By Laura Bijnsdorp
When I heard I had to fly to Curaçao for a work-related reason, I hastily looked for a flight to Bonaire. During my past trips to Curaçao, I had always been too late to book a visit to its sister-island. I freed my calendar for two days and this time I succeeded in arranging a flight. I would have just 48 hours to enjoy Bonaire – better than nothing!
Bon bini
After Insel Air changed my flight time about seven times, I sighed in relief when I finally stepped onto the tarmac and was walking towards the pink airport building in Bonaire. Due to Insel Air’s fickle time management, I arrived late at night.
“Bon Bini,” said the attractive immigration officer who checked my passport. My mood was lifted. Outside the airport, another friendly face by the name of Menno greeted me. Menno was the manager of the boutique hotel El Encanto I had booked. Providing chipper conversation, he drove me in his dusty green truck to the hotel.
As it was late, the restaurant was closed. I had already eaten something at the airport in Curaçao BUT I was craving a celebratory drink. I put on my best sad-face and asked Menno if there was any way I could get a glass of wine from the closed bar. A half hour later, Menno arrived at my room with a bottle from his personal stash at home and, at that moment, became my favourite person in Bonaire!
Flamingo butts
The following day, my good friend Kippy arrived. It was perfect timing, as we could now celebrate a “galentines” trip together. It was high season, and we had not realized that it would be rather difficult to find a car to rent. Menno pulled through and found us an old white truck to use for the day.
We rattled out of the main town Kraalendijk and headed to the North of Bonaire towards their National Park. Bonaire is about four times as big as Sint Maarten, so we had enough driving to do for the day! After a few stops, during which we admired the clear blue hues hugging the rocky coastline, we arrived at the edge of Washington Slagbaai National Park.
We were not going to drive into the park, as we were told that would take a day in itself. Driving on the fridge also proved very rewarding. Following a narrow road, we were led along Goto Lake. Then we spotted pink dots in the distance. “FLAMINGOS,” I pointed out with excitement!
With a closer view, we saw that the flamingos were in full feeding mode. Their bright butts poked up in the air as they fed. Flamingos are “filter feeders.” They stand head-down with their bills upside-down in the water and then use their tongues like pistons to push mud and water through lamellae (tiny, hair-like projections) on the inside of their beaks. The small crustaceans, pieces of vegetation and microorganisms that become trapped in the lamellae, are then consumed. Spotting them didn’t get old. We didn’t just find flamingos on the North side of the island, but also in large numbers on the opposite side around the Salt Flats.
Cactus juice tipsy
After our fill of flamingos, our route led us to Rincon. Rincon Village is the oldest village on Bonaire. Additionally, it is the oldest in continual existence within the Netherlands Antilles and Aruba. Originally settled by the Spanish in the early 1500s, Rincon was strategically nestled within a valley to ward off impending danger from pirates and other threats.
The town was quiet and had a rustic charm. Two vibrant yellow churches caught our eye, a number of homes that were decorated with charming figures and a sign that said “Cactus Distillery”. Cactus juice?!! We had to try it. The distillery was set up extremely well. “Have you ever tried cactus?” This is the question we were kindly greeted with. Afterward, we were given a shot-glass of green cactus liquor. It was tasty. They had six flavours: Bonaire, Curaçao, Saba, Aruba, Statia and Holland.
“Why is Sint Maarten missing?” we asked, feeling offended. “We could not find two ingredients that are indigenous to the island,” was the reply. It was also hard for us to find two complementing ingredients that represented Sint Maarten. Can you? We mulled it over, sipping on cactus liquor cocktails.
Not so salty flats
A good drive further from Rincon, we finally saw the white “hills” of salt appearing on the horizon. Historically, salt as a commodity was the root of war and struggles amid European factions. The eventual Dutch takeover of Bonaire, close to four centuries ago, served to underscore salt’s value. Salt production slowed with slavery abolition in 1863. It continued to be harvested fluctuating with market demand, tariffs and weather.
In the 1960s, a US company designed new solar salt works, revitalizing the industry. Today, Cargill Corporation is responsible for salt production and Bonaire’s thriving salt industry. Their salt is sent to the U.S. for processing and typically used for chemical production, water softening, pool treatment, and sometimes even for deicing. Cargill leases about 13 percent of the island for their salt-production work.
The flats are quite a sight, as they all differ in colour depending on the depth and salt-density. We stopped a few times along the way and tasted the salty crystals, except that they didn’t really taste salty… Apparently that depends on the chemical make-up.
We ended our day with drinks at the island’s famous Lac Bay – a paradise for windsurfers. Bonaire so far proved to be a perfect destination for a short getaway. After cruising around the whole island, I’d say my stay was too short as I still had a long to-do list, so instead of “Ayo”, I said, “Te aworo, Bonaire!”
