, which served me a red snapper in thyme and rosemary (with some roast vegetables and a gratin dauphinois) that had me licking my lips for the rest of the holiday. The staff at the hotel had that rare skill that I appreciate so much, which is the ability to judge the level of familiarity it is appropriate to take with a person. I'm Scottish, I'm hardly one for formality. After a couple of days, it went from 'sir' to 'Mr xxxxxxx' to 'Hey, Stut, how are you!', which was just right for me
They sorted out diving and car hire for me with no effort at all, despite the difficulties in getting something for the next day when it was all booked out. Basically, they did everything they could to make my stay fantastic. I could go on lavishing praise on this hotel, but I think you get the gist by now.
The diving, well, it was my first time. At their recommendation, I went to Ocean Encounters (who seem to be the big boys on the island) who were very good. They sorted out a medical consultation for my back problems (no problem), I did the introduction dive, and loved it, despite a bit of claustrophobia. Judging from what I saw underwater, it must be a great place for diving. Then, when the others from the introduction dive dropped out, they were happy to give me one-to-one tuition at the same price. They were friendly, sociable and patient, and even made a point of undercharging me when my claustrophobia prevented me from going to any depth and completing the course. Yup, I got a little uncomfortable underwater, but it's an experience I'm really glad to have had. I'm going to work on that claustrophobia: I want to do this again!
Willemstad is a sprawling town, with the centre commonly known by its two parts: Punda and Otrobanda. It's the kind of place that looks like it's faded grandeur is back on the up again. Punda features some find Dutch colonial buildings (the waterfront looking more like Amsterdam than the Caribbean), and the two sides are linked by a bizarre and wonderful floating bridge. There's good (and cheap) shopping to be done here. It has it's seedy side, but, for what it's worth, that's not a bad thing. This is a real, working town. It's not there for the tourists. Curaçao has its industry and its culture and to me, that makes it far more interesting than a resort destination.
Beaches, well, I'm no big fan of beaches. Billy Connolly once did a whole long routine on why Scottish people hate beaches, and I have to say, I agree with him. I couldn't put it as well as he did, but the gist is this: look into any Scot's family photo album, and you'll see a picture of them all, huddled under a blanket, on the beach, in the driving rain and bitter cold, with Dad, who'd insisted you were all going there and were going to enjoy yourselves, struggling to take the photo before the lens mists up. Well, maybe I'm not that bad, but I can't sit still on a beach all day. It took all the effort I could muster to stay on one island for 6 days. But it's not really and island for beaches. Yes, there's some beautiful little coves, where I went, drank some ice tea and relaxed with a book for a couple of hours. But it's not surrounded by pearly white sand. Which is probably why I liked it. There are some lovely places to be seen around the island, and hiring a car to explore it is definitely worthwhile. I spent a lovely couple of days, just driving from place to place, stopping for a drink and a read, and driving on... And one rather bizarre moment being driven by a typically sociable Curaçaoan woman to an out-of-town children's bookshop to buy a map.
I also had the pleasure of being there for the dia di banda, the 20th anniversary of the Curaçao flag. There were celebrations all day, starting off with a suitably pompous ceremony, and ending up with live music, food and drink everywhere. The whole island was in Otrobanda, and it was great.
I don't think the island could have entertained me for more than a week, given my nature, but 6 days was perfect. I left for the airport with a big smile and deep sense of relaxation...
An enduring memory? Driving along a coast road through a suburb of brightly-painted, cheerful yet ramshackle houses, as the sun set in brilliant red, listening to the local radio station segue strangely from it's Latino-Caribbean music into 'Oranje is, Oranje blijft'...