Men: I am in St Maartin with limited internet access.
The good: The entire island is Duty Free. Beer, liquor and tobacco is SUPER cheap. Weather is 85 and sunny every single day. Half the island is dutch and the other half French, so very good international food.
The bad: The locals all think they are Jay Z gangsters all of the sudden. Local lady told us that gang crime is on the rise. Typical carribean negatives, big potholes and dogs walking around. No sidewalks.
Overall rating: 6-6.5 You get a pretty good bang for your buck, but I probablly wouldnt return unless in a big group. Also NOTHING for kids at all.
American express starwood upped their sign up promotion. Email me at firstname.lastname@example.org for a referrel.
It's day five of the fifth trip to our island. We don't yet have any sort of permanent structure, so even with cots, sleep isn't perfect. And there's the irregular meal schedule, the hard work, and the lack of good hygiene. All of these factors wear you down a little bit as the days go on.
Today we were all exhausted. We woke up early, but no one made a move to get done the things which needed doing. We punted around through the forest looking for good branches for torches, our latest obsession, but mostly we waited until it was time to leave the island.
We had scheduled a tour at 2:30 at Oak Island, which is just a couple hours away. The tour group was surprisingly large, maybe fifty people or so. We hiked all throughout the island, learning about it and seeing firsthand some of the strange clues pointing towards possible treasure.
As we hiked in the heat on the island, I noticed that I was really lagging. Mentally, I wasn't all there. Physically, I was tired. By the end, the three of us were sitting down while the guide talked. We were the only ones not to stand.
We were out on one of our Saturday jaunts with no particular place to go, when I spotted an intriguing feature on the map. (This is why I prefer maps to GPS, which doesn't give the big picture view of the territory to the left and right of your current trajectory.) #icelandsecret
There seemed to be a bridge or road or some sort of connection to an offshore island off Route 1 northeast of Reykjavik in a town called Grafarvogur.
Now some might argue that if there's a road, it can't be an island. But if it's a causeway that's under water at high tide, I respectfully insist that it is, at least some of the time, surrounded by water, the very definition of an island. And this distinction is essential to my assertion that we actually did what the title of this post says we did. The causeway is a rough, lava-strewn strip with a rocky beach on either side, but it was passable at low tide.
The second "island" in the title refers to the fact that Iceland is an island. There should be no quibbling about that.