The Barbados TriangleIf we were feeling virtuous after participating in the Barbados beach cleanup last Saturday, then we have reason to feel doubly so this weekend. Most of our chores are done; Kaelene has hung the curtains we lugged over from England (and we have some spare to lug back), the vacuum cleaner and washing machine have been brought, the latter installed and working well, and it appears we have, or at least Fleur has, purchased a car. Vehicle buying proved to be character building; like everything else, second hand cars are expensive, there are few for sale and most of the cheaper ones are so for good reason. But we did what others have done, phoned around the island’s rental car companies to check whether they are flogging off any of their used stock.
It might seem quite dull writing about buying washing machines and cars, but whole days, or even weeks, can be lost carrying out these tasks; in fact this could be the identification of what will become known as the Barbados Triangle, a bit like the Bermuda equivalent, but where time disappears without trace rather than people. There is also the Bajan equivalent of Murphy’s Law, like waiting at home on a hot sunny day for delivery of the washing machine (and earlier the bookshelf) when we could have been at the beach, only for it to turn up five hours late. Then, when we have nothing scheduled, the weather becomes morosely overcast and wet.
Although this island is only 20 something miles long, getting around looking at used cars has been testing. Drive-O-Matic, just south of Speightstown, had four Daihatsu for sale, one bus journey away if you can catch the right bus. That’s the bus that starts its journey twenty-five minutes late and then weaves around every back road of Bridgetown before heading up the coast and dropping Marty off at Drive-O-Matic a mere three hours after his leaving the house. It transpired that only one of the four cars was actually at the yard, the other three were at car dealers elsewhere, nearer town but inland, or so the man said. That meant a Reggae-throbbing route taxi-ride back to Bridgetown and another to a place called Warrens, then a walk of about 2 kilometers in 35 degree temperatures, only to learn that the other three cars had already been sold.
This story does have a happy ending though. Top Cars, from which we hired our little Chev sewing machine, came through and Trevor the mechanic gave a little silver Daihatsu Charade a clean bill of health. Or at least we think he did through his wonderful Bajan dialect and gesticulations, and so the sale and purchase process is underway. Soon we can be proper tourists, although we have been told that the country’s best land-based attraction, the Harrison Caves, is closed for renovation.
The timing was right, it was World Tourism Day on Sunday 27 September and the banner draped on the fence outside the fish market proclaimed that Barbados was celebrating. According to the official website, “this nation will join the rest of the world and commemorate the 30th anniversary of WTD”. The main event, the issuing of a commemorative message to the print media by the Minister of Tourism, Richard Sealy, and the usual Sunday scenic bus trip. There was also, to mark the occasion, a treasure hunt at St John’s Parish Church. The commemoration threshold on Barbados, it would appear, is not particularly high.
Our celebration was a trip to the movies at the Sheraton Mall (not related to the hotel chain) and the film The Boat that Rocked, a rollicking comedy set around a pirate radio ship in 1960’s Britain (and starring New Zealander Rhys Darby, Murray off Flight of the Concords). An excellent choice made the more entertaining by the usher coming in and apologizing for the late-running of the movie because the reel had come off the projector during the previous screening. Nothing digital here, we sat and watched an endless repetition of ads while it was fixed, and then felt a pang of sympathy as we heard the clatter as the celluloid separating from the projector just as the trailers for our show started. We’ve not heard that childhood sound in years.
But back to life on the roads; there is something quite cute here and that is that bus shelters are available for sponsorship as part of an Adopt-a-Stop campaign, and each adopted stop has a woman’s name. The closest we have come to Kaelene is Karlene but we’ve not yet found a Fleur. For around $5,000 per year, plus VAT, a shelter can be built in a “vernacular design” using local materials that harmonise with Caribbean streetscapes while strategically placing sponsor’s messages on roads “now blocked with up to 50,000 cars per day”. Now there’s making the best of traffic congestion.
It might seem quite dull writing about buying washing machines and cars, but whole days, or even weeks, can be lost carrying out these tasks; in fact this could be the identification of what will become known as the Barbados Triangle, a bit like the Bermuda equivalent, but where time disappears without trace rather than people. There is also the Bajan equivalent of Murphy’s Law, like waiting at home on a hot sunny day for delivery of the washing machine (and earlier the bookshelf) when we could have been at the beach, only for it to turn up five hours late. Then, when we have nothing scheduled, the weather becomes morosely overcast and wet.
Although this island is only 20 something miles long, getting around looking at used cars has been testing. Drive-O-Matic, just south of Speightstown, had four Daihatsu for sale, one bus journey away if you can catch the right bus. That’s the bus that starts its journey twenty-five minutes late and then weaves around every back road of Bridgetown before heading up the coast and dropping Marty off at Drive-O-Matic a mere three hours after his leaving the house. It transpired that only one of the four cars was actually at the yard, the other three were at car dealers elsewhere, nearer town but inland, or so the man said. That meant a Reggae-throbbing route taxi-ride back to Bridgetown and another to a place called Warrens, then a walk of about 2 kilometers in 35 degree temperatures, only to learn that the other three cars had already been sold.
This story does have a happy ending though. Top Cars, from which we hired our little Chev sewing machine, came through and Trevor the mechanic gave a little silver Daihatsu Charade a clean bill of health. Or at least we think he did through his wonderful Bajan dialect and gesticulations, and so the sale and purchase process is underway. Soon we can be proper tourists, although we have been told that the country’s best land-based attraction, the Harrison Caves, is closed for renovation.
The timing was right, it was World Tourism Day on Sunday 27 September and the banner draped on the fence outside the fish market proclaimed that Barbados was celebrating. According to the official website, “this nation will join the rest of the world and commemorate the 30th anniversary of WTD”. The main event, the issuing of a commemorative message to the print media by the Minister of Tourism, Richard Sealy, and the usual Sunday scenic bus trip. There was also, to mark the occasion, a treasure hunt at St John’s Parish Church. The commemoration threshold on Barbados, it would appear, is not particularly high.
Our celebration was a trip to the movies at the Sheraton Mall (not related to the hotel chain) and the film The Boat that Rocked, a rollicking comedy set around a pirate radio ship in 1960’s Britain (and starring New Zealander Rhys Darby, Murray off Flight of the Concords). An excellent choice made the more entertaining by the usher coming in and apologizing for the late-running of the movie because the reel had come off the projector during the previous screening. Nothing digital here, we sat and watched an endless repetition of ads while it was fixed, and then felt a pang of sympathy as we heard the clatter as the celluloid separating from the projector just as the trailers for our show started. We’ve not heard that childhood sound in years.
But back to life on the roads; there is something quite cute here and that is that bus shelters are available for sponsorship as part of an Adopt-a-Stop campaign, and each adopted stop has a woman’s name. The closest we have come to Kaelene is Karlene but we’ve not yet found a Fleur. For around $5,000 per year, plus VAT, a shelter can be built in a “vernacular design” using local materials that harmonise with Caribbean streetscapes while strategically placing sponsor’s messages on roads “now blocked with up to 50,000 cars per day”. Now there’s making the best of traffic congestion.
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