What the hell am I doing in Barbados? It's a pretty good question.
After my mom passed, I didn't really take time to grieve. It was all work, and teaching, and work, and going to Arizona to see Dad, and work, and going to Connecticut to see Joyce, and work, and dealing with the hip labral tear I'd been ignoring for the better part of a year, and work.... I'd joked that I was fine and just "postponing the grieving process to a more convenient time." But grief don't play that way, and things were getting ahead of me. I noticed I was getting unreasonably angry or unreasonably sad in a manner that was totally disproportionate to the provocation. And the itty bitty voice of sanity (which I've trusted ever since it talked me down from a near-panic attack ages ago) said: you need to take a break, and go someplace AWAY, and sit on a beach with a drink with a little umbrella in it, and get your damn head on straight.
I decided Itty Bitty Voice of Sanity was speaking truth (even though I don't even like drinks with little umbrellas), and told my boss I wanted to take off two weeks in March. When he questioned the necessity of this at this time, I burst into tears in his office, which served to illustrate the problem and also get me my days off.
It was only after this moment that I realized I was looking at the weeks of Spring Break, and - unless I wanted to go to Mexico (which, in the past, has come with its own gastro-intestinal issues), most places with the drinks with the little umbrellas would be invaded by college students reenacting "Girls Gone Wild" videos, leaving me only with options expensive enough to be outside the traditional spring break budget (and possibly my own). I was really about to throw in the towel on this plan when a Caribbean cruise on my favorite line (Windstar) popped up on the Reduced Single Supplement list. (All hail the Reduced Single Supplement list.) Throwing all of my frequent flier miles at the problem and picking up a cheap pre-cruise hotel on Hotwire, and next thing you know, I'm on a plane to Barbados.
And now, the travelogue.
Flight got in around 11 p.m. I got through Immigration right quick (do the stupid thing online in advance and outrun everyone else on your plane who is stopped at the computer terminals) and then made a beeline for the restroom. Not just for the usual reason. I had also packed a hip support in my carryon, to be used for hauling my luggage off the carousel. (Plan ahead, I did.) What I hadn't counted on was jamming myself into a little stall with no purse hook, trying to balance my purse and my skirt, while wrapping the damn brace around me without the FUCKING VELCRO STICKING TO ITSELF or the purse sliding off my arm and me having to start again. Much cursing. Visions of Barbadian Security watching videos thinking, "she's been in there an awful long time; is she smuggling drugs?" Finally got the damn thing on and out to baggage claim. Then, I couldn't find my bag. All the bags had come off the plane and mine was not among them. (Now I REALLY thought security had questioned my bathroom stay and had pulled my bag.) But the Luggage Guy was pretty laid back about it, and Laid Back is catching, and eventually my bag showed up on the carousel, as though it had been circling for an hour. (The lock was missing, but whatevs.)
Got some local currency at the airport ATM. The Barbadian dollar is linked to the US dollar, at a rate of 50 cents. (Which makes it pretty easy to do the conversions in your head.) Local currency is subtly encouraged. The taxi to my hotel was a flat rate of 69 Barbadian dollars or $35 US. (I see what you did there.)
I usually don't name hotels but let's hear it for the Radisson Aquatica which, upon marking my reservation for late arrival, realized there would be no food options at midnight, so left a little snack in room. (A good one! A small sandwich, an apple, and a slice of cake. Actually, two of everything, as they didn't realize it was just me.) Complimentary and everything. Didn't quite realize how hungry I was until I inhaled two apples and a couple sammies.
I had a full day in Barbados today - cruise leaves tomorrow - and, like, zero plans for it. Last night (while devouring the sammies), I was googling shit like, "what to do in one day in Barbados." Most recommendations involved the white sand beaches, which didn't feel right. (I mean, I'm gonna be doing a lot of relaxing on the cruise. And also, here's me in a whole new country and I figure I could be a little respectful and check out something particularly LOCAL rather than just a beach.)
Lunch was sorted, though. There was a really high rated food stall (Cuzz's Fish Stand) conveniently located, like, right off the hotel's property. The internet says you should have a Cuzz's Fish Cutter and the Internet Does Not Lie. It's a piece of (very) fresh grilled Marlin with a slice of cheddar on a soft nummy bun. (And it's, like, $13. BARBADIAN.) Tasty and a deal.
After a day in transit, I really felt like taking a walk and taking in some of sights, if there was anything nearby to see. Turns out (about 5th on the list of Shit To Do in Barbados) was a historical walking tour which involved two sights pretty freakin' near me. (And, I mean, if I consider it walking distance, it's walking distance.)
I started in the Barbados Museum and Historical Society which is a pretty small museum built in an old British Garrison. Two facts about the museum: (1) most of it lacks air conditioning; and (2) I was the only person in it. This was a good thing. I'm still masking indoors, but the humidity was making my mask damp (I doubted its efficacy at this point) and since I was the only one in the place, I just took it off, which seriously aided breathability. As for the museum itself, I was kind of most stricken by, well, how small it was. I mean, I'm in the whole "history of Barbadian people" section, and it basically starts with, "we don't know what became of the original AmerIndian [the museum's word of choice] population" and moves on to "after that, it was all folks who were in indentured servitude and others who were enslaved." It's important to document this history, but it isn't like there are a whole lot of Barbadian historical heroes to celebrate. I'm starting to understand why they have a statue to Rhianna here. She's that big a deal. Look, this was in the museum.
The next place to visit was the George Washington House. Did you know Barbados was the only foreign country George Washington ever visited? It wasn't a state visit or anything; he came when he was younger, to accompany his older brother who was trying to recover from tuberculosis. Did not go will. Brother eventually died of it and George picked up smallpox when he was here. (On the plus side, the experience would eventually prompt George to innoculate the Continental Army against smallpox -- against the dictates of Congress. That's right, y'all, we might not have won independence had George Washington not been willing to go against the government and innoculate the troops. Fun fact.) ANYWAY, the bottom level of the house is a renovation of how it looked when the Washingtons were there, and the upstairs is another museum - including more slavery exhibits and a discussion of George's own moral ambiguity on this; he wanted to stop selling human beings, but couldn't quite manage to free the human beings he personally owned. (Lafayette apparently kept trying to get him to do so. Go Lafayette.) I was alone in this museum, too. I can really get into all these private museum visits. (I guess everyone else was at the white sand beaches.)
When they were renovating the George Washington house, archeologists found a series of tunnels under the house and, really, the entirety of the garrison. Like, nine of them, one as long as a kilometer. They were apparently designed to enable quick evacuation if the garrison were overrun, but never used. They let you walk down one (from the cafe to the car park) for about 200m. They've added lighting, which is nice, because the whole thing is, well, not for claustrophobics. Single-file only is what I'm saying.
Got back to my hotel around 3:30 and with the extra time to kill, figured that NOW I should drop by the ol' white sand beach and at least dip my feet in the Caribbean. The water was a bit... intense. You know how sometimes when you walk on the beach, the little waves come in and deposit sand and if you're not paying attention, you end up buried up to your ankles? This was the reverse. The little waves came in and started eating away at the sand around your feet and the next thing you know, the sand disappears out from under you and you're standing on an unstable little sand platform. This didn't seem fun, so I sat on a lounge chair to dry off. There's music in the background and wave noises in front of me and there's a very good chance I dozed off because there's a half hour or so I cannot account for.
Had dinner at the hotel restaurant which was right above the beach. The sunset wasn't much to look at, but my phone found some really pretty blues in there and this is one time the picture improved on the reality (with no filters)!
And that's all I got. It's off to the cruise terminal tomorrow. Maybe I'll be able to journal the trip; maybe not. (Ship's wifi is pricey. I'll likely have phone when we're close to the islands, and can maybe do a little tethering, but we'll see how it goes.) ANYWAY, journalling isn't the first priority. First priority is finding a tasty one of them drinks with an umbrella in it.
