Dateline: January 20
Today we leave Grenada for the island of Barbados. First, one must not depart Grenada without mentioning the brilliant young Olympian, Kirani James. Failing to do so could result in significant fines. (Nah, not really, but kind of.) In fact the airport in Grenada has the distinct appearance of a Kirani James National Shrine. Or, since Kirani James memorabilia of every possible variety is on sale in the airport gift shops, you could easily mistake the location for the Kirani James National Shopping Mall.
Fans of the Olympics will remember this young sprinter for taking the Gold in London in the 400 meter. They say that thousands lined the streets of Grenada for his homecoming and that upon his arrival the Prime Minister Tillman Thomas announced Mr. James would be bequeathed government bonds totaling up to EC500,000, (US$250,000), a commemorative stamp be crafted in his honor, a new stadium be named for him, and that he would be appointed a tourism ambassador. Kirani James’ gold medal is the first Olympic medal for Grenada of any color in any sport. And, he is some kind of F A S T. To say he is worshipped like a small-g god here is a vast understatement. Grenada LOVES Kirani. The way we used to love Lance. And, Michael Phelps. (Let’s just hope KJ doesn’t get caught with the excellent ganja rumored to be plentiful among the islands hereabouts.)
So, on to Barbados. Via LIAT airlines. This was our first LIAT flight so we made the mistake of checking our wheelies. (We did NOT do that again.) Here’s the thing about LIAT. The pilots have the best cumulative safety record of any international airline. That’s the good news. The bad news is…well, here’s my sad story:
The Grantley Adams International Airport on Barbados underwent a massive $100 mil renovation sometime in the last decade, so it is lovely, but not lovely enough to offset the pissedoffedness one experiences when one’s luggage does not arrive with one. (Or, two, as was our case.) You know the drill. You land and you go to baggage claim and stand around awaiting the arrival of your bag, while, one by one, every other passenger pulls their luggage from the carousel and goes their merry way until it is only you, (and your traveling companion), dejectedly watching the empty carousel go round and round. It always takes a while for you to admit the truth. Is it just my imagination that the lucky people who get their bags glance smugly over at you in the exact same way that the popular kids used to look at you when they got asked to dance at the seventh grade social center sock hops while you were left “unchosen” to your own devices in the designated wallflower section of the gym? I don’t know why, but it is personally humiliating when an airline loses my baggage. (Perhaps I should take this up with my therapist the next time I go into therapy.) Whatever. It takes forever and then some to find the appropriate airline personnel to whom you must report lost luggage, and even when you do they always act as if this has never, in the history of aviation, happened before. Another hour to fill out the necessary paperwork. It is only in the taxi as you motor on to your hotel (sans personal effects) do you realize that you are in Barbados for godsakes without even one clean pair of underpants, never mind your frigging bathing suit. (Or, your Lady Schick, or your tweezers, which hirsute, AARP aged women will know is an item, along with your 10X magnifying purse mirror, you do not want to be without for even 24 hours. Seriously, who knew that menopause would bring on the facial hair with such vengeance? Two days of negligent depilation and I can give Pancho Villa a run for his money. But, this is all TMI, I am sure.) Onward.
Barbados, as Caribbean destinations go, is known as a charming sovereign island nation. European discovery is credited to the Spanish in the mid 1600s and alternatively to the Portuguese in some accounts, but it was settled (the last go around) by British colonialists and therefore, “Ba-jans” drive on the left side of the road and they all speak with a quaint British-tinged accent. The population enjoys a nearly 100% literacy rate and as a nation they spend almost 7% of the GDP on education. (Higher than the U.S. slightly in both stats.)
December through May marks the “dry season” when rainfall is lowest and accommodation prices are highest. June through November then is the “wet season” with a wide rainfall average that spans between 40 and 90 inches annually. The reported average temps don’t vary all that much, ranging between 70 degrees F and 88, although I last visited Barbados during the month of August when the daytime temps were over a sweltering hundred degrees. On our current trip, in January, the heart of the dry season, it was “cloudy with a chance of” the entire time and it poured down rain on us en-route to town so take those weather designations with a grain of (sea) salt.
Once upon a time, prior to the 1970s, (when I last visited), Barbados’ national economy was dependent on sugar cane. The development of tourism, (some say “over-development”) has long since eclipsed any agricultural product and has also mightily changed the look and feel of the place. It is really, REALLY developed now. In 1975 you could walk along the main roads and count the passing cars. These days the road into Bridgetown is a heavily trafficked thoroughfare and you couldn’t pay me to walk that road. (Better to hop into a “route taxi” called a “ZR or Zed R” by the locals, but be forewarned: The ZR drivers in Barbados do not know the meaning of the word “no”. If someone is at a bus stop, the driver WILL stop to pick them up no matter how full the vehicle. You might be expected to travel some distance with a brand new BFF sitting VERY close, even in your lap. I encourage you to view this as an opportunity for one of those rare olfactory cultural exchanges as the ZRs are dirt cheap and a private taxi will cost ten times the price at the least.)
Even though the island is outside the major hurricane threat zone, you should be made aware that Barbados is one of the most densely populated islands in the world, and as such they are forever battling the attendant problems of surrounding seawater contamination and the kind of interior island pollution that affects the quality of the drinking water aquifers. Geologically speaking, this island is the by-product of the kind of tectonic influences that created the abundant surrounding coral reefs. The reefs are home to at least four sea turtle species, but the human sewage factor is always threatening devastation. Over-fishing is also a problem. So, in short, mankind, with his insatiable seafood appetites and glutinous consumption, not to mention his incessant pooping, is currently the most problematic of all known environmental threats to idyllic life on Barbados.
We stayed at one of the typical conference oriented hotel resorts. Not terrible, but not memorable either. (Or, maybe I would have viewed it better if our luggage had been delivered to the hotel as promised which didn’t happen until just before we had to leave for the airport to island hop over to St. Lucia two days later.) In the meantime, we shopped Broad Street and Swan Street for cheap interim bathing suits so we could at least put in a modicum of (overcast) beach time. (Also, a surprisingly professional tweezers and a razor so I could remove the most conspicuous of my superfluous body hairs, thank you, Jesus!) The shopping district is a busy, hectic place with lots of upscale shops and street vendors alike. (Plus, one excellent beauty supply store.) We walked around and took in the swell boats in the harbor, had a lovely exchange with the sales girls in the department store and ate some empty calories in the form of nothing I can even recall.
Sadly, in conclusion, regarding the “tropical paradise” of Barbados, our missing luggage, plus the crap weather, in addition to a nagging sense of disappointment that the island has been all but ruined by development — somehow all of this combined to kind of shut the door on the place. I don’t think I’ll ever return. Maybe it’s just me, but when the “birthplace of Rihanna”, the “oldest Jewish Synagogue in the Americas” and the “world class Kensington Oval cricket stadium” are at the top of the list of cultural highlights of a place…just, meh. But, then you might be a Jewish, cricket playing Rihanna fan, so don’t go by me. If you’re in the hood, it’s super easy to hop over to Barbados from any number of Caribbean islands. You should go see for yourself.
Oh, and one last fun faq: according to our hotel’s tourist guide, the actual etymological origins of the word “Barbados” translates as “the bearded ones” which supposedly refers to the Spanish (or Portuguese) visitors in the sixteenth century. (Oh, the irony!) My advice? Just between us (girls), if you do fly LIAT, don’t check your wheelie, or at least remember to pack your personal hygiene gear in your carry on. Maybe your bathing costume and a spare underpants too. I wish somebody had told me. Meanwhile…our next desto: St. Lucia.