Breathtaking.
One down, three to go…
On the Move: Paradise Island, Bahamas
I spent a good chunk every summer of my childhood (and adolescence, and adulthood) on the beaches and in the mud-green waters of the Atlantic, near Maryland and Delaware. Honestly, I’ve always felt lucky to be 3 hours away from a beach, regardless of the quality of food and entertainment (*cough* Ocean City, Maryland, is awful *cough*). And while I’ve spent some time on the West Coast on some fantastic beaches by L.A. (Hermosa and Laguna, to name two,) it wasn’t until this summer that I went to a place where the sands and waters are of the color and clarity we dream about when we hear the word “beach.”
The Riu Palace on Paradise Island is an all-inclusive resort, which basically boils down to all you can eat and all you can drink. At first, this might seem like a disaster of an idea. After all, how many solid buffets seem to exist outside of Vegas? (Answer: probably a bunch of them, I just haven’t been there.) Most of the time a buffet is a heap of mediocrity, brimming with macaroni and cheese, chicken nuggets, and soggy fries.
I am happy to report that the quality of food offered by the Riu for breakfast, lunch, and dinner is fantastic. Breakfast and dinner are hosted in the roomy, high-ceilinged Atlantic room, while lunch is hosted in the more casual Bahamas room. The spread put out by the kitchen is somewhat of a spectacle, offering dish after dish of beautifully arranged, freshly prepared foods. If you aren’t happy with the scrambled, sunny-side up, over-easy, poached, or hard-boiled eggs that are constantly being cooked up every morning, you can always head on over to the omelet station to having something more to your liking. Your breakfast staples are all there, along with a few Bahamian offerings in the mix (mostly involving cassava, which is delicious). Dinner offerings rotated on a nightly basis and featured some outstanding themes. At 6:30 every night, the staff throws open the doors with their own cheering and applause, soon to be joined by the guests who are about to savor the work that has been put in all afternoon. Make sure you don’t miss Greek night, which has endless dishes of gyro meat, kofta, chicken kebabs, hummus, tzatziki, and moussaka. This, of course, doesn’t include the platters of marinated olives, the towering dish of Greek salad, the grilled fish selections, the carving station’s offering, the nightly trio of Bahamian dishes, hearts of palm salad—hell, I could list a hundred more dishes, so I’ll stop because I think you get the picture. Bonus points are awarded for the fact that NOT ONCE did they offer macaroni and cheese.
If the buffet isn’t to your liking, you can always opt to make a reservation at one of the four themed restaurants in the resort, instead. There’s a steakhouse (easily the best of the bunch), an attempt at old school gourmet (offering dishes like duck a l’orange), a Japanese spot (passable, but offering portions that sent me wandering over to the buffet immediately afterwards), and a fusion restaurant (I didn’t eat there, due to my reservation coinciding with Greek night).
So, I think 400 words about food is enough. Let’s hit the beach.
The sand is a blinding white, the water is a glassy emerald green, and schools of angel fish will dart past your feet without a hint of fear. In short, it’s amazing. The heat is a little intense at times. To borrow the recent words of a good friend, there are times when you want to reach up and swat at the sun because it feels too close. The plus side is that the ocean is the right amount of cool where it’s easy to walk right in and feel instantly refreshed. You won’t find big waves on Paradise Island. What you get is a laid-back, bobbing flow—the kind that lends itself to floating on your back for pretty much as long as you want. It’s hard to deal with the fact that in a few weeks I’ll be back in the cold, nasty Delaware surf.
The only downside to the beach at the Riu is the swarm of jet-ski hawkers that line the coast. If going out on a jet ski, banana boat, or parasail is your thing, you’ll have easy access. If it’s not your thing, you’ll still be propositioned a few times each hour. It’s annoying, so if you’re looking to get away, you can always hit the pool.
After a little research, I found that pretty much every Riu outside of Paradise Island has a pool that might have been designed by a team of artists. The one at my place wasn’t anything to write home about, but that was okay by me. I’ve never understood people who go to an island and want to stay in a pool instead of the ocean, which is why I never spent more than five minutes in the Riu’s pool (and that was to swim up to the bar and order a ho-hum Kalik beer for the sole reason of saying I ordered something from the pool bar.)
One of the Riu’s advantages is that it’s right next door to the Atlantis resort that dominates Paradise Island. Think of Atlantis as a lost Disney park and you’ll have a grasp on what it’s like. It’s part casino, part aquarium, part water park, part high-end shopping, and part private beach. I spent a day there and made my through pretty much every corner of their property. Their beaches and inlets are spectacular and completely free of anyone trying to sell you a jet-ski ride. I also firmly stand by the statement that the day I can’t have fun in a water park is the day that I’m not fit to be a teacher anymore and I’m happy to report that my brother and I hit the body slides and flume rides and acted like we were 10 again.
You can also try your luck in the Atlantis casino playing games like “Oops, there goes my money” and “Hey, why am I broke?” Sure, other people call them “blackjack” or “roulette” but they all pretty much work the same way. Another great game to play is “watch people burn through twenty thousand dollars in thirty minutes because they have more money than you and, really, that’s just pocket change compared to what they really have in their bank accounts.” Fun times.
The Riu was a great place on a great island filled with great food and great people. You’ll walk away with a tan, some minor and/or major sunburn, and a huge appetite that takes days to get back to normal.
—Written by Grant Goodman
P.s That’s my Daddy. He’s a BAMF.
