We woke up to an envelope that was shoved under the door because the hotel wanted to charge $75 for a bloody pillow case that I found on the bed we hadn’t used. I now know to ruffle the sheets for beds in our rooms to check for anything, and so that they can be cleaned. I can imagine how long that blood might’ve been there if everyone had chosen the bed by the window as we had. Caleb drops me off in downtown Hagåtña, and we agree to meet at the Agaña Spanish Bridge when he’s done with work, less than two hours later.

I visit the Plaza de España, the former palace of the Spanish governor from 1736 to 1898, which was then used by an American naval governor who added a baseball field before surrendering the island in 1941 to the Japanese. The plaza was damaged in 1944, and repairs were completed in 1980. It is still used today for social and civic functions. The Summer House had the custom of serving hot chocolate in the afternoon to guests of the Spanish governor, and that tradition was replaced with tea by the American governor’s wife.

There is an Eurasian tree sparrow in the window, and in front of the Garden House door, seemingly knocking to be let in, might be an escaped Helix pomatia (sold on the island for culinary purposes) or a Giant African snail (one of the most invasive species globally). Either way, I send a photo to Caroline, like I always do. The Garden House was used to store Spanish tools and supplies, then used as an American schoolhouse, and the Guam Museum has used it since 1954 to display historical items of the plaza. My last animal encounter of the early morning is a Sicilian buttercup chicken, so called for the shape of their comb.

Sirena in the shade by the Agaña Spanish Bridge

Commercial farming has made this once consistent egg layer a modern rare breed. They were brought to America in the mid-1800s and became so popular by 1912 that a club was formed. In 1918, the bird was admitted to the American Poultry Association’s Standard of Perfection. It’s a good thing that not all chickens have egos, or there might have been a historical fustercluck over this honor. Or there could be a plaque like the ones for Frank D. Perez (and portico) and General Douglas McArthur (and his bust). Or a full statue for Don Pedro Pangelinan Martinez (for having no enemies) and Sirena the mermaid (Guam’s maiden of the sea).

Caleb picks me up, and we drive out to the Guam National Wildlife Refuge, and stop in the empty visitor center to see the highlight reels of a world timeline to include the Sphinx, the Mayan, the Aztecs, and the Jesuits’ first mission. While imagining myself in the large scenes of the beach, forest, and marine habitats available in the park, we spoke with an intern who wants to become a ranger. We’ll walk the western half of the trails, including Latte Loop, and see Blue Moon butterflies, Mariana Monitor lizards, a Cane toad, and a bloated pig covered in flies. The mosquitoes follow us back along the beach.

We make our way to the east side of the island, and I notice a sign for Fadi’an Point/One Thousand Steps. There are only about a quarter of that, but the elevation on the return makes it feel more strenuous, especially in flip-flops. There is a clear path and railing for the most part. The ocean becomes visible over the trees, then the plants and rocks, before the tidepool is revealed with the shades of blue beyond. We’re both soaked in sweat after the climb out.

We visit Surf Side Beach when the bright blue lifeguard station grabs our attention, and we have the shiny dark sand and low rolling waves to ourselves. As we continue south, we see the front wall of the Inalåhan Baptist Church, the only part of the structure remaining from the 1920s, which was erected in a predominantly Catholic area. The Merizo Pier is empty on a workday, and a reenergizing late afternoon meal is had from Infusion Coffee and Tea — egg sandwich, 24k cupcake, and mochas (mine with activated charcoal).

I get pulled over for going 55mph in a 35 marked zone, which is the majority speed for the island. I tell the officer I passed a car, but that’s not an excuse. Caleb says his demeanor changed, and I got off with a warning. An officer steps into the busy street and waves people over, and a line of officers is available to issue tickets. The officer admitted we were keeping up with traffic and let us know they do this from time to time. I agree with their method and told him he won’t see me again, as that would be a pricy addition to our trip that we don’t need.

We get back to the hotel, pick up Boraski (one of Caleb’s ‘kids’), and make it to base to get rental dive gear put in the trunk for tomorrow. I met some of his other underlings playing dominoes, and then we went upstairs to get changed to go snorkeling until the sun touched the horizon. We see a Picasso triggerfish, a plastic spoon with googly eyes, a bunch of humbug damselfish, a blue sea star, a leopard sea cucumber, and many other faces and fins among the coral. I’m constantly defogging my mask. Our after-dark entertainment will come at the Wednesday Night Market in Hagåtña.

It’s different, and though I’m not sure if I’d look forward to going every week, I know I like an excuse to get out of the house (or hotel) and enjoy the journey too. It’s mostly BBQ food stalls, but we got to see a boy on a carabao, a kiddie race track, a rock climbing wall, jewelry, people dancing to country music, and an Indian dance group that took volunteers on stage while we ordered dry chicken, good rice, a wet salad, and sweet cheesecake from Jamaican Grill. While we sat on the wall waiting, the guy next to me tried to get me to join him up there. We take our food and move to a bench to eat.