Never in a million years did I ever think I would find myself in the middle of the Atlantic Ocean at the end of October. But there I was, looking out the AirTran Airlines plane window and seeing Grand Bahama Island from 20,000 feet with the green ocean below.

Normally I love flying, but I don’t think I’ve ever been so excited to be on the ground in my entire life. Once they finally opened the doors and I started stepping down the stairs, the hot Bahamian air just stuck to your skin.

It was so unreal, standing there at the bottom of the stairs waiting for the other six people to step out. After two months of planning and waiting, we were finally at our destination.

I think that what struck me first, besides the humid weather, was how extremely nice the Bahamians were.

A friend of ours had been able to escape Athens a day early, so it seemed like he already knew every cabbie, bus driver and bar owner in a five mile radius of our hotel. Whenever we were out walking in a group, night or day, a taxi or bus driver would pull over to us to see if we needed a ride.

Sometimes, though, their sincerity seemed to be pushing it. There were street peddlers everywhere, selling T-shirts, dresses, scarves, jewelry, or offering to braid people’s hair – usually $1 per braid. Walking through the International Bazaar, a village of little shops and stands, seemed impossible because the vendors were so anxious to sell us their cheap merchandise. A person could probably spend a good $40 in less than 15 minutes if they weren’t careful.

One of the great things about the Bahamas was that the legal drinking age is 18. You could say it was a little weird for me, to be able to go up to a bartender and ask for a $2 shot of Jose Cuervo with salt and lime. I figured I might as well take advantage of the situation since I only have five months more months until the big 21st birthday.

There was one particular night when we found ourselves without any beverages because all the liquor stores closed at 9 p.m. So being the brilliant person that I am, two other guys from my group and I decided to walk back to the pub we had been at that evening and ask if the bar owner had any bright ideas for us, since he had been so willing to help us out minutes earlier.

When we got there, he insisted that his friend take us to Mactown, which is a native part of Grand Bahama Island. He said it was the only place on the island where a liquor store was still open.

So in a van we went, riding through run down neighborhoods with shacks for houses and Bahamians hanging out on the front porches, to a rundown bar/liquor store. Inside there were maybe less than seven Bahamians, playing dominos, laughing, drinking, smiling and waving at the young Americans.

Once we had achieved our goal, quite cheaply might I add, the man driving the van drove us back to our hotel.

Before we arrived, he had already given us his number for a free Saturday ride around the island. Again, here was a complete stranger who was more than willing to take up his entire Saturday to show around a bunch of 20-something tourists.

Later that evening, the same two guys and I got bored and decided to walk around Freeport to find something to do. One of us got the crazy idea to head to the beach, and so we flagged down a bus, or what we thought was a bus.

Through our stupor, we told the driver to take us to the nearest open beach at 1 a.m. Halfway there, all three of us realized that it’s kind of unusual for a $1 bus ride to have a ticker on the dashboard. When we finally got to Taino beach, we owed the cabbie $26. We didn’t,t know where we were, and even though the cabbie offered to come back for us, we didn’t take him up on his offer.

So there we were, on a beautiful beach with the moonlight shining, stars blazing and the waves lapping at our feet. I don’t think any of us were too concerned about getting back anytime soon.

The sunrise at 6:45 a.m. that morning was worth it with all the pinks and blues lighting up the sky, despite all the bug bites we had acquired while sleeping on the beach.

And even though we looked pretty haggard while walking about a mile to the nearest bus stop, it was still a pretty cool moment because I knew I had the rest of the weekend to look forward to Bahamian life and culture.

Amber Billings is a junior in journalism and mass communication from Sioux City. She is at the University of Georgia through the National Student Exchange program.