Getting away from it all

Sometimes one of the best ways to preserve your sanity in New York is to leave it behind for a while and escape to somewhere else.  Fortunately, there are loads of places close to the City that will give you just the break you need.

In my case, I recently swapped the island of Manhattan for two other islands not so far away - St Kitts and Nevis, located in the West Indies, a little less than 4 hours direct flight from JFK.

And while I only enjoyed a six-day break, the heat and hospitality were the most fantastic tonics to a dreary and seemingly endless New York winter.

For the next little while, allow me to share with you an unashamedly detailed write-up of my sun-soaked adventure.  We might have to spread this write-up over a few days, but I am confident you'll bear with me.

Saturday - Departure Day
After two heinous weeks at work, surviving on very little sleep and wrestling with a shorter-than-usual fuse, I was so relieved to wake up early on Saturday morning with the smugness that only comes with the knowledge that you are staring head-long into a week of holidays.

Rather uncharacteristically for me, I hadn't even thought about packing for my Caribbean adventure.  But I figured that six days of sun and sand wouldn't require a lot in the way of wardrobe, so I dug out all my floaty, summery tops and dresses, and before long my little suitcase and I were ready to go.

My travelling companions for this summery jaunt were S-West and her husband, Kitty (who grew up on St Kitts and has been keen to share his homeland with me for a long time).

We got to JFK Airport a few hours early for our flight and it was a bit of a dead zone, but that just meant that check-in and security screening were all smooth sailing.  Lunch and a couple of pre-flight beers at "Bobby Vans" and we were on our way.

Because I had booked separately, I wasn't able to get seats with S-West and Kitty but I was OK with that, given the flight was only short and I was pretty sure I would fall asleep soon after take-off anyway.  Indeed, no sooner had the plane reached its cruising altitude and I nodded off.  I awoke to become almost instantly irritated with the two ladies sitting in my row, both of whom were New Jersey's answer to "Shirley Valentine".  They were even trying to chat up the young (and admittedly very good-looking) Kittitian guy sitting across the aisle from us.

St Kitts Airport

A little over three hours later, at around 8pm, we arrived in Basseterre, the capital of the Federation of St Kitts and Nevis.  Disembarking from our American Airlines plane, we actually walked across the tarmac to the immigration hall of the Robert L Bradshaw International Airport (more about Mr Bradshaw later).  The wall of heat that met us as we left the plane was heavenly.  It was a night-time heat mixed with the most beautiful sea breeze you've ever felt.  Blissful to know that the polar vortex was far behind us now.

While Kitty queued up in the residents line of the immigration hall, S-West and I inched forward at a glacial pace through the most congested visitors line you've ever seen.

The population of St Kitts and Nevis is only about 54,000 people and because we were staying with a resident family, we knew that people would know Kitty was home before long.  Sure enough, when S-West and I finally made it to the immigration agent, we had to confirm where we would be staying during our visit.  When we gave Kitty's address, the immigration lady's surly expression softened in recognition, and she actually smiled at us.  We had arrived.

Kitty's mum and sister had come to the airport in their cars to greet us and I can't tell you how amazing it felt to take the 10-15 minute car ride to Kitty's family home, with the front passenger window down and the sea breeze blasting in.

Heading up the stairs into Kitty's childhood home, we were treated to our first of many displays of Kittitian hospitality.  Kitty's mum had made it her mission to ensure I sampled as many of the local delicacies as possible (as if I would ever complain about that!).  So at around 9pm, we sat down for a light meal of local fare.  Kitty's mum had prepared a traditional rice/beans/chicken dish (alternately called pelau or cookup), some tasty local fish, boiled sweet potato, some white potato salad, and a delicious stew called "goat water" (a hearty dish that Kitty assured me is amazing to line your stomach before a heavy night of drinking).  Our beverages of choice were similarly local: Carib shandies (ginger and sorrel varieties), the grapefruit soft drink called Ting, and a bubbly pear-flavoured drink called Peardrella.

After such an hospitable welcome and start to our island adventure, it's not surprising that I fell asleep almost as soon as my head hit the pillow - to the soothing sounds of the crickets chirping outside, and the occasional belch of an unseen frog.  No traffic or people sounds at all.

New York City really did seem half a world away.