Antigua. You can not emigrate until you immigrate

It all started here.

At the start of this cruise, the plan was that I join the Marco Polo at Lisbon on 8th January, and leave it at Barbados on 3rd February.  But the ships itinerary changed (a fact I didn't find out until I received a text from Peter on the train to Luton Airport), and we were to visit Antigua on 3rd Feb and Barbados on 5th Feb.
I couldn't stay any longer than already arranged, so my plan changed.  I decided to leave from Antigua on Friday 3rd February, not Barbados.  Flights hadn't been booked so there wasn't a problem.  Was there?
Reception
Peter and I went to reception to check off the ship and get my passport.  The lass there was quite happy, once the bill was paid, (which still showed that I was due to disembark at Barbados in two days time), confirming there was nothing left for us to do so we then went down deck five to take the walkway off the ship.
Security
The security guy was happy to swipe me off, and I thought I better let them know I wasn't coming back, (so they could keep their passenger count in order and not wait for me).  This caused confusion.  I wasn't on list to leave the ship.  He said I had to go back up reception.  We said we'd already been to reception.  He rang reception, and then told us we had to go back to reception.  Peter got cross.  We went back up to reception. There, a different receptionist was putting down the phone on a call that confirmed everything was done and I could leave the ship.  We went back down to the walkway on deck five and this time the security guy let me leave.
The airport
A quick goodbye to Peter, and then I was in the taxi to the airport.  The traffic was really jammed and slow and I think it must have taken us half an hour to get there. Not a problem, as I had plenty of time.  I went straight to the Virgin Atlantic desk where the girls checked my online booking and gave me my boarding pass.  No luggage, so everything is dead simple.
Emigration
My next stop was to go through a door marked "Emigration"?  Everyone was going through it, including all the holiday makers, so it must be right.  I sort of half noticed some signs about filling in an emigration form and emigration tax.  I waited in line until it was my turn to speak to the guys in the booths and give them my passport.  I was asked for an emigration form.  Huh?  So I had to go find one.  Stocks had run out so I had to go back to the Virgin desk and the girl there helped me fill it in.  I had no idea what I was doing or why.  So now it was back to the emigration desk.
Confusion
They were confused.  I had not immigrated.  Why had I not immigrated?  I explained that I had arrived on a ship that morning.  They called over the supervisor.  She demanded to know why I had not immigrated - everybody immigrated, including people off ships.  I explained I didn't understand and had arrived on a cruise ship that morning.  She softened and became very helpful.  Apparently, because I was leaving the ship permanently, I should have gone through immigration on the quayside.  I could not go out through the emigration desk because I had not immigrated in.  She tried to get my details pushed through airport immigration, but they were having none of it.  They insisted I had to return to the quayside where the ship was docked and get the Port Agent to agree my immigration there.
A mad dash to immigrate
It was now about 4 o'clock.  I went back to the Virgin desk, and explained to the staff that I had to get a taxi back to the quayside, get my immigration approved, and then come back to the airport and I might be running a bit late.  Everybody looked at their watches, concerned.  They took my mobile number so that they could ring me and check on progress, explaining that the last boarding call was at 4.45pm.
I think my stress levels were at their highest whilst waiting in the queue for a taxi (no, they wouldn't let me queue jump).  Once in it, I texted Peter to meet me at the immigration office and that I needed money to pay the taxi fares.  That confused him.  On the phone I explained, so he found the immigration office, and popped in to check that they could deal with me right away.  That was OK.  The taxi driver did his best, but the Caribbean traffic is a nightmare, and the people are very relaxed, nobody hurries as they park, pedestrians don't rush as they cross the road.  I remained calm, but underneath I was absolutely petrified it was all going to go wrong. Did I have enough money to pay for another flight?  When would there be another flight?  What about my train at the other end.? Would I have to go back to the ship?  Would I have to stay overnight?  Where would I stay? Was it safe?
We got to the quayside where Peter was waiting for me. The immigration desk staff were dead relaxed and not in a hurry.  The Port Agent showed up and did whatever he had to do.  I filled in a form, the immigration clerk stamped it, then she stamped my passport and then I was done.
Just in time.
Back in the taxi, the driver made a few nifty moves to get me back as fast as possible. At the airport I went straight to the Emigration desk.  He remembered me, and told me I had plenty of time, but  I could hear the tannoy system making the final calls for my flight.  Through security, (again "This is the final call for Virgin Flight........."),  straight to the departure gate, and there were the Virgin staff I'd seen earlier.  They all remembered me and were pleased that I'd got there.  I texted Peter as I walked to the plane.  "Made it".  What a relief!
England
You'd think that would be it wouldn't you. Nah.  England had it's own tricks in store for me.  For a start, it was absolutely freezing.  -5 degrees C. I was very, very tired, having only managed a few cat naps during the flight.  I had far too much time between my arrival at Gatwick and my train leaving, and it really was cold.  Gatwick railway station was much colder than the airport, so I stayed in the airport until it was time to catch my train.
As I said, it was absolutely freezing and that was the problem.  The signals and the points around Gatwick had all frozen putting the timetable into a state of confusion.  I waited for my train, which displayed as "on time".  But it didn't show.  I ended up on a completely different one which actually worked in my favour.  I ended up at London Bridge, not Victoria as I was supposed to, and got the tube from there.  Good job as it turns out,  the tube trains were in a muddle and the Victoria Line was closed.
Kings Cross Station
Kings Cross wasn't much better.  They had a sort power cut which only effected those areas that I happened to need to use, namely the loos and all the display notices telling you which train is leaving from which platform.  The girl on the information desk was doing a brilliant job, answering everyone's questions and shouting out which train was leaving from where.  I got to my train with plenty of time, and collapsed into my seat.  My daughter would be waiting for me at the other end, ready to take me to Richmond.
Welcome home.

Antigua visit 2011   St John's visit 2012

St Johns, Antigua

Awwwwwwww.  Despite waking up to see the brightly coloured town of St John's before us, today was a sad day.  My last one on the cruise.  My flight is scheduled for 5.30pm from VC Bird airport.  Peter and I planned a wander around St John's in the morning, then lunch back at the ship before I jumped into a taxi at about 3 o'clock. All good to go.  At breakfast, we noticed a slightly larger ship moored beside us, so went out to have a look. I didn't know Thomson's had their own cruise ships? I checked, they have 5 and Thomson Dream parked next door is the largest.

Breakfast finished, we went ashore and took a wander into St John's.  Cruising visitors beware! As soon as you walk off the pier, you are in the "We're gonna get your cash" zone, and they are very good at it.  It is a brilliant little mall of duty free, gift and craft shops, bars with wi-fi, designer clothes, jewellery and liquour stores. Beyond that are loads of little market stalls full of little things you just have to buy.  And I just had to buy.  (Presents of course). Next we saw the local fruit and vegetable markets, and more tourist gift traps.

There, the roads and streets look more as we've come to expect in the Caribbean, a little down and tatty.
We bought a couple of banana's, (I never realised that there are eating bananas and cooking bananas), delicious  Then it was a cold drink each in the bar before we were back on the ship. Lunch, last bits into my rucksack, because Peter is going to bring the suitcases back, go to reception to pay bills, get my passport and make sure there is nothing else to do, and then leave the ship.
Now the fun begins............


St John's visit 2011                         Flying from Antigua 2012

Mayreau in the Grenadines

This one is a small private island amongst the Grenadines in the Caribbean sea between Grenada and St Vincent.  It has a population of 300, one unnamed village, one road, and numerous, almost "shanty" bars.  It has an almost desert like feel, including the cacti, and is very, very hot.  According to one local, it only rains in August.  The real beauty of this place is the green blue sea, the beaches and the surrounding islands.
The first problem for the crew was to get people from the ship to the local catamarans for the tours. The swell of the sea was so bad that the tenders were lifting a good few feet up and down against the ship's platform, making it difficult for even the sure footed to get on. The ship's staff decided it wasn't a good idea to continue, so as soon as they got the touring passengers off, they moved the ship to somewhere more sheltered and with less swell.  This did mean that the rest of us had to wait a while before we were able to go over to the island.

Eventually we got across, and walked straight off the pier to a beautiful white sand beach.  The water here was really, really clear, blue green and inviting. We'd decided to walk the single road, up to the top of the hill to see what there was to see before we went swimming. To be honest, there wasn't much.  As I said, numerous bars and "boutiques" on the roadside, many of them closed.  The houses are typical of the Caribbean, wooden and colourful. At the top of the hill is a delightful little church and a wonderful view of Tobago Cays.

Then we walked down again to take advantage of that glorious beach, spending ages in the cool, clear water.  We were warned to watch out for sea urchins, but the only thing I saw were beautiful white fish in the shallows. 
This place is paradise for those who like yachting and diving, sun, sand, sea and a Caribbean bar.  For us, it was a chance to get sunburnt and enjoy a cold drink in the shade of a tree.

Our fellow passengers returned from their tours, and many of them joined us for a swim.  One or two of them were not quite able to though.  No breakfast and then underestimating the very potent rum punch handed out freely on the tours had a very detrimental effect.  It was funny for onlookers, but maybe not for the wives as these guys were completely out of it, unable to move, speak or focus.  "Chairlift" for me will now forever mean four men carrying a plastic garden chair containing a comatose over-indulger and scuttling as fast as they can towards the tender boats.  Remember the swell problems?  Oh my!  Apparently the crew handled these passengers remarkably well, lifting them straight in and out of the tenders without mishap?  Makes you wonder if they are used to that sort thing?
The ship left Mayreau at about 3 o'clock.  Tomorrow is Antigua and homeward bound. I'm a little bit sad about it.  Did someone say something about snow.........?

St Georges, Grenada

The Grenadines......  Like the Caribbean but not it seems.  The people are very chilled and relaxed.  The sun is hot, the sky is blue, the sea is beautifully clear and the town of St Georges is a very pleasant place to be.  I think the main difference for me in comparison to some of the Caribbean islands we've seen, is that St George's is cleaner, with much less rubbish and generally better maintained.  

The day started with us not being able to fit into the new quayside due to it being occupied by a couple of larger cruise ships.  Good news for us because we got to dock on the side of the old town, which, like all old towns, is very picturesque. It is also appreciated by the more affluent members of society too, judging by the very expensive looking yachts in the marina nearby.  

We were soon ashore and had a wander around the quayside. I was fascinated by the clarity of the water and the colourful little fish I could see.  It reminded me of the tropical fish tank my mother used to keep. We'd decided we wanted to first have a look around the town, and then go for a swim.  So we walked from the quayside through the tunnel which joins the older side of the town to the newer one.   

Grenada is known for it's spices, and if I hadn't read that information before I got off the ship, I was certainly made well aware of it during our walk.  Everywhere, everyone was trying to sell us spices.  In the nicest possible way, we were harassed with "You want to buy some spices, honey?".  The market vendors and the street touts were very polite and didn't push when we said "No thank you", in fact,  they were quite lovely, but the question was constant.
Over and over again we had to politely refuse.   The colourful market sold mostly spices, which smelt gorgeous, and was surrounded by various craft and gift shops.  We managed to find Peter some new sunglasses which proved to be a hilarious exercise.  I really should have taken pictures of him wearing the various styles. 

There is a fort which can be reached by walking a steep hill but it was far too hot to do that, after our spice dodging, we returned to the quayside, hoping to get a water taxi to our chosen beach,  only it wasn't there.........  Fortunately Peter managed to find a taxi driver to take us where we wanted to go for the same price as the water taxi, and then we were on the beach and in the water.  We spent a wonderful hour and a half there.  White sand, hot sun, beautiful scenery.  Idyllic.

Our taxi driver collected us and took us back on ship.  A quick rub down and dry clothes and we went back ashore, not wanting to stay on board when we didn't have to.  We soon found a little bar with a balcony view of the quay.  As usual, a fair number of the Marco Polo passengers had already taken up residence, and we joined them for a beer and a chat until we'd run out of money and it was time to go.   A great end to a relaxed and enjoyable day.  

St Georges Quayside and Marco Polo from our balcony view

St Georges, Grenada 2013
St Georges, Grenada 2014