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The paintings of Italian-born artist Agostino Brunias, who made a profession of depicting the island in subdued, stylized settings that covered up the harsh realities of colonial control, were my first visual introduction to Dominica. However, as soon as I step onto its winding roads, which begin to twist shortly after I arrive, it becomes evident that this region, which is situated in the center of the Lesser Antilles’ curve, is anything but tame. The two-toned leaves of its bois canot trees, which change color from green to white when they sway in the wind, shimmer and bristle with the power of the volcano. It lulls with the erratic sound of its numerous waterfalls, scatters rainbows haphazardly across its breathtaking horizons, and enchants from the depths with its vibrant coral reefs. And it roars come storm season.
The indigenous Kalinago people of Dominica survived invasion by the French and British, who imposed slavery on the Africans who now make up four-fifths of the island’s population and left a linguistic legacy of English and French-based Creole, by mastering the lush tropical rainforest that covers more than 60% of the island. If you visit Trinidad for roti and Jamaica for jerk, you should travel to Dominica for green things like bush rum and flower teas. There are a ton of medicinal herbs in the forest.
The Jungle Bay Dominica resort, located smack dab in the center of the Soufrière jungles, leans into nature instead, maybe realizing the futility of fighting against the earth’s generosity. When I finally get there, the kitchen is closed. Joanne Hilaire, the operations manager, tells me that they never let guests go hungry, though, so I can feel the warmth of Dominica’s welcome. The cook is preparing an excellently stewed dish of beans with taro, rice, and plantain for our late dinner, off the menu, while I have a refreshing ginger-lime cocktail that is a local favorite. When I wake up the following morning, I find that my villa’s doors open onto a private veranda that faces southwest toward Soufrière Bay, where the Caribbean Sea and the Atlantic Ocean converge. I let the light wake me for the remainder of my stay by leaving my blinds open.
What Your Typical Day Was Like During ‘The Golden Age’ Of Commercial Flying
From the 1950s to the 1970s, flying was a luxurious experience. Aviation historian Graham M. Simons recalls it as a time of elegance, with spacious seats and stylish crew. Passengers dressed up, adding to the sense of occasion.
Flight options were limited and costly. A round-trip ticket from Chicago to Phoenix in 1955 cost $138, about $1,200 today. Aviation expert Guillaume de Syon notes that flying was four to five times more expensive than now, making it accessible only to the wealthy.
Airlines served lavish meals with delicacies like caviar and foie gras. Some even hosted fashion shows on board. Former flight attendant Suzy Smith remembers serving beluga caviar during flights.
Flying felt like a cocktail party. Passengers dressed formally, and relaxed security allowed unusual items like pet birds in shoeboxes. This freedom contributed to a laid-back atmosphere.
Pan Am epitomized luxury and glamour. Former employee Joan Policastro recalls star-studded flights with exclusive lounges.
Flight attendants had strict appearance standards, wearing high heels, white gloves, and corsets. Airlines imposed rules on appearance, hair length, weight, and marital status.
Despite its end, the Golden Age of flying is fondly remembered. Groups like World Wings, former Pan Am employees, cherish memories of when flying was an adventure synonymous with luxury and excitement.
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