When one thinks of the Caribbean, images of white sandy picture perfect beaches, yachts in turquoise waters and hammocks between coconut trees come to mind. The smell of the sea, the taste of tropical fruit and the sound of guitars and drums...
Altogether, I would claim that the thought of the Caribbean doesn't send shivers down anyone's spine, but rather puts a smile on people's faces and evokes happy daydreams.
In eager anticipation of this phantasy becoming reality and lulled away by the "Welcome to Cayman" Band playing tropical tunes on the runway literally next to my plane, I was rather surprised to find a souvenir stand inside the terminal selling postcards from "Hell".
Fortunately it soon turned out that the tropical island paradise was not just a clever marketing gag to lure people to the Caymans, but that there was a village called Hell on the Island trying to attract tourists. Slightly concerned, I noticed on the way to my hotel, that there was also a place called Prison...
But even the smallest doubt I may have developed about my detour to the Caymans immediately disappeared when I arrived at the hotel. Whoever came up with the names for these villages, must have been a depressed lunatic or trying to stop people from coming to the Island.
I am not even going to attempt describing the state of euphoria I experienced when I first saw the white beach, the turquoise water, the beautiful palm trees and the floating bars in the sea serving tropical cocktails.
Words and even pictures will never do it any justice...
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