One evening, we followed up on a restaurant recommendation from one of the other couples. It was a new place in town, and they absolutely raved about the food. Esther and Menno hadn’t had a chance to check it out yet, but we decided to trust our diving compatriots and give it a shot.

It turned out to be a small house, so the “restaurant” was sort of split up into three rooms. The main room, in front, already had its three tables filled, so the owner opened up one of the additional rooms for us.

Accustomed by now to outdoor Bonaire dining, we’d all dressed in tanks and shorts – so we FROZE upon entry to the super-air-conditioned room. The doors and windows had been closed for some time, we gathered, with the A/C running full blast. We were assured it would warm up soon.

As we sat down at a table, I was overpowered by an unpleasant smell that I couldn’t quite identify. First I thought it was new-paint smell (as we were obviously surrounded by new paint). But that wasn’t it. Turpentine? Paint remover? Whatever it was, it quickly became completely overwhelming for me unless I breathed through my mouth.

We thought we’d ask to be moved to outside or another room, as we perused the menu. And then we realized we were in WAY over our culinary heads: the small menu had some very fancy items on it, but nothing Kathy or I would go near with a ten-foot pole.

That was the final straw for us; we made our apologies to the proprietor and headed out in search of plainer food.

Epilogue: later in the week, I discovered the same smell in several stores downtown. I decided it was most likely some sort of bug spray (based on the cockroaches we spotted down by the water, I’m guessing any place that wants to serve food in town has to exterminate pretty regularly).