S
ince I moved to a little island in the
Caribbean my sleepy-time dreams have
revolved around food. Sugary baked
goods, in particular, wake me each
morning with shamefully intense longings for pies, petit fours, and their powdered peers – cravings that I know will
go unfulfilled. No, I’m not a recovering
binge-eater. I’m just a girl with a wicked
sweet tooth living on a rock without a
proper bakery.
When I migrated South to the Virgin
Islands eight years ago on a rather
impetuous whim, I gave little thought to
what I would be giving up. I hopped on
the plane and didn’t look back, visions
of white sand and all things cerulean
dancing in my head.
I found the white sand though I had no
idea of the trade-offs it would require.
Island life makes you miss the strangest
things. Random and mundane things
that had always been available and you
never gave a second thought towards
are suddenly glaringly obvious in
their absence.