Barbados - November 2009
Day 1
We are now almost 24 hours into our romantic getaway to the Caribbean (without kids) and just starting to chill properly. As is customary I am going to try to record the highlights on this email blog though technology has again presented some challenges which might have caused a less determined blogger to give up. Yet I fear this one will fail to live up to previous standards - there are not likely to be any quad biking accidents, run ins with the local law nor fainting episodes, not to mention any scary barbers like we had in Egypt. see day 4-5 www.maple3.co.uk/Egypt/Egyptblog.htm
But the saving grace is that I have the main source of my material here with me - Mrs K.
We dropped the kids off at church on our way to the airport on Sunday morning. Lucky for us we have very kind parents who have agreed to watch over Anthony and Sian for the week and do some ferrying around too. Did we feel a tinge of guilt in leaving them behind? I must say I did but fortunately it was gone by the time we got on the M3.
This is my 6th trip abroad this year so I have done very well. Mrs K though is well ahead of me - this is trip 9 for her. She of course is completely unashamed about this tally. Well someone has to keep our travel industry going!
It is early days and I am still trying to work Barbados out. I had imagined it would be an upmarket Costa del Sol and so far that seems about right. Some of the fellow passengers on the BA flight on Sunday looked like they were going straight to the disco when we landed. And there were quite a few tattoos.
Our hotel is in a quieter part of the island (hopefully some distance from those discos) in a place called Holetown. It is probably one of the most expensive hotels we have ever stayed in as far as eating and drinking is concerned so we will probably be sampling the local restaurants I'm sure. Will report back on that later. The service has been cheerful most of the time but one has to adjust to the Caribbean pace of things – a bit less urgent than we are used to.
The first day is simply a day to sit on the beach (which is about 20 paces from our room) and enjoy the sun and the still sea. This is between showers however. After a particularly heavy downpour, Mrs K has to go for fresh towels. While I am waiting and looking for a more prominently sited pair of sunbeds to become available, I am approached by a Rasta man. He calls me Blackberry man for some reason. Our conversation is quite limited as I can hardly understand a word he is saying but I think he asks me if I am ‘looking for some action’. Not being totally worldly wise I think I can guess what he is offering but I wonder whether this is a good time to go and see how Mrs K is doing with the search for new towels, just in case he is offering something else. I say I am fine and Rasta man wanders down the beach.
Mrs K returns and we manage to acquire two new beds which have no towels and look like they have been abandoned by their owners. This must be what squatting feels like - possession is nine tenths of the law but I don't know how to say that in German. We are now in position for the afternoon or at least until the next shower. Then Rasta man turns up again and is showing Mrs K some attention, rubbing Aloevera on her leg. Rasta starts on me but after the Egyptian barber incident I am a bit more assertive and tell him to b*gger off. He retreats in search of more friendly targets. Mrs K is a bit sheepish and says she was too embarrassed to tell him she wasn't interested. Does that sound like Caroline? I’ll leave you to make up your own mind.
We stay on the beach despite some further light rain and watch the sunset.
Day 2
It is day 2 in Camp Colony Club and this morning's beach-tucker trial was to secure a prime spot on the beach before breakfast. Yesterday we had been in the gym at 7.30 but today Mrs K's halo is not quite as bright and she announced that we would have a day off. Being in the gym at such an early hour would be an unheard of feat for me but we are still a little bit on UK time - 4 hours ahead. So we set off for the beach but soon discovered that we were woefully not up to speed. Almost every single bed and umbrella was reserved with a towel and a paperback. After some searching however we managed to get two beds and an umbrella. Mr and Mrs K are opposite in so many ways. She likes the sun and I like the shade. Even more so after I turned a light shade of beetroot from yesterday. So our beds are slightly apart and after a while I am joined by two couples. On my right is a couple who do not allow a ten second gap pass without talking about something. It is mostly nothing - he seems to be content to pass the day providing a running commentary about all the activity on the beach. This means his wife can keep up with what is going on while her eyes are closed. On my other side I have a different sort of couple, fortunately not quite as close. They are both wearing flowery shorts and have sharp haircuts. One is about 60 and the other about 35. I try to bury myself in my book but after a while I give up. The guy on the waterskis has fallen off for a third time and the water taxi is on its way back. So Mrs K and I move to another spot. Our marriage is a perfect democracy. Mrs K votes for a spot in the sun and wins with a 100% share of the vote.
Mrs K had two complaints about the day 1 blog. First she didn't get a chance to vet the content before it was sent out and secondly I underplayed the usual problems I always seem to have with technology. Is it just me or is it a worldwide phenomenon that hotels find it impossible to provide decent wireless internet? This hotel is no different. In reception they explain that the reception is only good in the lounge. The girls behind the counter normally respond to questions with a smile but the mention of internet and wireless in the same sentence seems to automatically lead to a frown and a defensive posture. This is not a good sign. When I explain it is non existent there I am then told that I should try the sun deck. At the sun deck I struggle for ten minutes without success. Perhaps if I stand on my head and point my laptop in an easterly direction it will be better? I give up for the day. I also have an issue with the work laptop which as I crossed into Barbados territory seems to have adopted a high security setting which means I can't use it remotely in the usual way. A telephone call and several emails to the office do not resolve the situation and so I have to accept that I will be limited to using the blackberry for the week. So there is the technology confession. You probably now understand why I didn't include it before - its quite dull.
The average age in the hotel is probably well north of 50 so we are doing our bit to bring down the average but not by much let's be honest. This morning I almost dropped my bacon and egg when two small kids ran across the dining room. Now that is a more meaningful contribution. On the beach there is a lot of skin on show but its not all what you want to look at. There is one chap who looks like he could keel over at any time and I saw him wobble next to the surf - he could have been lost right there.
Mrs K has cast her eye over the text below and asks "are you not having a good time?". "Of course, dear" I reply but the fact is that I get restless very quickly especially without my conduit to the outside world. We had planned to eat in tonight and sample the hotel bbq but as I watch them set up the tables on the beach I have a yearning to get out of the hotel and we book a restaurant along the coast with rave reviews.
Later by some miracle I work out I can get a wireless signal if I sit in a certain position on our balcony. Then when looking at reviews of the restaurant that we picked for the evening I realise that we have made a big mistake with almost every review saying what a terrible meal they had there. Fortunately we have time to change to the Italian in town which turns out to be a really nice local experience in a typical small Bayan building which opens out onto the street. Our taxi driver is called Ken Wood which I found amusing but Mrs K did not. We retire again early still adjusting to the time difference and me suffering a bit from overeating and overexposure.
Part 3
Before I start part 3 I must extend a special welcome to my parents who have finally moved into the 21st century and hooked up to the internet. Their email address is keens@daphsden.plus.com so please do send them a message!
I have reverted to 'part 3' mostly because. as is supposed to be the case on holiday, I have lost track of days.
The halo is very much back in place. Yesterday morning I was dragged to the gym before 8am and this morning we are at breakfast by 7.45am so we can attend a pilates class at 8.30. It will be my first time. I will let you know how I got on next time.
Yesterday we ventured out of the hotel in search of new vistas and found ourselves at Mullins beach which is probably how you would imagine a barbados beach to be on a postcard. However what you don't get on the postcard is the guy across the road using his noisy hedge trimmer for the whole morning, the steady stream of beach sellers who try to sell their tat and the jet ski posers who insist on parking their 'bikes' on the sand in front of us by accelerating out of the sea with the breaking waves onto the beach. I have been accused of whingeing by Mrs K so, don't get me wrong, it is fabulous but it could have been slightly better without the commotion around us and with the temperature a little below the 36 degrees - the hottest day so far. At lunchtime we retire to the Mullins beach restaurant which is very smart. I am barefoot and immediately feel under-dressed even though we are technically still on the beach. We have no reservation but they squeeze us in. What a place Barbados is. This is probably the busiest and most expensive beach cafe I have ever been in but across the road there are tiny and slightly scruffy houses where 'normal' people live. After lunch we rest up from our exertions over lunch but leave in mid afternoon as the clouds roll over threatening to rain. We catch a yet another cab into Holetown. I am impressed that Mrs K manages to engage in conversation almost the whole way without understanding a word of what our driver says. She rabbits on about our kids and the poor guy hardly gets a chance to get a word in. The only bit I got was that he has an 11 year old son and he doesn't approve of Xbox. On the way to the beach our female taxi driver had launched straight into a conversation about her father trying to get through to the tax authorities. Her email is yougottalovethisgirl@hotmail.com. If you want to have a conversation about troublesome parents she's your girl. On the beach the catamaran parked on the sand is called "Bugger off". Only in Barbados.
In Holetown we visit some quaint tourist shops and Mrs K admires a dress priced at $900 so I steer her towards the beach where we find a bar which is showing three Champions League matches simultaneously - just lucky I guess. As I am such a considerate husband we don't stay there long and head off for the hotel, confident the blues will do the business.
At this point I need to explain what a bore Mrs K is when it comes to doing anything with any sense of danger or even adventure. So far she has declined my pleas to join me for banana boat rides, catamaran rides, snorkelling or water skiing. So on our way back from the bar I suggest that we should walk back to the hotel by walking along the beach which is probably about a mile, maybe a bit less. I might have asked her to paraglide all the way back. Admittedly there were some points where we had to negotiate waves breaking over rocks but there was a couple ahead of us who were going the same way so we kept going. There are no private beaches here so I was confident we would make it and so we did, without getting too wet. Adventure of the holiday for Mrs K. Maybe we can build up to snorkelling from there.
On Thursday we decide to take advantage of the complimentary shuttle bus service into Bridgetown, the capital. Mrs K is faffing around at reception so by the time we board the bus we can't find two seats together so have to sit separately. I find myself next to running commentary man again and two old dears are hard at it behind me without pausing to breathe it seems. My music player has packed up but luckily I have my blackberry as a backup and the ears go in.
In town Mrs K is very quickly annoyed with my lack of interest in shopping but is persistent. I eventually relent and start trying on Levis. After the 10th pair (I'm not a standard shape like I once was) I am starting to lose the will to live but we find a pair that fits. Mrs K also finds a pair in the junior womens section which fit snuggly - how times have changed! This guy that worked out he can put a crocodile symbol on a polo shirt and sell it for $150 is a genius - but I still don't get it.
Faced with a journey back on the OAP bus we make alternative plans and head for a place recommended by Aimee in my office. We enjoy a very relaxing lunch on the deck with waves crashing on the rocks below. Finally I have reached that perfectly chilled moment.
Part 4
Yesterday was a blog free day as I was celebrating my birthday. Thanks for the kind messages by the way. We have got to that part of the holiday when the days flash past with unjust speed and it is already Saturday morning.
On Thursday morning I enjoyed my first pilates session. There were just 4 of us in the class taken by Leanne the ridiculously fit instructor. The other person was Abbey Titmuss, as I have christened her, as she looks just like her. Mrs K doesn't think so. I was told that I did very well which was about as patronising a comment I could expect but probably quite justified as I was often collapsing back to a prone possition on the mat. Leanne was somehow able to hold herself in gravity defying positions for extended periods. I think Mrs K did very well too but I couldn't see much from my position face down on the mat. The last day or so however I have had no ill effects whereas Mrs K is sensitive around the ribs which means it hurts to laugh - that will teach her for laughing at me in the class, and in front of Abbey too.
So as I said yesterday was a day off from blogging and a day of rest, well even more rest. It was just me, Mrs K, Dan Brown and Russell our taxi driver for the evening. Like most Dan Brown books it is consumed in a day and although it is a real page turner you are not sure if you really enjoyed it at the end - a bit like a McDonalds. Russell was a really nice guy and like a lot of taxi drivers, doesn't take a fare on the way to the restaurant, trusting you to ring him for the journey back. 'No problem'.
On Thursday night we went to a restaurant called Tides in the nearby town. It was our best meal so far. A table for two just in front of the breaking waves, watching a couple of local fishermen casting their lines into the surf and listening to the distant music from the dinner-cruise boat moored some way out. And of course the food and wine were just fantastic. After my afternoon appointment with rum punch and an after dinner irish coffee I was more than happy if not a little over-refreshed. I sleep well.
So this morning it is adventure day for Mrs K and we are picked up from the hotel by a minibus which will take us to our catamaran cruise for the day. Tony Blair once took this trip and I wonder if he paid the full price. When we get on the large vessel with about 20 other people Mrs K is freaked out by the swaying of the boat and has to keep her eyes closed. I point out that we haven't left the quayside yet.
But once we are out at sea and the captain kills the engine and puts up the sail we are in heaven and even Mrs k is enjoying it. Our first stop is Payne's beach where we swim with turtles, rays and large puff fish. Then we sail further up the coast and moor at the Sandy Lane Beach Club where Tiger Woods got married. There we have lunch and swim some more observing the wreck and the coral reef. At first Mrs K struggles with the mask and goggles but then she cracks it and for a fleeting moment I am thinking Jacqueline Bisset in 'The Deep'. But it is fleeting. After lunch I swim to shore to get a closer look at the Sandy Lane which has an army of security guards to stop mere mortals like us from wandering in. It seems they also recruit sea life too as I am bitten by something on the way, probably a sea lice I am told. Back on the boat I ask for some medication in the hope that the young girl in the skimpy bikini will rub in the cream for me but Mrs K is on hand to help.
The trip is a lot of fun and the crew really whoop it up with some compulsory dancing on deck on the way back to Bridgetown. They call it the 'rocking to the docking'. This helps Mrs K to take her mind off the swell which has got bigger but she is also distracted by the chap with a 3rd nipple but it looked like a mole to me. As we get off Mrs K tells me the captain told her she was beautiful. I have to tell her that he told me I was young.
Tonight we go to The Cliff which is probably the best restaurant on the island and nothing to do with Sir Cliff who has a house just up the road. More later.
Final part
So here we are. Whiling away our last hour or so on the beach before leaving for the airport. Chelsea are battling against Arsenal in what could a crucial game at the top of the premiership and I have a fear of 'not being there' (except of course via BBC live text). My handle is 'Chelsea man' today as I am loyally wearing my Chelsea shirt in sweltering heat. I commiserate with the Alovera man as he is a Liverpool fan and appears to be suffering.
My early description of Barbados as an upmarket Costa del Sol now seems a bit harsh. The dining has been absolutely amazing but unfortunately so have the prices. Last night's visit to The Cliff was a very special experience, with tables arranged like boxes in a west end theatre. Instead of overlooking a stage we were looking at a pretty cove and lovely blue/green sea illminated by lights and naked flames from the restaurant. The music gave a rather african mood to the place and the guests were almost outnumbered by staff who glided around with almost silent efficiency and were all beautiful people themselves. After our first two courses in the upper tiers we were promoted to a front row seat for desserts and coffee and Mrs K even had a dessert to mark the occasion. A great night.
I have put some photos on facebook if you are interested to see them.
Chelsea comfortably deal with Wengers pretenders and restore the 5 point lead over ManU. I was never worried.
Yougottalovethatgirl@hotmail.com is our driver to the airport as it threatens to rain. The check-in desks at the airport are all outside just a few paces from where the taxis drop off. We are offered an upgrade at check-in (thanks P!) which we are happy to accept and we dispose of our last Bayan currency with some ease in the departure lounge.
See ya Barbados. Hope to come back some day!
Thanks for reading