My first “visit” to my islands…

Though I was born and raised in the states I identify with my parents birthplace; the Virgin Islands. Since I was a baby we have traveled “home” to family for summers and holidays. I have fond memories of helping my grandmother bake traditional tarts in her scorching hot kitchen or sitting on her porch watching cruise ships hoping for a cool breeze to decrease the humid and sticky temperature. We would visit my mother’s family on the small island of St. John and eat mangos taken directly from trees and swim in clear waters at the many beaches. But I was never a tourist. From the minute the plane landed I became an integral part of the island, traveling with the residents on their day to day journeys and never experiencing the “America’s paradise” my friends and co-workers would rave about whenever I mentioned an upcoming trip home. To me a trip to my islands meant familiar faces, great home cooked meals, a million mosquito bites, and time with friends and family. I knew nothing of the great resorts, activities or restaurants. Until now…

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