Turks and Caicos

I wasn’t new to solo travel when I went to Turks and Caicos alone in the summer of 2022. In 2018, I spent a month in Southeast Asia, traveling around Thailand, Laos, Cambodia, and Vietnam, enjoying only the company of hired motorcycle drivers or friendly tour guides along the way. I went to South Korea and Japan alone in 2019, and then to Singapore, Malaysia, and Indonesia in January of 2020, just as news reports were emerging about a novel coronavirus, two months before the same news was circulating in the United States. I love traveling by myself. I love making my own decisions about when I sleep, when I eat, what I eat. I love having the full range of a hotel room, spreading out all my belongings across couches and armrests and bathroom sinks, half of any bed my clothes laid out so I can see everything I brought with me at all times so I can meticulously determine what to wear without ever packing anything that goes unused.

Turks and Caicos felt like any other solo trip I had planned. I decided where I was going by researching my options thoroughly; I booked my flights after a few days of keeping an eye on fluctuating prices, and then I told my husband after I had already spent the money on tickets (rude), who always responded calmly, “That sounds like fun, let me know the dates you are thinking about,”. Then, I waited a few days and pretended I hadn’t already booked the trip, and I told him my itinerary, and then I excitedly awaited my adventure away to reset and relax —to rejuvenate in the solitude I knew I would find, like the true introvert that I am.

I picked Turks and Caicos based on proximity only — I didn’t have a lot of time off between work trips to Costa Rica and Mexico that were happening in the same year, and I didn’t want to fly too far away from home to require an adjustment to a time difference or deal with jet lag. This trip would just be four days, a shorter one than I was accustomed to planning. Maybe for that reason, it was also one in which I seemed to have forgotten my personal rules of behavior whenever out of the country without a trusted partner.

Here are the rules I broke in Turks and Caicos:

Rule #1: Don’t get drunk in public.

Rule #2: Don’t drink/ get drunk with locals or other travelers.

Rule #3: Listen to the locals.

Rule #4: Don’t push making friends when traveling. Just let it happen organically.  

I have a lot more rules when it comes to traveling ( where I keep my passport, whether I carry my passport or leave it in the hotel, the location of my emergency money, where my blood type is written down and where that piece of paper can be found on my body if something happens to me), but in the case of Turks and Caicos, some of my most valuable rules flew out the window on the last day of my trip. I don’t know why — maybe because the pandemic had felt so restricting, so challenging, that I didn’t realize I was desperate to talk to people – regardless, I chose to break rules number 1-4 in this order: 3,2,4,1.

To afford Turks and Caicos on my budget, I stayed at a resort about an hour and a half walk from the main area of town. The sweet receptionist in the lobby offered to sign me up for any excursions I might want while I was visiting. On my second day, I enjoyed a jeep tour of the island with a small group of other tourists, our guide with the style of a mix between Crocodile Dundee and Dog the Bounty Hunter, bragging endlessly about how many homes he owned on the island and how much money they generated for him as rental property. When the tour was over, I was dropped at my hotel and made my way to a waterside patio restaurant a few blocks away where I enjoyed a salad at the bar, texting my husband throughout the day, who so lovingly always responded with enthusiasm, always the encouraging and supportive person who loved my sense of adventure regardless of how it interrupted our lives.

Two more days went by, and I lazily enjoyed reading on my private balcony, walking to the beach, making cheese sandwiches and scrambled eggs in my kitchen, sleeping on the fold-out couch by the sliding glass door instead of in the bed so I could hear the ocean when I woke up in the morning. On my last full day before flying home, I had scheduled a boat tour that would take a group to a remote island and offer a snorkeling experience as well as snacks and drinks. The tour company driver picked me up outside the lobby doors along with two other girls around my age. We politely smiled and nodded at one another, as I jumped in the front seat of the van and they loaded into the back.

“You all are enjoying your time?” asked the driver.

“Yes, for sure. We are not together. I am by myself,” I responded, gently turning my head to politely acknowledge the girls behind me.

“Well, enjoy the boat. Its. A lot of fun. But watch out for the rum punch. It’s really good, but very strong. It will hit you hard,” he warned.

I didn’t think anything of the comment. This guy looked cool, the way he slouched his shoulder to the right of the steering wheel, perching his elbow on the center console, driving with his left hand casually, as only locals can do. I wasn’t much of a mixed drink person, anyway. Only the occasional margarita would interest me recently — when was the last time I even ordered a liquor drink at a bar? I couldn’t remember. I stick with red wine because I know my limits and can keep from feeling bad the next day if I pace myself.

We arrived at the marina, a large building with glass windows that surrounded the front, facing the parking lot. Our driver directed us to go around the building to the dock—no need to go inside. The boat crew would be waiting for us. When we arrived at the boat, most of the other passengers were already on board, and I made my way up the stairs to the top level where the sun was shining, where I could claim a spot on a bench before the boat departed. Just a few moments later, the two girls arrived on the top deck as well and positioned themselves across from me. I again smiled at them as I applied sunscreen onto my neck and chest, while one of the local crew members started making an announcement over the loudspeaker about the plan for the afternoon. Turtle beach, snorkeling, snacks, drinks, bathrooms on lower deck, lifejackets under benches. Within two minutes we were off, and music started blaring from speakers I couldn’t see. Before I had a chance to look back at the land moving further into the distance behind me, a tank-topped crew member appeared in front of me with a stack of small plastic cups in one hand, and a gallon jug of light brown liquid in the other.

“Rum Punch?” he asked.

Thank you,” I nodded, taking a cup from the top and turning it over as he filled it to the brim with the cloudy beverage. I took a sip. Delicious. A perfect blend of fruit punch and alcohol —not too sweet, and I couldn’t taste the rum at all. I sipped my little piece of paradise and leaned back, taking in the breeze off the ocean, listening to the other passengers talking around me, enjoying being surrounded by people who, like me, were enjoying a beautiful day on a boat with no agenda. Before I knew it, the bartender had made his round and was back to me. “Another drink?” I again nodded in agreement as he filled up my cup once more.

I was now feeling very relaxed, and the rum was starting to get to my head. I looked around the boat and, in my tipsiness, decided it was time to start talking to other passengers. My gaze landed on the two young women who had been in the van with me. That’s a great place to start running my mouth now that I have had a few drinks.

I made my way over to them, saying hi and asking where they were from and how they were liking the hotel. Sara and Anna had been best friends since childhood and were taking a girls’ trip for the week. Like me, they were enjoying that the hotel was off the beaten path and away from the more expensive resorts. We kept chatting, transitioning from the boat into the water where we floated in the blue, crystal-clear water, watching kids take turns sliding down the waterslide into the ocean. It felt lovely to have some company after spending a few days alone, and the three hours at sea flew by as we talked about how home lives and what we liked most about traveling and seeing the world.

When it was time to depart back to the marina, I moved my towel to sit with my new friends, our voices getting louder as we indulged in more Rum Punch, screaming to hear each other over the noise of the wind. Once the boat docked back at the port, we gathered our belongings, and as we were exiting, Anna noticed the bartender packing up leftover jugs of punch. “Can I have one of those?” she asked. He hesitated for a moment and then handed it to her, smiling and shrugging his shoulders. We found our same van driver back in the parking lot, and we loaded into the van, talking over one another excitedly about how fun the boat had been. Back at the hotel, I said goodbye to the girls and went to my room, looking forward to calling my husband to tell him about my day after I unpacked my beach gear. Before I had a chance to even dial his number, there was a knock at the door. Confused, I answered it and saw Anna and Sara standing there, the rum jug swinging from Anna’s right hand.  

“We saw you from our balcony hanging up your towels and figured out where your room was. Do you want to go to dinner?” said Sara.

I paused. I already had three drinks, and I didn’t want to be out late, and I had planned on just eating what was left in the refrigerator. But why deny a kind offer to just sit around alone in my room?

“Yeah, sure, let me get my purse.” I ran back to the coffee table in the living room, picked up my phone and texted my husband that I would call him later because a few nice girls I met invited me to eat with them, and walked out into the hallway to meet my new friends. Anna flung the jug toward me, and in my excitement, I drank straight from it, the warm liquid spilling down my cheeks, warming my throat. I wiped my face with the back of my hand, and we made our way down the stairs and out to the street.

By the time we arrived at the restaurant 15 minutes later on foot, the better part of the jug was gone, and I was feeling very toasty. We sat down and looked over the menu, ordering glasses of wine from our waiter. I tried my best to concentrate on the menu items, but my vision was starting to blur. I had a few sips of water while Anna and Sara talked about how bonded they were and how much it meant to have such a good friend to rely on. I scrunched my face and moved my head in agreement to show how compassionate I was in understanding true female friendships, while thinking to myself, “Don’t talk. Don’t say anything. The words will not come out well.”  I managed to order a fish dish and keep my composure while the conversation continued around me. That was, until I couldn’t contain myself any longer. I was drunk, and I didn’t want to be, and I definitely didn’t want to be there anymore.

“I will be right back. I am going to the bathroom.” I blurted out, grabbing my purse and heading toward the bar. I spotted our waiter and quickly asked him for my portion of the check, not daring to turn around to see if the girls could see me talking to him. I signed the check and thanked the waiter, walking as fast as I could out of the restaurant and down the street to the hotel. I wobbled back and forth down the sidewalk, trying to steady myself until I made it back to the hotel gates. When I stumbled through the hotel’s front gates, I was more desperate than ever to hide in my room for the rest of the night and wait out the drunkenness. I passed by the hotel lobby and was making great progress in getting to my room in one piece when suddenly, as though I had no power to make my own decisions anymore, I made an abrupt left turn and jumped in the pool with all my clothes on. I can’t say how long I swam, because the next thing I remember is waking up at 2:00 am in the dark, in my underwear, my soaking-wet dress next to the bed.

In the quiet of night, I looked down at my phone lying next to me in the bed and scrolled through the history of calls. I had called my husband at 7:30 pm to tell him goodnight just as I said I would. As I tucked myself back into bed and shut my eyes, I wondered if I had told him that I went swimming.