I loved Amsterdam so much two years ago, that I suggested we spend Christmas this year in Aruba. And here we are! We are staying in an area referred to as Piedra Plat. I think I know why. We spotted this at the end of the street.
Thus far, the island shows no resemblance to the Dutch - food, color or otherwise. It’s arid with more cacti than palm trees. It’s rocky with volcanic remnants. It’s inundated with Chinese corner markets, and the American fast food influence - looking at you Wendy’s - can be seen on every street. It’s only 20 miles from Venezuela, so there’s probably more of a South American influence than European.
However, our first dining experience at one of the top rated restaurants on the island included an appetizer menu with an assortment of cheese dishes, an ode to the Dutch for sure. Our warm brie drizzled with honey was divine.
And our first seafood meal was a solid 8.5 with the cocktail, Papamiento Royale, made with fresh pineapple juice and rum that I won’t likely forget. Keagan wanted to know if we could buy this by the bottle.
We have gone grocery shopping - which means the fridge is full of beer - and now we are settled in the AirB&B ready for a full night’s sleep. After my 3:45 wake up call and my cat naps on the plane, I’m ready for a bed.
If it weren’t for the mosquitoes, I’d sleep outside. The beaches will be calling my name tomorrow.
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