Some people think holidays are supposed to be periods of relaxation and pure decadence, lounging by a pool sipping singapore slings with your only worry being which all-included drink you want next - some people think holidays are supposed to be rugged adventures in the bush, living day-by-day in a foreign land that you've purposely chosen to strand yourself in - to test your resolve and wits of whether you can make nice with the locals by day and if you can make pillows out of dirt and leaves by night.

Me, I'm somewhere in the middle.

I'd rather meet the locals than meet other tourists.  I'd rather hear about them than tell them about me.  Take photos of them and their country, instead of asking them to take photos of me in their country.

Thankfully, our recent trip to Trinidad and Tobago was exactly this sort of holiday.

Day 1: Arriving in a tropical paradise

"I've never been able to properly explain myself in this climate." - Hunter S. Thompson

We didn't really know what to expect.  We knew where we were staying in Trinidad, but we didn't know where it was or what to do in the meantime between arriving and checking in.  What we did know is that airline food is never satisfying and that KFC, according to TripAtlas' own Michelle Ali, is much better in T&T than in Canada.  For some twisted reason I trusted Michelle's advice and went for the 2pc special at 6am.

I've never had a better tasting steroid-enriched, massively unethical piece of fried chicken.

So with our stomachs lined with grease and 20 minutes knocked off the 6 hours we had to kill, I figured asking a cabbie for advice couldn't hurt - you know, "what's there to do around here?" type stuff. He quickly shuttled us toward 'the dispatcher' who proceeded to tell us what we would do in the mean time - constant references to "cooler full of beer" and "beach" were both things that just seemed to make perfect sense at half passed 6am in a tropical paradise.

Off we were with Harry - the young cabbie the dispatcher told us to go with who would show us around Port of Spain, the capital city of Trinidad.

While speaking with Harry as we head down the only highway connecting Piarco Airport to the rest of Port of Spain, we somehow agree that going back to his house was the best way to go about starting the day - that way we could relax for a bit before filling a cooler with beer and going to the beach, which by now was carved in stone in our itinerary without ever being fully discussed by us.

It's also around this point that Harry explains 'the dispatcher' is also his father, Raj (as seen below with his wife in the photo at their home).

Within minutes we're off the highway and in a small neighbourhood in Tunapuna, Trinidad and talking to his mother as she made me a fried egg and onion sandwich while he poured some glasses of White Oak rum.There was something about the roosters crowing, dogs barking, palm trees brushing in the wind and sunrise blaring that made drinking rum at 7am alright.  "Yes," I thought, "this is it."

Then some freshly made doubles.  And more rum.

Next, we were off to the local grocery store down the street to return some empties and pick up a fresh case of Carib, two bags of ice and whatever else we would need/want for our day at the beach.  Harry ordered everything and waited in the car while the cashier looked to me for the cash.  They've obviously done this before.

Down, around the Queen's Park Savannah (where Lionel Richie would be playing later that night) with ice cold Caribs, the three of us went into the Royal Botanical Gardens.  The garden was originally the sugar plantation first cultivated by slaves and indentured immigrants brought to Trinidad from India, Africa, Portugal & China.

We learned all of this (and much more) from a very knowledgeable garden tour guide named David (left) while Harry waited on a bench near the entrance.  He sort of crept up behind us while we walked and began explaining the different plant & flower species before asking if we in fact wanted to take a tour.  It was becoming apparent that this is the standard sales technique used by the locals.

He knew his stuff, though.  He had it down pat.  Every single thing you could want to know about any plant, tree or flower in those gardens, David could rhyme it off for you - and then relate that plant to one back in Canada that's similar to it.

Out of the garden, back on the road on the way to check in at L'Orchidee - our bed & breakfast we were staying in the for the night.  Although we were checking in 2 hours early, they didn't seem to mind and we quickly did so and got back outside and into Harry's waiting car to continue our tour of Trinidad.

Next destination: Maracas Beach.  Up winding hills, weaving around corners and narrowly missing passing cars with beer in hand seemed like a good idea at the time.  I think we were more shocked how time seemed to go by so slowly than by the fact that with all the rum and beers we were three sheets to the wind and it wasn't even 11am yet.  Oh well, as the saying goes: it was 12 o'clock somewhere.

Stopping at the peak of the mountain ridge for some  mango chow and tamarind balls at a rest stop, we could see the beach from the hill.  It was paradise in all directions.  Without wasting any more time we got back in the car and began the descent down the other side of the mountain toward Maracas Beach.

The beach, while busy, was still relatively relaxed.  The water and surrounding scenery was incredible.  Small rain clouds would creep down the hillside and shower small pockets of the beach and disappear just as quickly as they arrived.  There was a constant mist hovering over the rainforest that encompassed the entire island it seemed, but the sun never stopped shining and the drinks never stopped flowing.

Lunch was bake and shark at a small hut beside the beach that served fresh caught shark sandwiches, which were unbelievably good.  Perhaps one of my only regrets of that first day was not going back for seconds.  After all, I'd be indulging in everything else up until that point.

We finally wrapped up the day some time in mid-afternoon, I don't really remember the details of that part.  I do remember waking up after dinner had already been served and having to settle with a made-to-order grilled cheese & ham sandwich, which hit the spot before passing out again from sheer exhaustion.

We logged many miles that day and a lot of details and stories within stories have been left out, but I think this paints a clear picture of just how much we would have missed out on had we been immediately shuttled to our hotel and lounged by the pool all day.