Isla de Tardoba: Where Time Stands Still

It had been twenty-four years since she’d last seen it, but the place looked exactly the same. This was the first thing that came across Bertha’s mind as she saw her destination from the deck of the Primrose cruise ship while sipping her Mojito. It was almost as if the cruise ship had traveled back in time to return her to the lovely island of Isla de Tardoba so it would be just like the last time she was here when she was six. Bertha smiled, as even back them the island sort of had a charm she could not ignore and she had since that day longed to return to it. Now, celebrating her thirtieth birthday she had decided that there was no better time than to make that dream a reality and to return to the island that she had fallen in love with so many years ago.

After the ship had docked and Bertha had finished her drink she left the cruise shape taking only her personal ID, her ship card and some cash, since the island, even from a distance looked like it was frozen in time and would not take credit cards. She did not take much, just enough to buy some lunch, and perhaps some of the works of the local artists so she could have some souvenirs of her trip. Happily she walked down the dock towards the tourist area and with it the gate that would allow her access to the real treasure she sought, the island itself. She quickly cleared the customs office and turned left, heading towards the beach where had frolicked as a child so long ago. She smiled as she made her way down the beach and to the water that was so blue it was almost a clear white, even before it crashed on the shore. As she strolled through the ankle deep part of the water she watched the fish that swam by her, she was amazed at how these fish seemed to appear, swam by her, and then were gone, almost as if they had been created by the water for her to enjoy and then return to the water that had created them. She headed out of the water and down the wooden planks that had been added to the beach in order to create paths so that those who did not want to walk through sand that would burn your feet would have a choice. Over the time she had been gone the wind and rain had smoothed the planks and even the small cracks that were left had been filled in by the dusting of sand that covered the planks.

The planks took Bertha off the beach and in to the town of Tardoba, named after the island itself. Tardoba was a small town, the sidewalks on the streets made of more wood and the streets, if they could be called that, were merely dirt, packed down by those who had biked on them or walked. Twenty four years and the no car ban was still in effect, the closest thing this town had seen to cars other than those on TV were the four person operated bike cars, some with pickup truck beds built in to them for the purpose of transporting things, or hurt people. The sidewalks of the town were little more than a way for people to get off the street and to enter one of the many buildings that lined them. Homes mixed with shops and open air cafes with canopies that could lower during the rainy season. Bertha smiled as she went in to one of the open air cafes and ordered a sandwich made with a local selection of seafood as well as another Mojito and as she waited for her food she watched as the people walked up and down the street, they too seemed to be enjoying the lovely day on the island. Bertha ate her lunch and paid it before she headed in to one of the many shops that lined the street.  As she entered the shop she saw a sign made from driftwood that said “Welcome to Rolando’s Relics”

Inside the shop was sort of a slow, relaxing island song, Bertha knew she had heard it before but could not quite put her finger on where she had heard it before, but it sounded amazing and fit in the with the slow pace of the shop and the town perfectly. The shop looked as simple inside as it did outside, island native, almost primitive mixed in with just enough modern day so those who shopped in it would be comfortable. Hanging from the walls were various clothes, most of which actually seemed to be lovingly hand crafted. Mixed in with the clothes were various pictures as well as mosaics and sculptures, some of the pictures were painted, but others, as well as the mosaics and sculptures were made with various natural items and some even made from garbage that been picked up off the beaches and paths. Though the ones made from garbage were made with items that looked ugly, somehow the artist had brought out an inner beauty in them. Bertha’s thoughts were interrupted by a man’s voice.

“Something I can help you with?” asked the man who clearly had spent a fair amount of time in the sun. He seemed tan almost to the point that the tan was now permanently part of him.

“I’m just browsing, thanks,” Bertha said.

“No problem,” said the man. “My name is Rolando, yeah, I’m the artist, if you have any questions, please let me know,” he said.  Bertha looked around and found a few small pieces she liked so she bought them. Rolando and she even had some small talk about how it seemed that the island hadn’t changed in the past twenty four years. Rolando smiled and said “that is why I like it so much, in a world where things seemed to get crazier and more hectic there is this little slice of land where things are slow and you can unwind and relax,” As Bertha left the shop and headed back to her ship Rolando’s last words echoed through her mind. In a world that seemed to get crazier and more hectic, there are places like Isla de Tardoba where things you can unwind and relax. She smiled at that thought because in a world that seemed to bring you down, or do its best to, there were places left that could help lift your spirits and make you smile, and that was all that mattered.