Today: On a warmer day… on Virgin Gorda.

Welp, it’s cold (again).  It is, after all, January in Boston.  I am wearing layers and layers and reminiscing about a much warmer day, no so long ago, when Nick and jumped ship small boat and swam to shore at Devil’s Bay, Virgin Gorda.  Perhaps a look at some of the 5,004 photos I took (with my snazzy underwater-friendly Nikon, which I bought as a wedding present… to myself) will help warm us up.

virgin gorda

Virgin Gorda, one of the British Virgin Islands, was about an hour by power boat from St. John.  We made stopped en route at Tortola to clear customs, which was a bit terrifying, as our first mate had to take our passports and go ashore without us while we waited for the all clear to pick her up.  I like to know where my passport is at all times.  And who’s touching it.  And potentially making counterfeit copies of it (True Life: I watch too many spy and cop shows).  Soon enough, though, we were on our way.

As much as I like to plan and be bossy, I got bogged down with wedding details as the big day approached and left the honeymoon to Nick (he did an incredible job).  While I intended to be helpful in researching day trips, restaurants, and beaches, I mostly saw one photo of Virgin Gorda and said, “We neeeeeeed to go there.”  And then went back to writing out place cards.

If you’re in the neighborhood, say on St. John or St. Thomas, a day trip to The Baths at Virgin Gorda is a must.  The baths are incredible ancient rock formations (baths is short for batholith, I think… not bathtub) that line the shore, creating turquoise salt water pools and tranquil caves that beg to be explored.  As mesmerizing as the photos I found online were, I wasn’t prepared for how amazing they would be in person.  I was captivated long before we got to shore, my mouth hanging open (and my snorkel tube thing taking on water).  They are just gorgeous.

Were the baths to be found in American territory, I am certain we would have been required to…

  • sign some sort of waiver
  • wear a helmet
  • pay admission

Being elsewhere, however, we were able to literally swim up to the rocks, ditch our fins and snorkels and make our way along the sandy path leading through the baths.

We spent a few hours climbing up and over rocks, swimming in tidal pools, and watching the ocean water rush in between the giant boulders.  It was, simply put, magical – the perfect playground for my overactive imagination and often distracting curiosity.

I didn’t want to leave, but we sort of had to.  From a warmer day on Virgin Gorda, to a much colder day in Boston, it’s good to have pictures like these to remind us how incredible the world is.  And how lucky we are to be able to explore it.  And that it’s sort of okay to hand your passport over to an unseen stranger.

Also On Tap for Today:

If you could visit anywhere tomorrow (assuming you’d take today to pack up fabulous outfits), where would you go? 

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