Fatcow
| Last week, while you all were raising hell and a glass or two, we retreated to a far off island in the southern Caribbean for a few days of sun, surf, and relaxation.?Suddenly, things slowed to a crawl and we entered a space and time known as "Island Time".?What stands out from these few days of total bliss are memorable moments and lessons learned that I am now happy to pass along to any of you contemplating just such a trip.?I?ll be your guinea pig anytime.1.Stubbornness has its cost.(This is written in the third person because I am distancing myself from the subject person herein)...He stood there in a flimsy Hawaiian shirt outside the airport in NYC, freezing and chilled to the bone.?The other passengers, as well as his family members were all bundled in long coats and scarves and they shook their heads in disbelief and distain.?"There?s no excuse" she told him.?"How many times did I tell you to bring a jacket for this leg of the trip??I do not feel sorry for you".It was all worth it, of that he was convinced.?There was no way he was going to lug a heavy bulky jacket all the way to the Caribbean just because the first stop was in New York.That?s just silly.For this relatively short time, he?d rather freeze.?So with arms crossed, head down and back to the wind he waited for what seemed like eternity.??The inter-terminal bus finally arrived moments before three fingers on his right hand cracked off in frostbite.?What was insanity now, would be pure genius once they arrived in Barbados.?Sometimes it?s a delicate balance.2.The Pina Colada.Who travels from San Francisco to the Caribbean???We do damn it!?So after a packed-to-the-last-seat "red-eye" ?flight largely the wrong direction, a sleepless night, ten hours of flight time, and a couple of layovers, finally we found ourselves standing in the balmy humid breeze on a pink coral sand watching the remnants of an orange sun sink toward frothy turquoise waters.The bar on the beach was brightly painted wooden and it whispered my name, telling me that happy hour had arrived.?Here on the island the drinking age is 18.?This would be Max?s first legal drink.Now perhaps I?m naive, but my impression is that Max does not drink.?He hates the taste of alcohol and refuses all attempts to get him to try.?Good for him because he?s underage.?But not here!?His request was for a Pina Colada, which pretty much confirms my suspicion that he doesn?t drink.?So with great fanfare I returned with three Coladas, which were enjoyed as the sun slowly sank beneath fiery clouds and then into the Caribbean Sea.Naturally, all kids are going to try alcohol at some point.?So what better place and time than on vacation under the watchful eye of his parents??I can hear his mom giving him pointers:?"Yes, a slight buzz can be fun; it can open up your ability to communicate, and put you at ease.?But you have to be careful, because there is nothing worse than getting falling down drunk.?It just makes you foolish and stupid, it makes you feel bad, and you end up looking like a fool."He sipped slowly and never asked for a second, then quietly drifted off in his lounge chair while steel drums began playing in the distance.3.A bus RideTaxis are expensive in Barbados.?Instead, as all the brochures suggest, you can easily catch a bus to just about anywhere for 75 cents (US).?As you walk along the street they toot a melodic horn to ask if you want a ride.?They also pass by every five minutes or less and seem to be omnipresent.?What could be easier?We are not the kind to sequester ourselves in the hotel behind tall walls and partake of an all-inclusive yet limited experience.?Nope, bring on the local culture.?Bring on the bus!When it came time for dinner, I talked Sandy and Max in to going to St. Lawrence Gap, a quaint place a few miles to the south, where the brightly colored restaurants sit on a cobblestone street lit by little white lights and lapped by gentle waves on the shoreline.It was better known by the name "The Gap.?Although not far, it was well beyond walking distance.?So we crossed the busy beach road and waited not more than 2 minutes before a lumbering and slightly smoking bus arrived.Busses on the island have two operators; a driver, and a conductor who takes the money and gets everyone on board.?Both of these functions are very loosely defined, and both men get paid according to how many passengers board the bus in a day.?Thus, it becomes the driver?s job to stop and start and drive as quickly as humanly possible, and it becomes the conductor?s job to spot anyone on the street walking, wave them on the bus, and cram as many paying bodies on the bus as humanly possible.?It?s just the simple dynamics of the economics involved really.So as the bus quickly stopped before us, and opened the door I noted a slight hesitation when Sandy and Max saw how full it was.?"Oh C?mon" I said.?"It?ll be fine", then I quickly stepped on the bus as Max followed and then Sandy.Every seat on the bus had at least two people piled in them and the center aisle was packed with standing passengers packed in as tight as toothpicks.?Yet as we got on, amazingly a few more inches of floor space were created as everyone exhaled a bit and made more room.?Max managed to make it to the first step inside the door before a solid wall of bodies blocked further progress.Sandy and the conductor had about one foot each in the open door when the driver revved the diesel and popped the clutch and suddenly the overstuffed bus lurched forward down the street.??She clutched the door while the conductor dangled off the edge like this was a cable car in San Francisco.?Sandy was too short to grab the rail and her hands freshly slathered with lotion she couldn?t seem to grip anything.She was absolutely convinced that on the next turn she would fall out the open door and take the conductor with her as a deserving cushion.?Finally, she threw her arms around Max?s waist and held on for dear life, and then he to me, because I had a death grip on the overhead rail.?Meanwhile the driver surged ahead at full speed, then braked hard for every potential passenger on the sidewalk as we passed, sending a sea of people surging back and forth much like the ocean waves on the beaches we sped past.The person in front of me, or should I say millimeters from my face asked me if I needed a body guard.?"Um, why do you ask, do I need one? |
| ?"Um, why do you ask, do I need one?"Not here!"??He replied, as everyone in the vicinity laughed in glee.?It was terrifically funny, I just don?t know why.?But where else can you be this close to so many strangers of another race and culture and joke around and have fun so near the ragged edge of death on a busy highway at the hands of a madman driver?Moments later we arrived and wormed our way back out the open door and onto the street as the bus roared off in a puff of blue smoke trailing a different set of passengers hanging out the front door.?3.Off the Side of the Side Street.After a wonderful meal in a little restaurant overlooking the water "we" decided it was time to walk the cobblestone street in search of local arts and crafts amongst the open booths lining some of the sidewalks.After a mile or so of this, I had it in my head that this street was actually a giant "U" and that we could cut across to the other side instead of walking all the way back around retracing our steps (along with the possibility of finding at least one craft booth we might have missed).?With authority and confidence, I declared that all we need to do is to take this side street and we?d be right back at the beginning.?And so we walked as the lights and crowds disappeared from sight and soon we found ourselves wondering through darkened streets in a very poor section of town, populated mostly with rum bars, and pool halls.Suddenly a scruffy man came out of the pool hall and asked us if we were lost and if he might be of assistance.?I told him we were just on our way back to the "Gap" and he told me that we were going the wrong direction.(Impossible!I thought to myself).?Anyway, he knew a "shortcut" and would be happy to show us.?I told him, "Oh, that?s OK, I?m sure you?re busy, just point us in the general direction and we?ll figure it from there."?Instead he led us to across the street and pointed down a narrow and even darker alley, telling us to take this to the end and we?d come out at the Gap.I thanked him and we set down the alley in the middle of the night with strange figures looming behind every fence and garbage can.?Suddenly we were but three silly Americans loaded with cash and wondering through the barrio at night.?I was thinking that back home in the vineyard at the end of the season sometimes the yellow jackets are everywhere and many people are freaked out by this and have been stung.?Strange, because I?m not afraid of them in the least and just casually yet confidently shoo them away like they were just large flies.?I?ve never been stung by one, because they only attack once they detect fear.At this moment, in this alley, I was wondering if a similar posture might apply.Midway through the alley we approached several men who were drinking beer and pounding on a makeshift table shouting and laughing.Was this a lynch mob??Were they playing poker, or dice??As we passed I remained calm and confident and ready to take charge of the situation.?Then I realized that they were playing a friendly game of dominos.?They waved as we passed and wished us a good evening, as polite as southern gentlemen.Eventually that alley emerged at the Gap.?In the end, everyone we ran across was friendly, helpful, and completely harmless.?I realized that there are not too many places on this earth where people are like this.?And as it turns out, statistically, this is one of the safest places you could ever want to find yourself lost in a barrio.So.(Anita) if you find yourself here take a little time to get to know the local culture and interact with the people here.?You will find them friendly and helpful and genuine in their desire to help.?Tourism is their livelihood and being cordial to visitors is practically a cultural imperative.4.The Five Million Dollar VillaReal Estate prices have exploded on this island since the last time I was here some 10 years a go.?Gone are the little wooden beach huts, replaced with mansions and expensive hotels.?At one point there was a little tiny run down house on the beach on a lot 60 feet wide.?It was for sale for five million dollars.?Damn, I think it was about $50K the last time.?I suppose I should have bought it then!5.The Fish MarketIn the little fishing village of Oistins, there is a large fish market where the catch is brought in and sold fresh, very fresh.?It does not smell like fish in the least, and swordfish, tuna, marlin, and other large fish are carved like steaks and ordered by the slice.The street?was lined with colorful little huts, each containing a walk up restaurant where your fish is prepared, and grilled outdoors to perfection.?Sandy was in heaven.?I suppose it?s too bad I really don?t like fish.So we sat down at one of the picnic tables and ordered fish with all the fixin?s.?Max had sailfish, and Sandy fresh tuna.?I ordered the Marlin.?It came and smelled not of fish.?It tasted like a fine steak and I was blown away.?God, I like Marlin!?Reggae played in the background, and Banks Beer flowed nonstop and the humid warm evening swallowed me whole.We finished with coconut ice cream and splurged on a taxi ride back to the hotel.Not a bad way to spend one?s 26th anniversary.?The day was so relaxed and complete that we both forgot.Your turn!Four days on the island passes in an instant.?We had time to do some of the regular things like swimming, an inland tour, and a trip down the coast on a sailing catamaran.The Caribbean has a thousand islands and a hundred cultures.?If you find yourself there, above all relax and go with the flow.?Enjoy the hospitality of the locals and be quick to tip for good service.?Get out and see something new, off the beaten path, because those are the best experiences that may ever come your way.(More photos on my albums page) |
|
