And Now, the Buses...
Because of the “abundant options” this place offered, bus transport was organized outside to shuttle all guests to the town. It was a nice touch, given that it was free (the first thing guests always ask), but it drastically slowed down the disembarkation process. All three thousand-plus passengers had to wait their turn for buses to take them to the aforementioned town, a good half-hour drive from our dock! No matter how many buses they allocated, it was a slow grind. Naturally, we had to yield to the guests and wait for the main rush to subside. Considering all this, Freeport was already getting on my nerves before we even properly got off the ship. Once, most of the guests were gone, we received permission to leave. We waited for our slot and found ourselves in the parking lot. We boarded a bus, heading to a beach or resort – or so we were told.
As we set off, another surprise. The driver was driving on the left side, British style. Where did that come from when everyone so far had driven on the “right” (correct) side? This was one of those questions answered by history, and directly by our driver. This island had been part of the British Empire for a long time. Only in more recent times, some fifty years ago, did it (supposedly) become part of the Bahamas proper. The sovereignty changed, with many agreements and administrative explanations. But, to simplify life for the locals, the authorities kept the traffic rules as they were. So, here they still drive on the left. Everything about this place seemed somewhat upside down.
The Never-Ending Ride
With that novelty noted, we continued. We expected to be on a beach shortly. Left side or right side, it didn’t matter. But “shortly” turned out to be wrong again. The ride dragged on and on. Fifteen, twenty, thirty minutes passed, and our view remained a barren wasteland. Only after more than 40 minutes did we arrive somewhere. We reached the coast, likely on the opposite side of the island. But even that was more than modest. Four or five hotels, a couple of casinos, a beach, and that was it. Freeport was truly one big disappointment. All that driving just to get here? We expected a town, but this was literally just a beach with a few hotels.
My sentiment was shared by the other crew members and by most of the guests we met on that beach, since everyone had ended up there. What else was there to do but look for the nearest bar? To at least shake off the frustration with some refreshment. If it was any consolation, the guests were far more irritated than we were. After all, they were paying for this. I genuinely wouldn’t want to be in the shoes of the reception staff upon our return. We separated from the tourists and went our own way. Not that there were many ways to go. We toured the “entire” place. That took us a whole ten to fifteen minutes. We chose the thickest shade we could find.
It was a bar by a pool. Truth be told, it was actually quite good, and given the lack of any other options, it didn’t cross our minds to move. By describing this arrival, I have conveyed to you almost all the free attractions Freeport has to offer. That was mostly all we could do in this place. Either be here or simply stay on the ship, which we did on many occasions over the following months. I might have totally forgotten this place had it not been for one thing I did here months later, which I found out about almost entirely by accident. Even the guests’ tours in this port were nothing special. Biking, kayaking – honestly, very mediocre excursions.
Except for one that stood out. Swimming with dolphins…