Little did I know when I booked this vacation that I was booking during one of Barbados’ busiest holidays in the summer (this is their off-peak season, most people travel here in the winter, its especially popular with people from especially dreary-winter places like England) I thought I’d get a mostly deserted beach to myself! Not the case this past Saturday, Sunday and Monday. It is “Crop Over festival” time!
Here’s a description of what Crop Over Festival is:
“Crop Over, a five-week summer festival, is Barbados' most popular and colourful festival. It's origins can be traced back to the 1780's, a time when Barbados was the world's largest producer of sugar. At the end of the sugar season, there was always a huge celebration to mark the culmination of another successful sugar cane harvest - the Crop Over celebration. As the sugar industry in Barbados declined, so too did the Crop Over festival and in the 1940's the festival was terminated completely. However, the festival was revived in 1974 and other elements of Barbadian culture were infused to make the extravaganza that exists today ..... an event that attracts thousands of people from across the globe.”
Yup, thousands of people from across the globe… luckily Barbados is also renowned for its crazy amount of hotels! So not everyone was booked at mine (poor devils).
On my flight from Atlanta to Bridgetown, I sat next to a woman from Trinidad who was flying in for the festival. "You cho-ose da wrang week-kend ta coome for ta relax," (You chose the wrong weekend for R&R) she said to me. "Tis crap dung festivahl!" You can imagine my consternation. "Crap dung" festival? Uhh... where exactly was I going?? What she was really saying was "Crop done festival."
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Yesterday I decided to wander a bit off the hotel property, so I packed up my water bottle, strapped on my backpack and sandals and headed of to a nearby beach called “Foul Bay” which is supposed to be a good place to see sea turtles, if you’re lucky! I walked down the long, long, long driveway out of the resort (its much shorter by cab!) and turned left. By this time, I was dripping sweat. But it really brought me back to the old days of my shippie adventures – when I’d take off walking from the dock in Puerto Rico, and find the local bus stop – not really a “bus stop” by American terms, just the place where everyone knew the bus stopped! It cost a quarter to ride the bus anywhere on the island. I had fun walking/bussing/exploring. But I digress. Foul Bay wasn’t very far at all – that is, if it had been 75 and dry. But it was nearly 95 with 90% humidity. Lol. So it seemed like a VERY long walk indeed. On the way there I was stopped by a pleasant local man waiting to catch the bus at the “bus stop” (same deal here with bus stops). He said in his friendly pidgin English “Gal, wheah yoo gwine?” (Hello there miss, where are you off to today?) I pointed up the road and said “To the beach”
“Yah noo eet ees like Labah dai in New Yahk heah noh. Eets beegest ‘olidae of them ahhl. Ees a beeg partee in B-town, C’mon I tayak you.” (This weekend is a huge holiday for us, its like Labor Day in New York!, Theres a big party in Bridgetown, come with me, I’ll show you)
“Thank you, I know, but I like beaches, not parties!”
“Oh, den I teyall you whatchu gwine do – you haav a ve-ry pleasahnt day!” (Oh, well in that case, you have a lovely day!)
Lol. I arrived at the beach and found it was much more of a local hangout – tons of families having picnics near the beach. Not many of the locals in the water, but tons up in the trees. I snapped a couple of pictures and sat a while. Took a quick swim. Then headed back. I felt like I was invading their personal space during their coveted holiday, so I was all too happy to return to the Crane and giant pool complex, and drink water, loads and loads of water!
Foul Bay
Part of the Pool Complex with a view of the ocean...
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Today I was supposed to go zip-lining through the jungle (
Zip-lining, aka: a flying fox, zip wire, aerial runway, death slide or tyrolean crossing - my favorite is the "Death slide!") Sadly, this morning I received a phone call saying the tour had been cancelled. No reason given, just cancelled. Given the fact that we’re talking about death-sliding on a cable through the jungle, I’ll let it be at that. Actually this is the third time in my life I’d planned to zip-line. But I’ve still never been. Something always happens to stop me going. But hey, who am I to complain? Because like I said before, we’re talking about flying through the jungle on a cord at crazy speeds. If my guardian angels don’t want me going, there’s probably a good reason! I won’t argue... I'll just keep trying (ever-so-gently) to go at different intervals in life.
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Today the resort has cleared out considerably! Way less people at the pools and on the beach! Its lovely. One thing I could do without though is the Cruise ship in port! Lol. I’m a total snot, I know. The Royal Caribbean Adventurer is ported in Bridgetown today and though there aren’t many, at least one busload of passengers and one busload of prissy dancers from onboard are on my beloved beach. I know, I know, I found Crane beach when I worked on ships, that is how I knew to come here for vacation. BUT, I never came here as a crabby passenger (the ones on the beach spent at least 15-minutes arguing with the beach attendants about not being able to use the resort’s loungers) or a prissy dancer. Good golly do I NOT miss having to see those ridiculous, egotistical dancers around all the time. (Can I get an amen from the ex-shippies?) Just seeing them made me cringe! And of course they parked right in front of me, when nearly the entire beach was empty! Loud, obnoxious and smoking… blah. So I went for a last dip in the ocean with my sunburnt shoulders (I’m quite burnt from yesterday!) and took off to the pool complex again (which was a bit fun for me, knowing those brats couldn’t follow me up there. Hehehe.) and I ordered a consolation virgin Pina Colada. I’m getting old and ridiculous. But I can live with me.
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FYI: I’ve taken a bubble bath every night I’ve been here. ☺
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When I went to the store the other day, I bought things like chicken and Pasta to make an easy couple of dinners. I also bought a bunch of fruit. Mangoes, grapes, apples, peaches. I put the mangoes and peaches on top of my fridge to ripen a bit. I ate a mango yesterday and peach this morning. This afternoon, when I came back to my room after frolicking at the beach, ignoring the RCL dancers, rolling my eyes at the passengers and enjoying the pools, I found that a bird had been kind enough to eat chunks of my remaining peach and mango. Apparently it thought my fruit looked as tasty as I did! Oh well, at least I still have the grapes and apples (In the fridge - unless, of course birds have found a way to open fridge doors!) Drat! I should have taken a photo of my mangled fruit.
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The rain rolled in this afternoon. Summer is the rainy season in Barbados. Hurricane season everywhere else in the Caribbean, but the last hurricane to hit here was in 1950-something. Here it just rains. I periodically glimpsed the grey fuzz over the ocean draw nearer and nearer over the pages of my book, until finally the cool afternoon breeze brought tiny, refreshing drops of rain and plopped them on my warm toes, propped up on the balcony.
The approaching rainstorm in the distance
And then the smell hit me. Mmmm. I’m a big fan of the way the Caribbean smells. It doesn’t need any help normally to just smell delicious (mind you, you have to steer clear of the local surfer guys who I don’t think have taken a shower in their life! – they REEK from ten feet away)… the only thing that adds to the gorgeous ambiance of the Caribbean smell is the rain. Warm rain.
There is a downside to this heavenly aromatic gift, or rather, about a 11 million little downsides. They’re small, black, buzz around annoyingly and leave horrific, itchy welts all over. Yup, you guessed it, mosquitoes. The rainy season invariably brings hosts and swarms of the nasty bloodsuckers. And I ALWAYS get eaten alive when mosquitoes are around. I think they know I like chocolate.
My first night here wasn’t bad. The second night, I asked for a mosquito net (there are no screens on windows or doors here). Last night at from dusk I had to sit in my bed behind the net to keep the mosquitoes from devouring me. I read and watched a movie on my laptop. There are three things you can do to stop the mosquitoes here: 1) Stay behind the mosquito net. 2) Get in the water. 3) Stand in the wind. Too bad you can’t do all three while sleeping. I'll have to take a picture of my "collection" of mosquito bites. Hehehe.
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The housekeeper just came in and closed up all of my windows (Tah keep oat tha rayun). For the sake of the hardwood floors, I understand why, but the minute she leaves I’ll be flinging at least one wide open again!
The rainy view from my window at 3:30pm
