After receiving 3 or 4 completely different directions for getting to the only Internet access on Little Corn Island, we traipsed through the jungle to the East side of the island and after ten minutes came to a tiny Gilligan Island style hut with two old computers. We paid $12 an hour to use the computer. It was a necessity at the time, because we were selling a house. Many other times we walked across the island through the jungle only to find it closed, or the Internet down.
The setting at the Internet hut was a very neat and tidy fenced compound called Casa Iguana, with small cabanas on the jungle cliff overlooking the ocean, and a popular place for American tourists.
The view from the little restaurant at Casa Iguana was mesmerizingly beautiful with stunning emerald/turquoise water across a large bay.
From below on the beach looking up at the Internet Hut.
This was the backpacking side of the island and as we walked further down the beach, we found three extremely rustic cabana hotels, with bamboo post walls, nice white beds, but outdoor toilets, and a barrel of water with a bucket, for about $5-10 per night.
While the ocean was stunningly gorgeous on this side and the sand like fine powder, the beach and shoreline were thick with slimy seaweed.
We were so glad we were on the West side of the island, and absolutely adored our perfect private beaches a little further North on the West side of the island.
We returned to our hotel. It was another “wild” Saturday night on this little Caribbean island. 9:30 pm and all was silent except for a few barking dogs.
The next day we found another smooth flat lava rock on our idylic private beaches on the northwest side of the island. It was remarkably more comfortable than a beach bed, and with just enough water lapping over it to keep one cool on a 30 plus-degree day.
Later that afternoon, full of salt and sand, we were anxious to shower when we returned to the hotel.
We tiptoed into the room and into the shower stall in our bathing suits so as not to drop sand all over our room.
There was no water pressure at all, so we had to wait for the little doggy bowl to drip full, and then pour it over ourselves, but there was so much sand stuck to our skins that only soap would loosen it.
We lathered up, covered in soap from head to foot, and waited for the bowl of water to fill again.
Just at that moment, the power went out. We were standing in the shower in our sandy bathing suits in the pitch dark covered with soap! Ahhh, the perils of Island Life…
So in the dark, we stood there, waiting for bowlfuls of water to slowly fill, then poured them over each other in the dark, giggling at our strange predicament.
Cold-water showers were not as bad as one might expect because the water was lukewarm, and after a hot day at the beach, the cool water was lovely.
It was a pure freeing time that we spent on the island. No make-up, just sunglasses, hat and bathing suit was all one needed, and perhaps a long beach dress for dinner, black cotton pants and a light shirt for T.
On the third or fourth day on Little Corn, we noticed that our walking pace had reduced by half.
There was no TV and no power between midnight and 6 pm, and often intermittent between 6 pm and midnight.
The days went fast even though we didn’t do much. Our days looked like this: breakfast, a long walk to another part of the island, go to the beach for the hot afternoon, shower, dress for dinner, have dinner, sit on the porch, read or write, go to bed. Most nights we were asleep before 10 pm.
Some days we just sat on the back porch with a cool breeze and a good book. This was our To Do List for one of those days:
– buy cue tips and mouth wash (decided to do tomorrow)
– go to the internet hut (was down the first time, closed the second time)
– eat lunch (downstairs)
– find a wedge stick to fix the rattly window that wakes us up when there is a wind (found one ten steps away along the back of the hotel near the jungle)
– maybe check the little Arts & Crafts shop (took five minutes)
Then after that, we had to shower with the bowl again, dress for dinner, and go out to eat. Such a busy day.
Another day we decided to sit on “our” beach chairs just in front of the hotel. To our horror some arrogant touristos had the gall to not only move our chairs, but had the impudence to SIT in them as well! “Cads, ne’re-do-wells, bounders, thieves and scoundrels!” muttered T.
We asked about washing clothes, and the cook, Erika, offered to do our laundry for 150 Cordoba ($8). We happily accepted, but then felt bad as we watched her outside in the hot sun scrubbing each piece by hand.
Yet another day we rented snorkel gear and life jackets for $10 each, and walked to the East side of the island where the best snorkeling spots are, nearly passing out in the heat through the jungle. In the end, we couldn’t handle going into all those slimy weeds.
Walking all the way back to the West side of the island to our favourite beaches where the water is clear and clean, we did a bit of snorkeling, but further out there was nothing to see but seaweeds. We spent the rest of the afternoon sitting under the shade of a Banyan tree with the water lapping at our feet. Very relaxing.
A Great Commotion
One quiet afternoon, there was a great commotion. People were running down the path in front of the hotel. Others were laughing and talking with great excitement.
“Da boat.. da boat!” they shouted. The supply boat was in! What enthusiasm. A refreshing breath of energy engulfed everyone on the island. We rushed down to the wharf with everyone else. It was the biggest event of the week.
Box after box was unloaded. Animated local men jumped on to help unload the boat, and everyone was glowing with an exuberant vigour. It brought newness and connection to the isolated island.
We started asking for coffee on the back porch every morning too, because we were too lazy to go down to the dining room.
People were busy on the island, but always had time to rest…
We also got tired of going to the beach everyday.
Imagine! The most beautiful beach we had ever seen….
…. all to ourselves, and we were too lazy to go.
The truth was we were getting bored.
Maybe it was time to leave…
On our last day, we walked back to our favourite beaches on the North West side of the island, this time walking further. Around the last bend, we were shocked to see not just one, but two shipwrecks, just off shore. It made one pause to think about how the boats crashed, and if the people were able to get to shore.
On our last night, we watched another gorgeous sunset…
And they did have a little party for us. The local girls, not surprisingly, are fantastic dancers. Erika, the cook, could really “shake it up”. She was hilarious too. We danced and laughed and listened to the music into the night. It was a sweet goodbye.
We will always have a soft spot for Little Corn Island….