Barbados

BARBADOS

Barbados was fabulous! Exchanging a Boston winter for a lush tropical island was the year’s best bargain so far. My hotel, the Rainbow Reef, was quite modest but just right for me. I arrived just before 4:00 and was served a free rum punch while my room was being prepared. I repaired to the gazebo which they have situated at the water’s edge, overlooking a crashing surf. This turned out to be my favorite place to alight and when the sun set, it was a near-religious experience. I vowed to be there every day at the same time. Only one night did I fail to appear, but whenever I did, a rum punch was always at the end of my left arm.
I intended to spend the entire vacation lazing about and reading, but I did get out every day and Did Something. But the reading was real. I devoured four books while I was there or in transit. Nirvana!
The first thing that I responded to in this rediscovered Eden was the vegetation. I’ve always been mad about palm trees; on this trip I finally took the opportunity to learn to distinguish between them. On my first bus ride, to Speightstown, I sat next to a young college student who very kindly identified the various trees we passed. I think my favorite was the breadfruit, with its large glossy digitate leaves and heavy fruit. (These are not native to the island but were brought by Captain Bligh.) The most beautiful trees are the Flame of the Forest, with flowers like bright vermilion demitasse cups. I found myself always looking out for the traveler’s tree, with its hug fan-like fronds spread out like a peacock’s display. And of course, there are flowers everywhere, dripping from every patch of green.
I’d hoped to spot exotic birds, but the most common are grackles and mourning doves. I did see two varieties of hummingbird, however, and the bananaquit, the yellow bird celebrated in the calypso song. From the first day I scanned the treetops for green monkeys, but to no avail, until somewhat later when I traveled inland. I’d expected to see a wilderness of them perennially cartwheeling overhead, but they’re not common in the more populous areas.
But maybe the best thing about Barbados is the people. They were warm and welcoming and friendly. The Bajan ladies are always impeccably dressed and stylish. Older ladies dress with great dignity and usually wear hats. The men are nice, too, but it was the women I warmed to especially. If there is racial tension in Barbados, I never caught a whiff of it. On the entire trip I only encountered ONE beggar, a tattered little man who scampered alongside for a minute, but who cheerfully fell away when I asked him to.
Predictably, I ate a lot of seafood. Flying fish is common on menus and I had my fill. The best meal was the quirkiest. In the town of Oistins, they have a fish fry every Friday and Saturday night. I took the rattletrap bus down the mountain to the sea and wandered around the town till dusk, when the fish fry starts. In a seaside park, rickety little stands are set around with their fresh-from-the-sea offerings on chalkboard. My meal was marlin – new to me – impeccably grilled with a luscious barbecue sauce, served up with pigeon peas and rice, chopped pineapple, and salad. And the ever-welcome rum punch. I’ve seldom had a meal that good; it was the gustatory highlight of the trip. Second best was Italian, at a place called Luigi’s: pasta slathered with masses of seafood in a brown sauce.
The island bus service is superb. I took a long ride up the west coast to Speightstown, then back through a lovely place with the unfelicitous name of Holetown, and down to Bridgetown, the capital. It’s not a beautiful city, and the traffic is hellish, but I liked it.
Other trips were rather better. I descended in the Atlantis Submarine to cruise among the coral reefs for an hour, and it was spectacular. The lowest depth we got to was 147 feet, and we saw a symphony of marine life. I was a bit edgy at first, wondering if my claustrophobia would kick in, but it didn’t. Even the trip out to the pilot boat was a visual feast, through water of an unbelievable jade green.
The Barbados Wildlife Reserve was even better. One wanders through a forest looking at wild agouti, deer, hundreds of tortoises, alligators, flamingoes, hares, iguanas, an aviary full of exotics, and, supposedly, green monkeys. Try as I might, I couldn’t spot one. I spent about four hours there (the guidebooks say it’s good for an hour or two) and watched a very comical mating dance between one very puffed-up peacock and several females. They regarded his gyrations with imperial indifference and eventually he deflated his train and stalked off, still horny, his amour-propre badly bruised. Afterwards I walked across to the Grenade Hall forest, a stunning rain forest, but the monkeys weren’t there either. When I emerged from this mini-paradise, the lady at the entrance told me the monkeys had returned from their regular foray into the fruit trees and could now be seen being fed, so I went back.
There were dozens of the little imps cavorting about, sucking on oranges and occasionally breaking off from the group to explore a lady’s purse. An area the size of a child’s wading pool had been filled with chopped oranges. Two large tortoises had wandered into the middle, and monkeys were sitting on them like hassocks, placidly feasting on fruit. That was the one time I bitterly regretted not bringing a camera.
On my last full day I took a bus across to the dramatic east coast, the Andromeda Botanical Gardens my goal. The town of Bathsheba must be the most beautiful spot on earth: a dramatic surf rolls onto a beach dotted about with huge rock formations. It’s a favorite spot for surfers, and there are virtually no tourists milling about. I stayed long enough to have some Bajan fish fritters and a couple of Banks beers and visit with a heart-breakingly beautiful young surfer from Maine who was as captivated with the place as I was.
The Botanical Gardens were hypnotic, a place to become lost in. The guidebooks lay out two different walks. One takes about half an hour, the other about forty-five minutes. I took both and stayed for three hours. Every kind of tropical plant grows there, from towering bearded figs to the most delicate of orchids. At some level I must be a botanist manqué, for this place was heaven on earth to me and I had to tear myself away to get back for my sunset. It was, alas, rush hour, and the bus was stuffed. I ended up being pinned to my seat by a mountainous woman whose skin, oddly, was cool to the touch. I wasn’t really miserable, just covered with lady. We kept stopping for great masses of students to crowd onto the bus, chattering with delight at being released from school. They were delightful to watch and listen to as only the young are.
This was my first trip to the Caribbean. I can’t imagine that there’s a better place to visit in the whole vast bowl of that enchanting sea. I see no need to explore the other islands, and I’m certain that I’ll be back.