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...
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