Paradise Found - Ottawa Citizen - Grand Isle Resort & Spa
Paradise Found - Ottawa Citizen - Grand Isle Resort & Spa
Paradise Found - Ottawa Citizen - Grand Isle Resort & Spa
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As a helpful visual someone has painted a line on the walkway down to the beach complete with<br />
Tropic of Cancer lettering and the latitude and longitude particulars.<br />
But beyond the catchy moniker, Tropic of Cancer Beach could quite possibly be the most<br />
beautiful and peaceful find in the world.<br />
We shuffled through the thick sand, marvelled at the colours of the water — think melted<br />
gemstones from diamonds to the darkest sapphire — swam, lounged and gabbed about how<br />
lucky we were to find this slice of paradise.<br />
Which brings us to the protracted tale of just how difficult Tropic of Cancer Beach is to find.<br />
First of all, guide books wax poetic about it, proclaiming it to be the prettiest beach in the<br />
Exumas.<br />
Therefore, you have to go. Anticipation builds and a day trip is planned entirely around time at<br />
this must-see-and-experience place.<br />
But no map of Exuma we have has the beach on it. So down we go to the front desk of <strong>Grand</strong><br />
<strong>Isle</strong>s, the family-friendly luxury condominium resort where we are staying.<br />
The clerk first tells us that there’s no sign on the main road identifying Tropic of Cancer Beach.<br />
It keeps getting stolen. Seems everyone wants to have a sign with the famous Tropic of Cancer<br />
name on it.<br />
She tells us from the bridge that connects Great Exuma to Little Exuma go five miles and turn<br />
onto the dirt road with the abandoned car seat at the corner.<br />
We climb in the rental car and set off, I and my wife in the back seat, our friend driving and his<br />
wife riding shotgun.<br />
First stop, the Exuma Tourist Office in the capital of George Town to pick up a map that has<br />
Tropic of Cancer Beach on it. No such luck.<br />
But we’re tipped off that the turnoff also has a utility pole with a bunch of blue reflectors on it.<br />
We set off again, over the bridge, counting the miles, looking for that abandoned car seat and the<br />
utility pole with all the reflectors.<br />
We only stop when we hit the end of the road, which is at the tip of the island, and can go no<br />
further.<br />
The car is turned around and we stop at the first place we can for directions — Santana’s Grill<br />
Pit — a roadside shack restaurant with signs for cold Kalik (Bahamas’ national beer) and the best<br />
cracked conch (the national dish).