Unforgettable Meals From the Road

Food is one of life's greatest joys so naturally, one of the greatest joys of traveling is getting to try out local dishes while indulging in another culture.  Some of my fondest travel memories involve memorable meals I've enjoyed on the road and the people I shared them with.  From the open-air restaurants of the Caribbean and Central America to the cozy pubs of rural Scotland, here are some of my most memorable meals from the road.

Somewhere Outside of Las Vegas, Nevada
While in Las Vegas, I rented a car and took a 3-day road trip in the Mojave Desert and explored some of the more remote regions of Nevada, Arizona and California. While driving along a country road somewhere in the middle of the desert, I came across a diner standing alone among some cacti and Joshua Trees.  It looked like something you would see in one of those old western movies.  I went in.  I don't even remember what the name of the place was or what I had to eat, but I remember the atmosphere.  I was greeted with an air of subtle weariness, perhaps because I was an outsider.  I remember the view - vast desert and distant mountain ranges.  Although I felt a little uncomfortable in that remote place, it ranks high on my list of intriguing places that I've stopped at for a meal in the middle of nowhere.

Les Isles de la Madeleine, Quebec
Like most Canadians, I love a heaping plate of greasy, cheese-and-gravy-soaked Poutine.  What most people don't know is "real" poutine (made with cheese curds instead of melted mozzarella cheese) is rarely served outside of French-speaking areas of Canada.  That's why I just had to try the dish while I was in Les Isles de la Madeleine, a group of islands belonging to the predominately French province of Quebec.  I took this trip with my mother as she always wanted to go there to see the place where her grandmother came from. We found a nice little place overlooking a beautiful seaside panorama and enjoyed the best plate of poutine I've ever had.  And yes, it was made with real cheese curds. 

Playa Del Carmen, Mexico 
In Playa Del Carmen, I stayed at a small boutique-style hotel that offered a buffet at breakfast and the food was extremely good.  The first morning, I wandered down to the open-air dining area and was amazed at the choices available!  The food was better than I imagined it would be and I soon learned that the Mexican food I eat in Canada isn't real Mexican food at all.  The other amazing thing about meals at this hotel? The friendly staff interacted with me and even sat with me at my table.  They wanted to know everything about me.  Where was I from?  Is there snow there?  Do I know so-and-so from Winnipeg?  Even though they could barely speak English, they made an effort to make me feel welcome and appreciated and I had no problem answering all of their questions as I had many of my own.  

Havana, Cuba
Before I left for Cuba, I was told by others that the food is not very good.  I stayed at an all-inclusive resort and during the first few days, forced my way through a number of horrible meals (think dry bread, rancid dairy products, rotten fruit and tasteless other items) before trying a meal at a restaurant off the resort.  I was in Havana with a group of other tourists and we decided to do lunch at a small restaurant.  Now, when people tell me that the food in Cuba is disgusting, I tell them "no it's not! It's only disgusting in those cheap all-inclusives" because the meal I had in that restaurant was excellent in every way possible.  Not only was I able to enjoy a delicious, fresh, homemade meal served by the  friendliest staff, but I also got to enjoy it with a fantastic group of people from all over the world. 

Montezuma, Costa Rica
During the first leg of my travels in Costa Rica, I stayed at a lovely yoga retreat in the little surf town of Montezuma on the Nicoya Peninsula.  I can't pinpoint one particular meal during the whole week that was amazing because all the meals served were amazing and definitely among the best I've had in my entire life so far.  Fresh, organic produce and eggs taken directly from a nearby farm were used to prepare the five-course meals (appetizers, soup, salad, main course and dessert) and a softly-lit dining area overlooking the Pacific Ocean with a table big enough to seat two dozen people from all over the world made dining at this place an experience I won't soon forget.

  

La Fortuna, Costa Rica

During the second week of my adventure in Costa Rica, I spent time exploring the area of La Fortuna which included a day at the luxurious Tabacon Hot Springs Spa.  After a relaxing day soaking in the hot springs, I and the group of travelers I arrived there with were treated to a lovely meal at the on-site restaurant.  A huge buffet was served with an abundance of fresh, delicious items.  I think I heard about a dozen different languages around the table that night.  Sharing a meal with people from so many different cultures is an opportunity I never turn down. There was storytelling, email-swapping and language lessons.  And the meal?  Phenomenal!

Derricks, Barbados
I found an excellent deal on a week-long apartment rental for my trip to Barbados and the rental came with the option to have meals served three times a day.  Every morning, afternoon and evening, the lady who ran the place prepared a homemade meal right in front of me.  I enjoyed these meals in the pretty outdoor dining area where I could watch the mischievous little green monkeys playing in the nearby trees.  These meals were all made with the healthiest and freshest ingredients and were delicious. The best part about the meals was the fact that I had never heard of the recipes before so I got to try brand-new-to-me dishes.  Eating a meal each day in a home-like environment made it seem like I was visiting an old friend rather than traveling solo in a foreign country.

Pearson International Airport, Toronto
I know it seems odd that anyone could have a memorable meal in an airport let alone one of North America's biggest and busiest.  However, amidst the chaos that is Pearson International, I found a quiet little sandwich bar tucked away near my gate.  I grabbed the one thing that appealed to me in the display box which was a vegetarian sandwich, and took a seat at the back where I could watch everything going on outside the little peaceful oasis.  That sandwich was worth every cent of the 8 bucks I paid for it because it was one of the most delicious veggie sandwiches I ever had.  The coffee was good too and as I sat back, relaxed and prepared to indulge in my hot caffeinated beverage, a young man with a guitar took a seat just outside the shop and, despite the noise and chaos around him, he started to play. 

Edinburgh, Scotland
Within hours of arriving in Edinburgh, I had already hit the streets.  I knew I only had three days in the city and wanted to make the most my time.  I was dead tired, jet-lagged and starved but I walked over twenty kilometres that first day, exploring every nook and cranny of the downtown area.  By evening, I had to find something to eat, something quick and something nutritious.  Just around the corner from my hotel was a cozy little cafe.  I walked in and ordered a veggie sandwich.  The sandwich itself wasn't anything extraordinary, although it was quite good and definitely filled with veggies.  It was the atmosphere that accompanied my meal.  As I sat in a booth by the window that Friday night, the crowds were preparing for a wild night on the town.  I got a real taste of the excitement that transpires when tens of thousands of locals and international tourists intermingle for the evening's festivities.  As the streets grew more crowded, a lone bagpiper stopped right in front of the cafe and began to play.  He may have thought he was playing for the enjoyment of all those people on the street but in my mind, it seemed like that delightful serenade was made for my ears only.  

  

Broadford, Scotland

They say the best way to get to know a place is to wander around on foot.  I guess you can say I got to know Broadford quite well.  I arrived at my bed and breakfast in the early evening and the only thing on my mind was food.  I neglected to pick something up on the road and since it was getting late, it was difficult to find something to eat.  Not having a car available (and not wanting to waste money calling a cab), I started walking.  Of course, it being Scotland in September, I ended up wandering around aimlessly in rain, wind and cold.  I walked to the bottom of the hill where I had seen a few take-away restaurants.  No lights, no cars in the parking lots, no staff around.  Closed for the evening.  I walked some more.  I got hopelessly turned around and ended up going in circles and had no idea where I was or how to get back.  Finally, I found a tiny pub. Upon opening the door, I felt like I was walking onto the set of Coronation Street.  A cozy atmosphere filled with friendly locals watching sports and gossiping and laughing and carrying on.  I was greeted with a hearty welcome from the friendly barmaid who was happy to make a meal for me even though the kitchen had just closed.  She must have felt sorry for the soggy, wayward tourist.  I took a seat at the bar and was welcomed into the group of patrons who were interested in finding out more about this lone traveler looking for a bite to eat on a stormy night.   I enjoyed my meal and a pint and bid them all farewell before trekking back into the cold, wet night.   

 

 

Fort Augustus, Scotland

While I'm used to traveling alone and therefore eating alone, one of my most memorable meals was the one I enjoyed on my last evening touring the highlands and lowlands of Scotland.  I had spent five spectacular days with a dozen incredible people from all over the world. The last night of the tour was spent in a pretty little town not far from the banks of Loch Ness.  Upon arrival, we parted ways to check into our accommodations, which were scattered around town, and agreed to meet in an hour by the canal for dinner.  A lady from the United States was staying in the same bed and breakfast as me so we walked together.  Turns out we both had a really bad sense of direction.  We walked and walked and turned around several times when she admitted she had no clue where she was and neither did I.  Then the rain and wind came.  By the time we found it, we were both soaking wet and hysterical from laughing so hard at our misadventure.  Fort Augustus was not particularly bustling on that wet, cold night so by the time we got back into town, our group had dispersed and almost everything was closed.  We again found ourselves wandering around in the rain until we found a pizza shop that was still open. That night, as we sat eating pizza by a window overlooking a deserted street in a land foreign to us both, we talked about everything under the sun as if we were old friends who knew one another for years.  

 

 

 

 

Coastal Village in Barbados

Bridgetown, Barbados to Halifax, Nova Scotia - The Long Journey Home

I timed the shuttle to pick me up at Angler with enough time to get to the airport, check-in, go through security and have a minimal wait to board. But, of course, as often happens when dealing with air travel, it didn’t quite work out that way. At check-in, the agent advised me that my flight was several hours behind schedule. So I tried my best to make use of the extra time I had and found a little café where I bought a slice of pizza and a coffee.

I tried to kill some time by accessing the elusive airport WiFi which was still being quite elusive to me. Everyone around me seemed to be tinkering away on Facebook and checking emails but I was still unable to connect. I killed about an hour in the coffee shop…and killed the rest of the time browsing the duty-free shops. I found myself a couple of keychains, a nice beachbag for only ten dollars and a couple of pieces of stylish handmade beach jewelry. Sometimes I think this is why flights are delayed; people who would not normally shop in the airport resort to shopping in airports when they have nothing else to do while waiting for a delayed flight.

I wasn’t too upset by this surprise delay. After all, my trip home was to take more than 24 hours. 6.5-hour flight from Barbados to Toronto with a 10-hour layover at Pearson followed by another 2-hour flight to Halifax, a 3-hour wait there and a 5-hour shuttle drive to Cape Breton. An extra few hours wasn’t going to make much a difference.

It was close to ten o’clock when I arrived at Pearson International Airport in Toronto. Unfortunately, because my flight wasn’t departing until the next day, I had to retrieve my luggage and lug around with me all night and recheck it in the morning. I know that doesn’t really sound like a big deal but consider the fact that since waiting passengers are to keep their eyes on their luggage at all times (or risk having them confiscated by security) that means my luggage has to go everywhere with me. Everywhere. Have you ever tried maneuvering a suitcase around those small washroom stalls? Now that’s a challenge! Or how about trying to lug it through a narrow lineup to get your morning coffee at an airport café? At least as long as my luggage was with me, I knew it was safe…at least for the time being!

I was famished after that long flight so once I had my luggage in hand, I looked for something to eat. After spending 7 days on vacation, I was pretty near broke so I couldn’t really settle for more than a bagel and a cookie at Tim Horton’s. I skipped the coffee out of fear the caffeine would keep me awake and it was hard enough trying to get some rest in a busy airport.

I wandered around for a bit trying to kill some time and tire myself out (I am usually wound up after a long flight for some reason) before actively seeking out a somewhat quiet area to set up camp for the night. I found a decent spot in a corner near some windows. I unfolded my travel blanket and refolded it in two so that I was lying on one half of it and the rest was covering me. With myself, my travel pillow, my cell phone (for an alarm) and my wallet (to prevent being robbed while I slept) securely inside the blanket, I positioned myself facing my luggage which I had strategically placed with the zippers facing me. I always feel a little unsecure when sleeping in the main area of any airport. Inside a gate, everyone has already been through security but in the main area, anyone can walk in off the street and that’s a little unnerving especially in these tense times. It gives me a very vulnerable feeling.

Within seconds of my head hitting the pillow, the airport suddenly seemed louder. Vacuum cleaners were going, shops were closing, people were coming and going, a man sleeping a few feet away from me was snoring loudly and car doors were being slammed just outside that window. But amidst all that racket, I managed to pick out one sound that finally drowned out all the rest and that’s the sound that rocked me to sleep….almost quite literally. Someone was tuning a guitar. It sounded faint at first and than it got louder. I took my head out from the warmth and darkness of my blanket and looked around. Across the hall, seated in another waiting area was a young man strumming a guitar. I tried not to let him see me so he wouldn’t think he was being too loud and stop. I just lay my head back down on my pillow and listened and in the midst of all the hustle and bustle that is Pearson International Airport, I fell asleep to the beautiful sounds of a guitar being strummed.

I awoke a few hours later to my cell phone vibrating and proceeded to check-in for my flight. This time, my flight was on time and I made it to Halifax long before the next shuttle to Cape Breton. I grabbed a Starbucks latte and took a seat in the long corridor between the check-in area and baggage pickup and patiently waited for my ride. By the time the shuttle arrived, I was exhausted…and disappointed to see that there was quite the crowd already onboard. But I was lucky this time because there were no seats in the back so I got to sit in the front and much to the disappointment of my friendly and chatty driver who wanted to hear more about my trip down south, I fell asleep and didn’t wake up until Antigonish. It wasn’t until we reached the Canso Causeway that that dreadful after-vacation feeling set in. Every time I make that drive from the Halifax Airport to Cape Breton, that same feeling hits me at that exact same place in the trip. The Causeway always signifies home even though my house is still another 2 hours away. That feeling I am talking about? The one where the realization hits that the vacation is over and it’s time to re-enter the real world. No more palm trees and sand. Just sub-zero temperatures and snow.

My Last Day in Barbados...and Many More Lasts Until Next Time

The day I hate most on any vacation arrived; the day I had to leave and return home. But, I must say, as much as I loved it in Barbados, I was ready to get back home and see my cat, Captain Jack, and get back to my regular life. It’s true what they say about the Caribbean – time really does slow down. A week at home flies by in the blink of an eye while a week in the Caribbean feels like a month. I don’t know if this phenomenon has ever been scientifically proven but it’s well known among seasoned travelers who spend a lot of time in the region. Perhaps it’s the laid back lifestyle of the islands or perhaps the Caribbean is located in some sort of space anomaly or black hole that makes time go by slower. Whatever it is, a week is usually plenty of time for me and by the end of it, I’m sad to leave but ready to head home all the same.

My Last full day in Barbados – A Long Hike to Holtown and a Scary Bus Ride Back to Angler

I awoke early on my last day in Barbados to temperatures well over 30 degrees. So much for making it to Holtown before it got too hot. With a thick layer of sunscreen, my swimsuit under my clothes and a bottle of water in hand, I set out for the 4.5 kilometer hike to the town center and area of Payne’s Bay that was home to the majority of the shops and restaurants.

I walked along the road until I reached the little beach by the fish market and stopped to take a rest and dip my feet in the water to cool off. I walked a little more along the beach towards Holtown until I reached an area that was impassable because of the high tide. There was a path with a security guard on duty near a pretty swanky-looking condo or resort and I wasn’t sure if it was a public path or not. I didn’t feel like backtracking all the way back to the fish market so I just walked right on past the security guard, avoiding eye-contact as I went, and exited back onto the main road. I don’t even think he noticed me.

As I walked through the area of Sandy Lane, I passed some men who were doing some landscaping near the road. As I usually do when I pass anyone within earshot, I said “Hello, fine day isn’t it”, smiled and kept walking…with one of the young men in pursuit. I should just stick to not making eye contact at all when passing by groups of men working outdoors. For some strange reason they always seem to think that every woman who walks by and says “hello” is automatically in love with them! “So lady, where are you from?” He asked. “Canada” I said as I kept walking, secretly hoping he would take the hint and turn back. Normally, I will stop and talk to people if they are friendly but I was immediately getting bad vibes from this guy. That little voice in my head was saying “just keep walking”. “That’s what I thought. I like Canada. You have a husband who looks after you in Canada or is he back at the hotel waiting for you?” Ah yes, that sneaky inquiry about my absent husband that always seems to come up when I’m walking alone and a man takes any kind of interest in me. “No husband. I look after myself” I said assertively enough to catch him off guard. “Oh? I look after myself too. You can stay here with me and we’ll look after one another. Or we can go back to Canada whichever you prefer”. “Yeah sure whatever…anyway gotta run to catch a bus up the road…nice talking to you” was what I said as I picked up the pace to an almost run but what I was thinking was “in your dreams”. Gotta love how he so quickly threw in that “whichever you prefer” as if I already decided that I would drop everything, move to Barbados and marry a total, completely (and creepy) stranger! He followed me for a bit and as I was almost out of earshot, he yelled “I’ll see you on your way back. I’ll be here waiting” and with that I made a mental note to take another way back to my apartment.

I walked for what seemed like forever. I was exhausted and dehydrated having drank all my water before I even reached Holtown. Yeah, I’d be real good in a desert. Can’t even ration a bottle of water over 4.5 kilometers. By the time I did make it to Holtown, I was ready to pass out. Fortunately, I could see a mall a few blocks away. Malls always have water and air conditioning.

The cool air inside the mall combined with Christmas music and holiday decorations made me forget I was in the hot Caribbean for a few minutes. I pretended to be interested in the shops so it wouldn’t look like I was just loitering (which I was) and when I had cooled off enough, I wandered back outside to explore the little town of Holtown.

I walked as far as I could before the heat overcame me again. I noticed a driveway leading to the water through what looked like a public park. There were no fences and no “no trespassing” signs so I took a chance, hoping to find a store or a vendor selling some water. I was right, I did happen upon a park and there was a little canteen where I bought a bottle of water that I drank while relaxing on a bench under some trees in a shaded area. When I felt better again, I walked towards the water and found a little boardwalk lining a beautiful beach overlooking a bay filled with sailboats. I could have sat there all day on that beautiful boardwalk, listening to the seabirds milling about and the waves rolling ashore but I didn’t want to be stuck making my way back to Angler after dark. I walked back to the little mock Chattel House Village on the main road and browsed some of the little shops (which were WAY out of my budget) and found a little outdoor restaurant where I enjoyed a plate of cheesy fries and bought another bottle of water for the road.

I’d kept some change aside in case I needed a bus but I was confident that I would be able to walk back to Angler. I walked about half a kilometer before near passing out at a bus stop. The heat was too much. The only problem with this bus stop was there were no postings to let me know what times the bus came by. I took a chance and laid down on the bench to wait. About ten minutes later, a bus approached. I was told that the blue government-run buses were the best ones to take in Barbados but this was one of the yellow privately-owned ones that some people told me I was best to avoid. I was going to just let it pass but it stopped and the driver waved for me to get on. I guess he noticed the shape I was in and didn’t want to just leave me there to die in the heat! Finding heat-exhausted, half-passed-out tourists on benches is probably not very good for tourism. I walked up the what I thought was the driver’s window to ask if he stopped in Derrick’s near my apartment and realized that the person who had waved me onto the bus was not the driver at all. Of course, he just looked at me like I had ten heads and repeated my question to the actual driver on the other side (I, once again, forgot that cars drive on the left in Barbados) who confirmed that he did stop there.

The bus was very crowded. Every seat was taken. Some seats were taken twice as there were people seated on other people’s laps. Many other people were standing in the aisles. Reggae music was playing rather loudly and the bus driver seemed to be more into the music than he was with watching the road. I happened to look in his direction at one point and upon closer inspection, noticed a rum bottle within arm’s reach of the driver. Welcome to the Caribbean! It was pretty clear to me by that these private buses that run on a set of laws different from everyone else. I held on to an aisle post for dear life as we drove along at top speed towards Derricks.

The last night of any vacation is almost as sad as the next day when I get on the plane to leave for good. On this night, there were many lasts. The last time sitting on my step with a refreshing beer. The last time watching a colorful sunset turn to blackness over the palm trees behind my apartment. The last time falling asleep to the sound of thousands of cicadas. I got my packing out of the way as early as possible and spent the rest of the evening relaxing. I grabbed that last Banks beer from the fridge and relaxed on the step for a few hours…taking in those beautiful, relaxing, tropical sounds for the last time before I headed home to face a cold, harsh Canadian winter.

A Night on the Town in Barbados at Harbour Lights

I don’t usually drink nor do much partying when I’m on vacation but I do like to spend at least one night on the town. I usually travel alone so I am quite choosy about where I go and how I get there and back. While I was browsing those in-room brochures a few nights earlier, something caught my eye; Harbour Lights Beach Extravaganza. I didn’t feel comfortable wandering around alone at night looking for a nightclub to hang out and Harbour Lights included rides to and from the bar and dinner with their package. How many people can say they traveled to the Caribbean and had an entire beach to themselves? One of the upsides to traveling in the low season…there are not many tourists around!

Since this was my second-last full day in Barbados, I spent it at the beach, naturally. On this day, I opted to relax on my little “private” beach where I would be least likely to cross paths with my “salesman” friend and any other shady characters trying to sell me “jewelry”. I was right, I had the entire beach to myself and it was perfect!

One of the benefits to traveling in the low season - a beach all to myself!

Some hours later, I headed back to my apartment to get ready for the evening. I put on some makeup for the first time all week, carefully straightened my hair and changed into the one outfit I always take with me for that night spent on the town in the Caribbean - a fun, little, strappy sundress. In under an hour, I transformed myself from straggly beach bum to chic party girl.

A van picked me up at Angler around 6:30. It took about a half hour to get to Harbour Lights and the show didn’t start until about 7:30 so I had a little bit of time to wander around and mingle before the show started. The young man who was helping people to their seats seemed concerned that I was alone. “Well, we can’t have you sitting alone! Do you mind if I find a group of people for you to sit with for the evening?” he asked. “Sure, I’d love that!” He led me to the top level overlooking the stage and beach and asked a couple of girls from England if they minded if I sat with them. “Sure, of course!” I was surprised by how delighted they were to have a total stranger joining them. I was delighted as well. At home, the rare times that I do go to a bar or club alone to watch a band, I usually spend the night sitting at a table alone. No one approaches me and if I ask someone if I can join them at their table, they look at me like I have ten heads as if they still follow that rule their mother taught them as children “don’t talk to strangers”. A lot of people at home think this rule still applies after the age of 12 and well into adulthood. Mingling and meeting new people is a little taboo at home, so it seems.

Harbour Lights Beach Extravaganza

After introductions and Pina Coladas, we were called to the buffet table to get our meal and once again, like every other meal I had on my trip, it was delicious! Salads, macaroni pie, rice and some other things I’m not really sure what they were but they were equally delicious.

Not long after everyone had a meal in front of them, the show started and for about two hours, we were entertained by a steel band, fire eaters, limbo dancers and singers. It was quite entertaining but the only thing I didn’t like about it was the band and singers performed pop songs….songs by Rihanna and popular American singers. I would have liked to hear a more local sound. Yes, I know Rihanna is from Barbados but she hardly has a traditional Bajan sound to her music!

I accidentally left my phone on the table, turned my back for one second and when I turned back to grab it, the young man who had ushered me to my table earlier had it in his hands. He was typing something and when I tried to grab it from him, he held it in the air over my head. When I did get it back, his name and phone number was displayed in my contacts. Not exactly a subtle way of getting a girl’s attention but I’ve experienced much, much worse. Actually, this guy seemed quite polite, friendly and funny. He again approached me when I leaving at the end of the night. “So what are you doing tomorrow?” he asked. “Actually tomorrow is my last day so I’ll be packing and all that fun stuff” which was actually half true. He may very well have just wanted to hang out and show me around but I wasn’t taking any chances going alone with a complete and total stranger in a foreign country where I barely knew anyone.

The other thing I didn’t really like about the show was I had to leave earlier than I wanted to because the shuttle back to Derricks left at 11:00…but the party continued for a few more hours. I could have stayed longer but that would mean a very expensive cab back to my apartment or finding another way home which could be dangerous for a young woman, late at night in a strange place by herself. By 12:00, I was back at Angler. An early night for a night on the town but I suppose that was a good thing because my last day in Barbados was reserved for a long hike to Holtown and I planned to be up bright and early to try to make it there before the heat of mid-day.

Sailing in Payne's Bay, Barbados

A Trip to the Bottom of Bridgetown Harbour…in a Submarine!

I’ve always wanted to go snorkeling or scuba diving.  Everyone I know who’s been down south has tried it and they come back with stories of how peaceful and beautiful it is beneath the sea’s surface.  But, unfortunately for me being blind as a bat as I am, I wear glasses that carry a strong prescription and can’t see a bloody thing without them!  I wore contacts for years but after dealing with an infection caused by over-wearing them (and sometimes even sleeping with them and having to peel them off my eyes the next morning), my doctor told me I had to stop wearing them or risk losing my eyesight altogether.  That meant I would be wearing glasses for the rest of my life and glasses do not fit under the masks used for snorkeling and scuba diving.  I heard you can get masks with a prescription lens built into them but that would cost hundreds or even thousands of dollars and I was not prepared to shell out that kind of money.  While I was searching through my in-room brochures one evening, I came across an interesting alternative that would allow me to see what it’s like underwater; a trip to the great depths of Bridgetown Harbour in a real submarine.

The cost of this submarine trip was a little steep at $100.00 (CAN) but several people recommended it and said it was well worth it.  After the usual morning routine, I again found myself waiting for a bus to pick me up at the gate (transfers to and from Atlantis Submarines in Bridgetown were included so that was a plus).  After some stops at some of the resorts along the way to pick up other passengers, we arrived at the docks in Bridgetown.  The last tour hadn’t returned yet so we were asked to wait in the Atlantis Submarines main office building until the boat that would take us to the submarine returned to port.  As I browsed the gift shop, a conversation caught my attention.  “There was an earthquake?  Here?” I asked.  “Well, no not really.  It was closer to the nearby islands of Trinidad and St. Lucia but some people in Barbados claim they felt the ground shake a little bit”.  This was a little disappointing to me.  Not that I would want a destructive earthquake to occur anywhere but, just once, I would like to experience a little tremor just to see what it feels like.

As I was eying some neat-looking keychains to buy as souvenirs for people back home, a commotion started by the main doors.  A young man was being cornered by a group of women.  They were taking pictures and fawning over him like he was someone famous.  Well, apparently he was someone famous.  I heard of the show The Walking Dead but never watched an episode of it in my life.  It seems this man was a leading character on the show’s third season.  Some Vincent someone (I didn’t catch his last name) but die-hard fans of the show certainly knew who he was.  I watched this spectacle from afar.  I never really did get the fuss people make over famous people.  They are, after all, just people like you and me. 

A few minutes later, we were boarding a small ferry that would take us to the waiting submarine.  It took about twenty minutes to reach Atlantis and during that short ride, we listened to some safety instructions (I actually listened to these instructions as they were quite different from the safety instructions I heard over and over again on planes and ferries….we were boarding a submarine after all and there were some interesting, but unlikely, things that could go wrong) and watched the city get smaller and smaller as we sailed out to deeper waters.  When we reached our destination, the engines stopped and we waited.  There was no submarine in sight.  A few minutes later, it broke the surface.

With the help of a gangway and some very steep stairs, one by one, we boarded Atlantis, took our seats on front of some little round windows and sunk below the surface.  I was expecting my ears to pop or my head to feel like it was going to explode as we went deeper and deeper below the surface but no such thing happened.  It didn’t feel any different from sailing on a boat except we were underwater.  We dropped to just a few meters above the ocean floor to a depth of 150 feet and watched turtles, barracuda and thousands of colorful fish float by in that strange underwater world.  There were tons of strange marine plant life and a few shipwrecks too.  I was a little disappointed to learn that the shipwrecks were planned shipwrecks authorized by the government for recreational divers.  It would have been so much cooler if we were looking at sunken pirate ships but it was pretty cool anyway.  We went around a couple of reefs and went a little deeper for a while and before I knew it, the hour was up and we headed back to the surface…after the crew graced us with their rendition of My Heart Will Go On from the movie Titanic.  

 I enjoyed the tour.  Would I do it again?  Probably not.  In the future, if I think I will be spending a lot of time down south, I may just spring for one of those prescription masks.  Atlantis gave me the opportunity to see what it was like underwater but it didn’t give me the opportunity to feel what it is like and to be one with that strange world under the sea.     

    

A Day at the Beach – Sneak-attacked by a Wave, A Pushy “Salesman” and The Discovery that Even Paradise Has a Dark Side

Once again, I awoke to sun, clear skies and soaring temperatures with no sign of the rain and thunderstorms that were predicted for the week.  I was really enjoying my stay at Angler Apartments so far.  It was quiet, relaxing, my room was comfortable and the food was delicious.  Angler was exactly the type of accommodations I was looking for.  It was so different from staying in one of those boring all-inclusive resorts.  I awoke every morning to the sound of regular every-day people going about their regular every-day tasks.  I ate real food and not disgusting buffet meals prepared by simply adding water to them and that sit out in the sun all day gathering germs and the like.  My food was made right from scratch.  If I wanted to relax, all I had to do was step outside onto my step and there was nature all around me – monkeys, tropical birds, lizards and weird bugs that I am not exactly sure what they were (or if they were poisonous for that matter).  Every night I fell asleep to the sounds of trees rustling in the breeze and thousands of cicadas and birds and insects outside my window and not to the sound of drunken tourists screaming and getting on like wild animals who had escaped the zoo for the first time.  Yes, Angler was a special place that allowed me to get an authentic taste of Barbados and things do get interesting sometimes when one decides to travel off-the-beaten path and escape beyond the sheltered confines and security of gated resorts.

The Entrance to Angler Apartments

The more time I spent at Angler, the more familiar I became with the rhythm and routine of the neighborhood.  Chandra had mentioned the dreadful Ice Cream truck that passes by every day blaring its cheerful music (with sinister undertones like the tunes you would hear in one those horror movies that features clowns that kill people) that agitates the dogs.  She said she had asked the guy to tone down the noise as he passed her place but apparently after that, he just did it more.  I witnessed this myself on this morning.  It started as a faint and distant melody over the hill somewhere, perhaps a couple of streets over.  With each passing minute, it got louder and louder until it was only a couple of blocks away and that is when the dogs started to howl.  I’m not sure if the sound hurt their ears or if they were trying to howl along with it.  All I know is they awoke from their mid-morning naps, ran towards the gate and howled like their lives were being threatened.  And I swear the guy riding that little ice cream truck slowed down in front of the gates and stayed there longer than anywhere else just to agitate them and everyone else.  This happened every single morning.

With my beach towel and book in hand, I started for the beach where I planned to relax for the day.  I liked my little “private” beach but, on this day, I decided to immerse myself into the general population and get a better feel for the place and meet some of the people.  I walked in the direction of the little boardwalk and beach by the fish market. 

As I walked along the road, hanging onto tree branches to avoid being run over, I noticed some peculiar things and met some “interesting” characters.  I noticed that almost everyone who passed me gave a friendly wave and a smile as they drove by.  The only places where I’ve seen this practice before were Newfoundland, Cape Breton Island, Prince Edward Island and Cuba so I’ve come to the conclusion that this must be something that islanders everywhere do.  When this happens to me in big cities like Toronto or New York, I automatically think I have something on my face.  In Barbados, this friendly gesture was genuine and it made me kind of feel like I was home.  There were no catcalls on this day.  My guess is the ones who usually partake in such activities probably sleep until the late afternoon and play video games in their pajamas until the early evening.  Perhaps this is why they’re having a hard time getting dates and have to resort to yelling obscenities at women in the street.

As weird as it sounds, one of the strangest things I noticed while walking through town that day was the sound of Christmas music coming from passing cars and the sight of Christmas decorations hanging on homes and businesses.  It was a couple of weeks before Christmas but it was still strange to hear and see those things when it was so hot outside and I was surrounded by tropical beaches and palm trees.  It’s hard not to associate Christmas with snow and sub-zero temperatures.

There are many great, world-class restaurants in Barbados but some of these great restaurants are hard to find because they are located in homes.  As I was walking down the street that day, I watched a man exit his house, walk over to what looked like a shed of some sort and literally pull down the side of it to reveal a bar and kitchen and presto…a ready-made restaurant!  He proceeded to display a full menu and place some chairs and tables and within minutes, he was ready for business.

For a Tuesday morning, there were a lot of people around.  Young families were heading to the beach, students waited at bus stops, businessmen in suits passed on bicycles, seniors sat on stoops gossiping with their neighbors.  One man on a bike was driving on the other side of the road but as he got closer to me, he swerved to my side and slowed down.  I became frightened for a split second until he passed by me mumbling a string of gibberish that made me realize he was no threat.  Hardly anyone was talking on cell phones or texting as they went about their daily activities.  People were talking to one another and walking with their heads up to greet passerby.  This is one of the things I like about many of the places I travel to; people still communicate with one another…in person.

I reached the little beach near the fish market and noticed that it was quite little that day.  I had overlooked the fact that tides do tend to come in and out and evidently the tide was high at that moment and the water was a bit rough.  I walked over to a manchineel tree and set up camp in its shade.  There were a few people milling about but it was quiet and relaxing.  That is, until a huge wave caught me off-guard and soaked me, my towel and my book.  I must have looked quite the site as I made my way down the beach in muddy, drenched clothes and carrying a dripping towel and tattered book.  I walked further down the beach and found a nice spot far from the surf, stripped down to my swimsuit and hung my clothing on some rocks to dry.  Ever hear the saying “never turn your back on the sea?”  I’ve been sneak-attacked by many large waves in my day and I still haven’t learned.

The fish market near the beach

The tree I was resting under when the I was sneak-attacked by a wave

As I sat in the sand, trying to dry out my book, I noticed some comfortable-looking beach chairs a little ways down the beach.  Upon closer inspection, I noticed that most of them were empty.  It occurred to me that these were probably beach chairs reserved for paying guests of the fancy resort that was right behind them, not that that ever stopped me from claiming a beach chair before.  I walked toward the chairs, trying not to be too suspicious as I tried to sneak a peak at people’s wrists to see if they had colorful bracelets on (an indication that the resort kept a watchful eye on who uses the beach chairs by means of making guests wear silly-looking paper bracelets like the ones you would wear at a neighborhood carnival).  I didn’t see any so I just plopped myself down under an umbrella on the most comfortable-looking beach chair I could find.  No one noticed a thing.  In fact, I was so good at tricking everyone into thinking I was a paying guest, a drink server from the resort bar, walked right up to me and asked if I would like a complimentary cocktail…”No thanks.  I’m not thirsty”.  I do have some morals.  Taking a seat in an unoccupied beach chair belonging to a resort is one thing…accepting a free drink when I’m not a paying guest is another!  I must say though, that beach chair was so comfortable I stayed there for a couple of hours, reading my book and listening to all the beach sounds around me.  The waves crashing ashore just a few feet away, children splashing and playing in the surf, some teenagers playing a very competitive game of volleyball, a live Calypso band entertaining wedding guests down the beach.  And, oh yes, we can’t forget those pesky beach vendors. 

I caught a glimpse of a vendor heading in my direction and immediately played dead.  I hoped he would keep walking if my eyes were closed and I wasn’t moving.  But beach vendors, the energetic, entrepreneurial buggers that they are, make it a habit to approach everyone on a beach, sometimes a dozen times each in only a few hours.  I knew there was no escape when I heard the sound of feet shuffling in the sand.  “Hi miss, can I interest you in some beautiful handmade jewelry?” I gave my usual speal about not bringing money to the beach and apologized and laid my head back down and closed my eyes hoping he would just go away.  “Oh but miss, these necklaces are perfect for you.  It doesn’t cost money just to look.” “nah, I’m really not interested.” He was a persistent little bugger, I’ll give him that.  He turned around suspiciously as if checking to make sure no one was following him and said in an almost whisper  “Ok, but maybe you like to smoke di Ganja?” he asked while winking and giving me an evil smile.  “nah, I don’t smoke Ganja.”  He just wouldn’t leave me alone.  I thought maybe he was just looking for someone to share a joint with him but nope, his next move clearly indicated that he wasn't really a jewelry salesman but a salesman of another sort.  “But miss, this ganja is the best around and I’ll give you a very good deal” and with that, he opened a secret compartment in his briefcase, underneath the rows of jewelry, to show me enough weed to put both him and I in jail for a long time.  I felt a little uneasy seeing what I did in that briefcase.  Did this “salesman” now have me marked for knowing too much?  After all, I suspect not very many people really know what is at the bottom of some of those briefcases but now I knew and that left me at kind of a disadvantage.  I played it safe and just discreetly said “nah, not today my friend”.  And with that, he shook my hand and said “you know where to find me if you change your mind”.  Thanks but no thanks.  I had no plans in spending the rest of my days in a Bajan prison.

As I lay there soaking in that hot sun and listening to all those sounds, parts of nearby conversations started to fill my ears.  Once I starting hearing juicy tidbits of gossip, it was hard to stop listening.  Two women were discussing local politics and their dissatisfaction about the current government in Barbados and how much corruption they suspected was going on.  They rambled on about cover-ups, drugs, high unemployment and the like.  The types of things you don’t read about in guidebooks.  Sometimes, even paradise has a dark side. Things sure do get interesting when you avoid all-inclusive vacations.  You really get to learn a lot about a place.  Sometimes you learn about things you don’t want to know and see things you don’t want to see.

That evening at Angler, I was reading in the peace and quiet of my patio when the silence was shattered by my phone ringing.  I looked at the caller ID and didn’t recognize the number.  After hesitating about whether to answer it or not, I decided I better in case it was an emergency.  A young (and possibly drunk and/or high) man started to ramble about how I called his number and hung up and he was looking for his friend who got hit by a bus earlier that day and blah blah blah….”um no I didn’t call your number, you must be mistaken”.  “yes you called and said he was meeting me at the hockey game” and than it dawned on me.  He had me going for a minute and I thought it was someone calling locally, in Barbados, thinking I had dialed their number.  Than he said “hockey” and I knew it had to be someone calling from home.  “Where are calling from?” I asked.  “Westmount.” I was right.  I told him I was in the southern Caribbean.  He didn’t believe me so I let him ramble on with his prank call.  He thought he had me going but the joke was on him.  I had unlimited international calling installed on my phone before I left.  I’m sure he ended up with quite a large bill.  Lesson learned?  Don’t prank-call people when they are on vacation!

The Natural Side of Barbados - A Trip Underground, Running from Killer Coconuts and Tripped by a Turtle

Before I left home, I booked a Natural Wonders Sightseeing Tour through Expedia. It included a tour of some caves and visits to a tropical garden and a wildlife reserve. Not only do I like to see the scenery and experience the culture of the places I travel to, I also like to explore the natural wonders and see the wildlife.

I awoke very early, met Chandra at the restaurant for another delicious and filling breakfast, watched the dogs and monkeys have their morning turf war and waited by the gate for a bus from Glory Tours to pick me up.

Quammie was quiet at first, not saying very much like most tour operators do when you first board their bus. However, once all passengers were onboard and seated comfortably, Quammie was all talk! Like every guide I met on my trip, he knew everything about the island, including the things you don’t read in guidebooks.

We drove through many of the scenic areas I’d seen on the previous tour but I was glad to be seeing them again, especially Bathsheba. It wasn’t as crowded on this day because it was a Monday and I was able to get some better pictures without anyone getting in the way.

After a short but refreshing stop at Bathsheba, we drove for a little while until we arrived at Harrison Caves. These caves, which are naturally formed by water erosion in the limestone rock and are considered to be the top attraction in Barbados, were the number one thing I wanted to see on my trip (besides the Animal Flower Cave in St. Lucy that I, unfortunately, didn’t get to see) and I was looking forward to exploring the caves…except the “exploring” didn’t happen in the way I thought it would.

Bathsheba, Barbados

After a brief introduction, a video and a walk around some exhibits, we met our guide and were taken underground on a tram. “Wait a second, a tram?” was what I was thinking but didn’t say out loud. I thought we were going to enter the caves on foot and walk at our own pace with the guide leading. This is the way I have always done guided tours in caves. To me, a tram tour seemed impersonal and boring and too orchestrated but I boarded anyway. After all, the tour was already paid for.

The first thing I noticed that was wrong with this tram was 3 or 4 people were seated in each seat which meant the people sitting in the middle seats would have a hard time seeing and wouldn’t be getting very many good pictures. I ended up in a middle seat and I was not happy about that! The second thing I noticed about the tram was it traveled too fast for anyone to actually get a good look at anything and when it stopped for us to get pictures, it stopped once and only the people in front, who were stopped right in front of the picture-worthy sight, had the advantage.

Harrison Caves, Barbados

 

We did stop a few times to get out and walk around in some of the bigger caverns but the stops weren’t very long. The caves were spectacular with some very large caverns and underground lakes (one of those lakes looked so inviting…the crystal clear, calm waters would have made for a nice swim but that was not included in the tour). Overall, I did enjoy seeing the caves and don’t regret taking the tour. However, the next time I am in Barbados, I will be doing an independent tour. I didn’t know independent tours were available but we passed some people who were walking around in the caves exploring on their own and I confirmed that they were, in fact, allowed to do that and that option is available.

Harrison Caves, Barbados

After a too-long jaunt around the souvenir store (I always hate that part of any guided tour), we boarded the bus and headed onto our next stop, the Flower Forest. Located on the grounds of a former plantation, the Flower Forest is 53 acres of beautiful flower gardens and tropical trees. On this tour, we were allowed to wander about freely and I started with a leisurely stroll through a forest mostly consisting of enormous palm trees. The others in my group went in one direction and I walked in another, solo through the maze of paths and enjoyed the serene sounds of leaves blowing softly in the wind and birds chirping until suddenly, that peacefulness was shattered by a loud, crashing thud followed by shouting. I thought I was alone in that area but on the other side of the trees to the right of me, a couple from my tour was enjoying a leisurely stroll, just like I was, when a coconut came crashing to the ground about a foot away from the man’s head. Because falling coconuts are a fear of mine when traveling in the Caribbean, I became very frightened by this experience and those peaceful looking trees suddenly didn’t look so peaceful. I half walked, half-ran through that maze of trails trying to find my way back to the entrance before another one of those lethal coconuts came crashing down.

Flower Forest, Barbados

Back at the meeting place, Quammie mentioned the incident to the staff and they seemed to take it quite seriously. Maintenance men were sent out right away to make sure there were no more ready-to-fall coconuts along the trail (I’m not sure how one knows if a coconut is ready to fall or not) and the victim of the near-miss brought the crushed coconut back to home-base for all to see. It was quite shocking to see the size of it and the damage it sustained in the fall. I can only imagine the damage it would have done to someone’s head. Rum punch was served to soothe our rattled nerves while we sat around listening to that poor man talk about his near-death experience before we drove to a small restaurant where we had yet another delicious lunch and headed to the wildlife reserve.

Before we got off the bus to wander around the wildlife reserve, Quammie asked us to let him know if we didn’t see the famous green monkeys by a certain time. He said it was necessary that everyone see them before we leave. A half-hour into our exploring, it was evident that we wouldn’t need to have someone coax the monkeys out for us because they were already out in full force.

At one point when I was walking, I tripped on something and nearly fell flat on my face. I got up and realized I had tripped on a poor little turtle who had been trying to cross the trail. I don’t think I hurt him but I gave him quite a scare because his head was in his shell. Curious to see the little guy, head and all, I waited a few moments for him to relax and come out and, very slowly, his head poked through his shell. He looked up at me and I swear if he could talk he would have said “listen lady, watch where your going next time!” I gave a friendly little tap on his shell and let him continue his slow but sure attempt at crossing the trail. A little while later, I came upon another one of those turtles…parked right next to a hare! Not a word of a lie, I even have the picture to prove it!

The tortoise and the hare

For the next hour or so, I wandered around the trails, catching glimpses of various creatures. Deer, snakes and, of course, those little green monkeys. By the time I got to the end of the trail, the monkeys were already gathered and waiting for their afternoon meal. They were swinging from branch to branch and giving passerby high fives. I accidently got a little to close to one as I rounded a bend and he gave me a hiss that I presumed meant “back off”.

The mischievous little green monkeys at the wildlife reserve in Barbados

 

Our last stop was Earthworks Pottery. Visiting pottery shops is not usually my thing but this pottery shop was different. Not only were we provided with a tour of the shop and the area where the pottery is made, we were given the opportunity to watch some pottery being made. I watched as a man carefully molded a beautiful bowl into shape and watched as others carefully painted the designs onto finished items before they were placed on the shelf to be bought. I did some Christmas shopping while I was there. After all, how could I not buy something that was made right in front of me? I stocked up on keychains, coffee mugs and ashtrays and other little pottery trinkets that could be given as gifts.

A short time later, I was dropped off at Angler. It was almost dark by that time so I stuck around my room for the evening and thought out a rough plan for the next few days. All I knew for sure was the next day would be spent at the beach and my last day was reserved for a hike to Holtown. The two days in between were still up in the air.