Anyone who has been to Nassau knows that to say it is a tourist trap is stating the obvious. Yet you cannot deny that it is one of the most beautiful places to visit during a weary winter. If you are able to get off the beaten path, out of the way of the hair braiders, the taxi drivers, the "free" bracelets which make you an honorary native of the Bahamas, and find those little areas, it indeed becomes paradise.
Joe wanted a license plate from the Bahamas. He read in a travel guide that you could actually purchase one on the island. It was obvious that we would not be able to find it in the straw market. Nor would we locate one in the many stores along the main streets that were overflowing with the travelers from the three ships at port.
As we turned down a side street we saw an "open" sign sitting out on the sidewalk in front of a dark wood door. In the window was a neon beer sign. We looked at each other, shrugged and pushed open the door.
That's how we found "Busey." A small bar with six seats, two tables against the wall, one patron drinking a Heineken. The back bar was a table of some sort with a dark rum barrel cut in two from top to bottom, hinged together with a set of shelves on each. The shelves held the bottles of liquor, which we were not allowed to drink, since his restaurant had yet to be officially opened.
Busey listened to Joe ask about the Nassau license plate and then he disappeared. 15 minutes later he returns with a plate and proudly hands it to Joe. 1977! In beautiful condition. Busey is very pleased that Joe is blown away and would not accept any money.
Everywhere we stepped on this island someone was ready to separate us from our money. Meeting Busey was a message to let me know that you can never make sweeping generalizations about anything!