Buses

Barbados got off to a bad start for me. Landing late at night meant trying to find a place to sleep late at night near the airport, a struggle at the best of times, even more so when looking for a quiet place to hang a hammock. Security were keen to move people not waiting for flights onwards. The bleary-eyed next morning, I was trying to find a place to store my large backpack(12kg), a pain to carry around with me all the time. In Saint Vincent and The Grenadines, a local police station minded it for me on Canouan, so I said I’d try that again. Cheeky, but if you don’t ask you’ll never get anything. The police officer was polite, and politely said he’d ask the superintendent. In my experience, when an unusual question goes up the ranks, the answer will always be no. Upper ranks don’t have to be polite, don’t want to face any issues, and it’s just easier for them all around. But, this is the Caribbean. Although the superintendent said no, he suggested I try the Golden Sands Hotel for luggage storage.

I dropped the bags off at the Golden Sands Hotel, they put my bags in storage, then asked when I’d be back to pick it up. Two days? The receptionist called the manager. Up the ranks, no luck, apparently there’s a lot of regulation about keeping a bag overnight, but it’s no problem during the day, even if you’re not a guest. I was in a slight pickle. It’s a pain in the hole to walk around with the bag, and I intended walking the island, and hammocking overnight. In a cafe next door, I sent out speculative messages to couchsurfing hosts in Barbados, and booked accommodation the night before my flight out of Barbados - I wasn’t gonna spend another night roughing in at the airport in Bridgetown. I got a positive response from a host up in Holetown, two hours away by bus. Then, no response for a few hours. In the meantime, I messaged the accommodation I’d booked. They had no issues with it at all. So, back on the bus, to the airport.

The airport bus doesn’t show up, despite it being every hour, and doesn’t show up for the hour after either. Probably best not to rely on the public transport in Barbados if you need to get somewhere. I get on a normal bus to Oistins, to get another bus from there. It’s rush hour, schools just finished, these buses are wedged. And yet the drivers are insanely aggressive. The buses are rough enough, with bare metal shining through, showing their age. I can’t imagine the mileage they have. This bus breaks down in Bridgetown two hours into the one hour journey. By 5pm, on the go since sunrise. I make it to Oistins, to get the final bus to drop my bag off, then I need to find a place to string up for the night.

I land in and meet the people who saved Barbados for me, Jean and Trevor, an English and Bajan couple who own the guesthouse. They are absolutely lovely people, who have the trick of immediately making you feel at home, and even though I’m not staying there for another two nights, they take my bag no problem. We’re cracking jokes straight away, getting on like a house on fire, and Trevor even brings me to the beach. They suggest Foul Bay Beach to spend the night, a long stretch with a ton of trees, caves, and cliffs on either side and a resident black lad who sleeps down one end. If I don’t bother him he won’t bother me. It’s windy and chilly in the hammock, but no sandflies and a lovely view.

The sun rose between the palm trees. Foul Bay is a misleading name. Nice, time to get up and going. My original plan had been to stay at Bottom Bay, 7.5km walk away. On the walk over, a dog is on the road playing chicken with cars. The cars swerved out of the way. Then, playing chicken with a bus, and the bus won.Leaving a gruesome scene on the road, there were no skid marks. The bus driver hadn’t even tapped the brakes. I promised myself to be more aware and stand in for buses.

Bottom Bay was lined with sea cliffs, but paled in comparison to Foul Bay. I nap in the hammock at Bottom Bay, reading, and chatting to a lad who sold coconuts. A character, and apparently, in Barbados, buses aim for dogs as they see them as a nuisance, even, and maybe especially the collared ones. You don’t fuck with the bus drivers here.

He told me of his near death experiences surfing in the bays around here. He had the look of a surfer past his prime, and he sold great coconuts. When I got in the water I understood his brushes with death. The waves and current on the Atlantic side of the island are powerful, you can feel the pull even knee deep. Great for surfing though. He also told me there’s no point going too far up that side, the beaches are currently covered in Sargasso seaweed, it wouldn’t be comfortable to set up there.

Taking his advice to heart, I walked back towards Foul Bay in the heat. Sweating buckets, the shade at various bus stops beckoned. Chatting away to people there waiting for buses, they all agreed. Yeah bus drivers are brutal. Even on a bus you’re not safe.In the countryside of Barbados, everyone is outgoing. And, say what you want about the bus drivers, but they have charging points at the bus stops. Ideal for hammocking around.

Back in Trevor and Jean's house the next day, we had great chats. Trevor is a character- he’s told me about how his family once owned all the land around them,and that they founded Mount Gay rum, but had to sell it to cover debts back in the day, and how he believes President Trump is an idiot. We got talking about this virus that was on the news in China. A few days ago, at my Airbnb in Kingstown in Saint Vincent and The Grenadines, the mother of the house freaked out when she saw me. Her daughter hadn’t told her they were having guests. She was close to making me stand outside and hose me down, Jean and Trevor had a good laugh at her overreaction. Someone watches too much news! Their guesthouse was a really amazing place to stay, with a truly homely feel, and I’d wished I’d stayed longer. We even had lunch together, not something you expect out of every guesthouse.

Walking to the airport the next morning, I was sad to leave them behind. Jean actually messaged me a few weeks later when that Covid craic really kicked off, seeing if I was ok. A sweetheart.