Hey, we’re going to Barbados...

Sitting on the deck of the Bequia Express we watched the hustle and bustle of the quaint Port Elizabeth. I was quite sad to leave as we had enjoyed being stationary for 2 weeks! Vehicles were reversed onto the old boat and pallets of building blocks and cement were disgorged at a leisurely pace only found in typical Caribbean style; finally the warps were released and ramp raised as the engine vibrated nosily beneath us. However rather than pulling away from the dock the ferry slammed violently back onto the jetty sending deck hands and dock workers scattering in all directions...so they can move quickly! It transpired the gears had stuck in reverse! Twenty minutes later we finally pulled out of port straight into a very rough sea...we didn’t spy any life jackets and sat quietly, slightly stony faced, as the boat rolled and pitched alarmingly. In case you think we were over reacting we had been told the previous night that one of the ferries had gone down only last year..., well I suppose it is important to know the local history.

I will say it straight and no caveats: Sorry St.Vincent. A few postings ago I lambasted St.Vincent quite mercilessly. Well this time we had a great taxi guy, super hotel room and a dinner whose food and service was second to none... Opps! The next day saw us travelling to Barbados and despite the good press I had been giving LIAT they finally started to live upto their reputation and lost FOG’s bag. Well, it might have been worse...it could have been mine.

One of the interesting aspects of travelling the Caribbean is the diversity between the islands; Barbados was no exception. It seemed quite populated, not only with people but cars. After the tranquillity of Dominica and Bequia the first experience of Barbados was a traffic jam. Saying this, Barbados has a ‘buzz’ which you feel immediately on arrival. We took the new highway up the West coast and had our first experience of a Caribbean dual-carriage way...seemingly you overtake any way you can and there isn’t a designated slow lane: daunting for the first time driver. Finally we found our hotel in Mullins a few yards from the beach but secluded by a lush garden. Well all I can say is that we have been very fortunate with our accommodation on this trip and Bayfield House really was the cherry on the cake.

Bayfield House with owner and son.

Trevor had us settled in (to a rather palatial room); sitting at the bar by the pool with a rum punch quicker than you can say “oh, I shouldn’t really...alright then!” The only description for Bayfield is a boutique hotel and for once the old cynical MOG was silenced. The next three days we toured the island, in the south is the tour operator type resorts, to the West are the ‘exclusive’ places and of course the calm Caribbean sea. The East coast of the island has a totally different feel about it with rollers smashing into the rocks send plumes of salt spray high into the air; causing my camera flash to jam later on that day... We did manage to get hopelessly lost but actually it was rather enjoyable driving down old tracks and seeing the real Barbados.




East coast






We were recommended a visit to the Waterside Cafe in the centre of Bridgetown as the live music is a Dixie Jazz band...this was MOG type of music. We set about tackling infamous one-way system; as usual we spent an age going round in circles. On reaching the town centre we spotted the bridge we were told to cross...yes, you can predict the outcome. Mounting the pavement we headed for the bridge over a pedestrian area, down a four lane highway the wrong way, only for a few yards, causing quite a lot of excitement from the oncoming cars and a host of locals who were banging on the car roof gesticulating frantically at us. We were then confronted with market stalls blocking our way…, no means of escape. Taking a deep breath and spying an approaching crowd, the window was wound down and with profuse apologies and the explanation: “sorry we’re English”, (In a ‘plum’ Surrey accent), promptly traversed the 4 lane high way over the pedestrian area, again, and skidded onto the other carriage way like something out of a scene from ‘The Italian Job’. Finally parked, and seated at the Cafe, MOG was desperate for a beer only to be reminded he had to drive home...well at least the food was good and music excellent...

Jazz band at the Waterfront

We met up with the family we had become friendly with on Bequia and had a very special relaxed evening at their house right in the centre, and highest point, of the island. Unfortunately we have no idea where this is as we followed the son from our hotel, who is a rally car driver, say no more, and took us the back roads in the very non-touristy areas of Barbados...in fact, we were possibly the only English to have been to these parts since Nelson’s time!

Our final evening in the Caribbean was spent quietly at the hotel. The owner, who normally specialises in good quality English home cooking, produced a more local dish of salt fish and bread fruit..., all I can say is wow. It was, however, followed by the lightest bread and butter pudding we have ever tasted. Then we were initiated in the new after dinner task that has become the rage in Barbados over the last year or so...snail hunting. No, it’s not a spelling error...snails; big horrible looking ‘African Snails’ that arrived, without a visa, 3-4 years ago. In a very short time they have infested the island and can devour a garden quicker than MOG can take the top off a bottle of beer. There is one advantage of this strange ritual, the host ploughs rum punch down you as a thank you; well it is exhausting chasing those snails...

‘Jammin n’ liming’ in schooners from Tobago Cays to Mustique

The longest we have stayed at anyone place has been in Bequia, I think that alone demonstrates the rather special feeling about the place...but it’s not all a bed of roses: I’ll come back to that later. The island is so small you continually bump into the same people; which actually gives a somewhat comforting feel. Our apartment at the Gingerbread was proving to be an excellent choice as we were right in the thick of the activities; especially over the Easter weekend

Gingerbread hotel and apartments:

Ours is the one on the right...not far to the beach or the bar!

Meeting fellow travellers can sometimes be a humbling experience. One young French couple already have an 18 month old toddler, with another due in a few weeks, are intending to sail a repaired 27’ hurricane wrecked boat..., circumnavigating the world! Another Polish couple have a similar plan in a 30’ yacht and just stop to find work when they run out of money ...now that’s free living; but not for Old Gits!

Easter weekend brought many day-trippers from St.Vincent, ferries stuffed full of weekend revellers.

Easter Ferry...

The quiet town of Port Elizabeth suddenly vibrated to the thumping heavy beat of a sort of modern reggae, FOG did try to enlighten MOG but he just grunted! Stalls were erected all over the town and in grounds of the municipal building and churches. Barb-a-ques, beer tents, coconut vendors, arts and crafts gave the place a Caribbean version of a village fete atmosphere.

Maypole dancing & locals enjoy Easter festival

Alcohol abounded but there was no loutish behaviour and we saw why...

MOG should be careful, mixing his drinks!

As the original plan had been to charter a yacht we did find ourselves with time on our hands. FOG took the opportunity to find a ‘decent’ hairdresser...

Dawn & hair – She should have saved her money... (Opps)

MOG on the other hand went diving an old German tug boat that was sunk in 1996. It sits upright on the seabed and diving down to it is a thrilling experience. Already the boat is encrusted in plants and coral and an abundance of fish...oh for an underwater camera!

Friendship Rose under full sail

You don’t come all this way and not venture out into the Grenadines. The ‘Friendship Rose’ is a 90’ schooner built on Bequia in the 60s.

Skipper eyeing the camera with suspicion

The skipper had built it with his brothers and working such a large boat with no winches required a large crew and all hands on deck...

MOG tries to show them how it’s done!

Way anchor!

Our destination was the marine conservation area of Tobago Cays. These uninhabited cluster of islands is truly something out of a film set, and that is exactly what it has been...the most recent being the ‘Pirates of the Caribbean’.

Boat on the reef at Tobago Cays

We snorkelled with turtles and one particular ‘old fella’, we were told later could have been a hundred years old, just grazed on the sea grass quite oblivious to the ecstatic flapping of tourists floating on the surface above him. We then moved onto the reef itself which is reputed to be one of the top 7 in the world. The wind had started to increase and made snorkelling on the reef quite precarious as we floated very close to stinging corals and large black sea urchins lurked menacingly in crags their spins waiting for a carelessly placed foot or knee.

Lunch on the old schooner was first class and washed down with a cold beer made life seem very pleasant..., this is what ‘liming’ is all about then? However the long sail back tacking into the wind did have FOG eying me with her ‘look’...”you were going to bring me out here in a small yacht.” Maybe it was fortunate we never did manage to charter a yacht; I’m not sure the marriage would have lasted! It took a while before we entered Admiralty Bay with a few sighs of relief from some passengers...

Waves over the bow...

The next day we were on another schooner, ‘Passat’ heading towards Mustique...definitely FOG country. Snorkelling was once again on offer but FOG firmly shook her head: tropical celebrity spotting was the order of the day...

Both the Passat & Friendship Rose travel to Mustique

We were tendered to shore and in true tourist mode we took a local taxi. Our guide turned out to be quite a character with a good sense of humour. Tommy Hillfiger’s house he particularly recommended for rent...a bargain at $125,000 per week! We ventured down to a beach and caught sight of Gerry Hall, ex-husband Mick Jagger and Bryan Adams’ houses.

Mick Jagger’s House on left

It was one of those special moments you rarely experience in life. As we stood in awe of the houses in front of us, Mick and Bryan were engrossed in a ‘jammin’ session. They saw us and hailed us over asking whether we would mind joining them...we were obliging of course; I mean it would be rude not to. Mick particularly loved the OGGY idea...; then a loud horn woke me from my day dream and we clambered back into the taxi...!

Of course we had to stop at the Firefly for a drink; the bar had an incredible view of the bay below. MOG gulped at the prices on the drinks menu and nearly fainted as FOG ordered a champagne cocktail... A sharp look and “If you add up all the beers you drink...” MOG sat back and closed his eyes muttering for a local beer. Unfortunately it seemed the tropical celebrity hunt was not going well, we suspect they retreat back to their houses when the schooners are spotted on the horizon. FOG sighed heavily as she spent most of the trip explaining to MOG who all the celebrities were! He actually thought Shania Twain must have been an American author... We walked down to the infamous Basil’s Bar and FOG sat in anticipation her head swivelling round like an owl...but Mick and company remained firmly entrenched in MOG’s daydream...

After a week we had become accustomed to the Bequia way of life, especially shopping. When the doleful lament of a conch shell sounded early in the morning we all hurried to the fish market for our day’s supply.

Real fresh fish...

The fruit and vegetable market had numerous vendors and despite a huge sign stating customers would not be ‘harassed’ that is exactly what happened. In the process of purchasing vegetables from a quiet lady we were harassed by her neighbouring stallholder; but we held our ground..., our confidence was growing!

A disappointing aspect of this island is the attitude of the vast majority of Bequians. They do not have any concept of service. Examples are too numerous to mention but MOG especially became exasperated when entering a bar to be totally ignored, even when it was empty. The worst part is the resigned shrug of the shoulder as the barman finally shuffles reluctantly over and raises his chin in a questioning manner; no enquiry or pleasantries. MOG did lose his cool with one particular obnoxious barman and when paying asked him if he understood what charisma meant... A blank stare, then that “look”..., I think he finally cottoned onto to sarcasm!

But you just can’t beat the sunsets here...

Yet another sunset!

The soothing effect of Bequia...

On the ferry to Bequia the dark cloud of St.Vincent receded into the distance. We chatted to the two British secret service guys we had met at our hotel; they may not be ‘00’ status, but spies none the less. They had some cock’n’ bull story that they were headmasters from the UK working with the West Indian University on modern teaching practises...as if any educational authority would fund two of their top people to go on a jaunt to the Windies...I don’t think so. They did attempt to play the part in the evenings by pretending to prepare lectures; all I can say is, it had better be about the inside of a beer bottle...! We also caught them taking pictures as the quay side...definitely up to no good. (Only joking lads!)

The two 'British spies exchange information while two ladies discuss life on the ferry


























When the ferry tugged into the small town of Port Elizabeth you noticed people’s shoulders relax. It was so picturesque that no photograph would do it just, but I’ll try...

I said I’d try...





























We were staying at the Frangipani Hotel and once again we found we were rip-off by a local taxi, $15 for 200 yards! We do seem to attract them...;however nothing could dampen our spirits as we entered the cool shade of the bar and reception area; right on the beach where all the ‘yachties’ moored their tenders.

Tenders in the sunset

Shown to our room, slightly elevated on the hillside, we opened the doors onto the veranda and there was the whole of Admiral Bay spread out in front of us. The bay was filling up rapidly in preparation for the Bequia Easter Regatta. Boats from all nations mingled with the locals and their fishing boats...






Submerged fishing boat. At first glance you would imagine this boat is in trouble...not so. It is being submerged to allow the timbers to expand in readiness for the regatta.













The first afternoon and evening on Bequia was, not to put too fine a point on it, magical. Boobies dived into the water all around us fishing for their supper, as we ambled contently into the town.


Frigate Birds, locally known as ‘Boobies’, dive for fish in the harbour.



We sampled a few of the bars before walking back to our hotel along the beach and waterfront. Our two lost friends had returned; no, not the spies, but laughter and smiles. A good meal and a bottle of wine boosted the Old Gits morale and resolve. A healthy discussion on the finances resulted in a few changes which, on reflection, may even enhance the OGGY experience... Some appropriate cost cutting, without killing the ‘spirit’ of OGGY, would accompany MOG having to find a job when we tour and stay in Italy for the summer. (Why just MOG?). We were real Gap Year travellers now...

FOG settling in to Bequia life.

We met many people in the first few days mainly due to the relaxed atmosphere and almost a comradeship between all inhabitants, local or otherwise. Only the larger groups of Americans remained aloof as did the ‘locals’ from St.Vincent. Bequia is a small island and it was surprising how you kept bumping into the same people, normally in the bars. We did experience a small problem in where we were going to stay. The charter boat idea had now totally faded and a lot of apartments were booked over the Easter period. Eating out all the time was starting to become expensive and a little tiring, the service locally is slow to say the least, but eventually we found an apartment in the Gingerbread Hotel with a well equipped kitchen...right on the water front. With our accommodation assured we then booked a day’s sub-aqua diving. Dive Bequia were virtually next door to the hotel and ensconced there was the irresistible Charlie. Although Charlie is over 40 years old he still has quite childish tendencies..., one of them is stealing your pen while you fill in the dive forms...

Charlie... enough said














The two Old Gits however didn’t do themselves justice. Both hyperventilated on the surface before the dive started only to realise the ‘STAB’ jackets were so tight neither of us could breathe! However the two dives were great fun with beautiful coral of all types and a multitude of fish, crustaceans and turtles. Oh, for an underwater camera...!

MOG scrabbles up, and FOG looking more composed

Our second excursion was to rent a car and see the island...which only took a morning! MOG was determined to have his ride in a Mini Moke; his wish was granted..., but in PINK! I had forgotten how bad the old Morris gears had been..., it was akin to stirring porridge!

MOG & Moke...Checking the engine: The 35 year old Morris 850cc engine was true to form and broke down!















The ‘locals’ here are very friendly and we bumped into two brothers, John & David with their wives and some of the brood. John & his wife Jenny live on the island and took pity on us having to eat in restaurants every night(!); we were invited to dinner . When they saw our Mini Moke they insisted on picking us up and thank heavens they did. The house was perched high up on the hillside, with an impressive view of the bay and the drive up would have challenged even the most hardy of 4*4...the Pink mobile would have ended up down a ravine! It was so nice to chat around a dinner table and MOG made a pig of himself with the excellent home cooking. (Yes, I forget my camera again, but not quite the thing to do snapping away in someone’s home!) They had designed themselves and had the main wooden house pre-built in Brazil. All went well as the two containers were offloaded and the wood man-handled up the mountain side, until they discovered the instructions were all in Portuguese!

Typical sunset in Bequia




















Over the Easter weekend the amount of boats increased quite startlingly and the buzz of the place was electric...so were the occasional free sponsored bars...hurray for Heineken & Mount Gay Rum.









Frangipani’s beach bar on race night...!













FOG became embroiled in an argument (discussion she says) between a local and the Irish barman..., but it all ended happily!

Eye ball to eyeball...but FOG to the rescue and all ‘friends’













The sunsets in Bequia did have that quality that would sooth any troubled brow...

Off to see the rest of the Grenadines...as I keep saying: life’s a bitch!










Girls relax in the clear blue Caribbean sea...














The facts blog has been updated to include Dominica:

http://www.facts-oldgitsgapyear.blogspot.com/