Shedding layers

Departing YUL

So, it turns out that we don't need three hours to check in for a flight to Guadeloupe on Christmas Day. Security was a breeze, though I did have to take off my right boot - yes, only my right boot, the left was less suspicious looking I guess. With only 1h45m, we still had time to walk the entirety of the international terminal, twice, get coffee at Java U, relax in a quiet corner AND change gates at the last minute! And with time to spare!

Guadeloupe covered in clouds today

Flying in over Deshaies and ite beaches

Five hours of uneventful flight later...

You can tell we've done all of this before. As expected, no one is holding up a sign with my name on it at the arrivals gate of the airport, ready to whisk us off to the rental company. Nope, instead we saunter our way out of the airport, stopping at a surprisingly-open grocery store to buy the essentials: rum and guava juice. We head to the rental companies shuttle parking and wait. Someone will come, eventually. We know they will - but this is Guadeloupe. There's no rush, we will get there. Sure enough, we see a van circle the parking with "Guadaloc", and several other names, on it, and soon we are approaching a woman with a list, and she is ushering us over to a man, who leads us to the van and loads our luggage in the back. No worries.

We rely on our inner homing beacon to guide us to Trois Rivieres. This is the fourth time we've travelled here, staying the same town, slept in the same Airbnb. We watch the palm trees and banana trees whizz by, the rain clouds hang low on the volcano as the occasional drops hit the windshield, then make way for sunbeams to filter through. Arriving at the familiar big green wall that surrounds the rental property, we meet up with Marie Odile, who gives us the abridged tour of the house, as we know all of its secrets by now - in fact we had even installed the microwave on our last visit. She suggests we take a walk to the local grocery store, as it, too, is surprisingly open today. We shed a few layers, letting the warmth and humidity of the Caribbean kiss our skin, and head back out, to pick up milk, and bananas, and some tomato paste to make dinner even better.

I planned for the eventuality that nothing would be open today, and so our gourmet Christmas dinner is reminiscent of another time when we had little to eat and no stores open, back in Faro, Portugal, and we made do with what we found left behind by previous occupants in the pantry at that Airbnb, and so we lovingly call the dish "Portuguese Pasta": In olive oil, I sauté lots of garlic, then add a can or two of tuna in oil, allowing the flavours to blend. I toss in the cooked pasta, and continue to cook the dish, letting the pasta toast in the oil and get little crunchy bits. This time, I stirred in a couple of spoonfuls of the sun-dried tomato paste, as I had packed everything else at home so we wouldn't starve tonight. We sit on the front stoop, all the doors and windows open to let in the warm tropical air, sipping rum punch and munching on spicy pecans(warmed by the sun), and enjoying the simple pasta meal and the garden. 

It feels as though, as I shed the heavy jeans and shirt from the plane ride and put on a light dress, I was shedding all of the stress and anxiety and weight that has been building up, weighing me down, over the last couple of months, and all of a sudden, I could stand up straight and breathe again. And I knew that this was the right decision for us this year. Yes, all of the adventuring and discovery is wonderful, but so is the feeling of freedom, and levity, and it tastes just as sweet as the Christmas cookies and cherry loaf that we finished the night with. Early. Like 8 pm early. Because travel days are always killers, and now it is time to relax.