St. Lucia 2017: Mournful Doves and Mornings in Paradise

On July 21, 2017, Mom and I arrived in sweet St. Lucia at about half past three in the afternoon, local time, for our annual summer getaway. We had a delicious dinner that first night and a really nice evening with the crickets singing. The next morning, I picked up my recorder, and for ten mornings in a row I kept my diary from the balcony of our really nice room, usually just before we went down for breakfast.

This year, my diary has a star, and it is not a person. It is a dove.

Our Lovey Dove

On our very first morning, I heard some doves, although I was not sure where they were. By the next morning, a Sunday, at about quarter to seven, I could hear them going with their sound as I sat on our balcony. From then on, the doves became part of our morning ritual. Mom even called them our lovey dove.

I find doves so mournful. On July 27, Mom and I sat and listened to them together. Then, on the morning of July 29, we heard something very interesting: one dove calling, and another one answering him. “I don’t know if he calling his mate or what,” Mom said, “but somebody’s answering him.” I laughed, and we listened as the two of them called back and forth.

And then, on July 30, the doves were gone. “What about our lovey dove?” Mom asked. I could hear the other birds, and music somewhere in the background, but no doves at all. It’s strange, I said. I waited a little longer, but nothing. Where were they? Neither of us knew.

On our final morning, I thought I heard them again, and I tried my best to capture them on my recorder. “Come on, guys. Make noise,” I told them. I am not sure they listened.

Mornings on the Balcony

From July 24 on, I asked Mom each morning what she could see out there, and she told me. There were boats and yachts in the bay, sometimes plenty of them, and sailboats rather than fishing boats. Some mornings the sea was very still. Some mornings there were swimmers, or folks walking along the beach, or joggers. On one morning, Mom reported that a lady already had her bikini on.

I added what I could hear: the waves rolling in against the shore, the breeze springing up, and the birds. Twice, I was woken up early by the horn of a boat, once at around four in the morning. One morning there was a big shower at about four o’clock. On another, I heard a rooster crowing, and I could smell breakfast. “You smell the bacon,” Mom said. I certainly did!

On July 27, Mom told me about something she had noticed since the day before: a string of little balls right in front of us. She thought it might not be safe to swim right in front of us, and I agreed. When there are little balls like that, it’s not safe.

A Little Piece of Paradise

On the morning of July 23, I sat on our balcony and simply listened. How I adore and love the sound of rolling waves as they travel gently towards the shore, and the palm trees as they sway in the breeze, making their very own music. I thanked God for giving me another day to be in sweet St. Lucia, a place I call paradise.

The night before, Mom and I had a wonderful meal at an oriental restaurant, and it was so great to see two of our favourite waitresses again.

Our Final Morning

On July 31, our final day, we had our final breakfast in the dining room, and I asked Mom one last time what she could see. The tide was in, she told me, and people were walking, swimming and relaxing in their chairs on their iPhones. There were boats in the bay, a very nice breeze, and, as Mom pointed out, ladies in their short shorts.

So how would I sum it up? We had a good trip. We ate lots, drank lots and slept. And, as always, until next year.

Finding My Way Around a Hotel Room

As a regular traveller who is vision impaired, I think it is so important to be able to navigate my hotel room easily and quickly. Most hotel rooms seem to be laid out in the same way, so I decide what I need to find. First, the wall outlets, so that I can plug in my devices. Then the closet, so that I can hang up my things, and then the bathroom: the wash basin, the towels, the toilet, the tub and the shower.

I also get the password for the Wi-Fi, and I make sure I can find my own door. I ask the porter how many doors my room is from the elevator, and then I put a piece of masking tape on my door, just above the handle.

From Curb to Cabin

Just a week before this trip, I wrote on my blog about a frightening moment on one of our flights to the Caribbean. Mom and I had just boarded the plane when I checked my carry-on and discovered that my wallet and flash drive were both missing! Mom began a frantic search, and then we asked a passing agent for help. He sprang into action, and within literally seconds he found them, nestled in the seat pocket. Pure relief! I learned to account for every item in my carry-on at all times.

Right after this trip, I wrote about another challenge that never goes away: finding my luggage. I need sighted assistance to locate and fetch my suitcases, usually from agents, so I mark them in ways that anyone helping me can identify. One of my suitcases has a pink Disney tag, and the other has yellow strips of tape all over it. Around then, I had just bought a luggage locator, with a transponder that goes inside my suitcase and a receiver that helps me find it.

My podcast, Curb to Cabin Canada, is about what actually happens to blind and low-vision passengers when they fly, and each episode follows one part of the air travel journey, from the curb outside the terminal to the seat in the cabin.

Previous trip: St. Lucia 2016

Next trip: St. Lucia 2018

All of my trips: Travel Diaries

Donna J. Jodhan, LLB, ACSP, MBA
Global Leader In Disability Rights, Digital Accessibility, And Inclusive Policy Reform
Turning policy into progress for people with disabilities.