Diary 1, I now explore some more.
Despite it is closed today, I stop at Morgan Lewis
Windmill from around 1727. It is the last working windmill in the
Caribbean, and it look
great. The same farm have a lot of dairy cattle on
the quite dry slops around the area.
Like most roads on Barbados, they are not really
smooth. Here are landslides under the sealing, potholes and general
I head on a bit, and find the Mahogany alley, leading up to St Nicholas Abbey - which never have been an Abbey. It was build in 1658, and stand quite intact. The interior is authentic (even the ancient toilet works), and the surounding farm still alive, with the original 161 hectares. They grow Mahogany and cane, and produces various products from them as rum.
have a long chat with an old fart, and I actually
think; he is the farther of the owner; Larry Warren. He know everything
about the place, and it is his old restored - and not restored tractors,
that are found in one barn.
When I finally tear my self away, I head for the northern beach. The last bit is through flat meadows with yellow grass and a few cows. Then I reach Archer's Bay, which should have some mushroom rocks. Well, I have seen better yesterday, but the tiny bay is nice. The water is crustal clear, and here are a bit of marine life like the Polyplacophoras. I also find quite some fan corals, which I actually think are the so-called Black Corals.
I head back south, but in a scenic route - or actually
several, and roads tend to be closed or simply gone. Other times, they are
cross cane fields, and not fitted for an uninsured little car.
try to follow the eastern shore close, but that is a challenge. Most times,
I have to drive down narrow trails to get to the sea. And many times, I can
only watch the splashes on the rocks from above.
The bay is protected by a reef, and the big splashes rarely reach the warm pools. The locals are dipping in the inner pools. As I head on, my GPS have some issues with the local roads. It refuses to take the main road, but have no problem with wheel tracks, mend for tractors. To day, I have.
I end up with a tour back cross the central island, by minor roads. Some end in greenery, some at a fence and one in a lake. Never the less; I eventually make it home. Kettle on, and then I start working. I try to work on the porch, but can't stand seeing the dog out here, limping around in its one square meter cage, with a 5*5 centimetre grit for floor. Sometimes, it screams, when it get trapped in the floor. East Coast, Morgan Lewis Windmill, St Nicholas Abbey, Archer's Bay, Little Bay
23. The Easter is over, and I head in to the capital; Brighton. The sun is bit slow this morning, and so am I. I'm not sure what it does, but I am doing accounting. The GPS again want to go by the farmers roads, but that change when I shift it from bicycle-mode to car... Until that, I get to see quite some cane and gravel roads.
Besides from the relatively big cane farms, I pass the rather old sugar factory. Closer to the city, the road is lined with old and small wooden huts and a few newer. Some have no paint left, others are newly painted in bright colours. It is back to normal weekdays, but the traffic is not that intense.
park at the Lower Docks in Brighton, quite central in the little
city. Most buildings seems to be rather old, and here are only a few bigger
ones. The sun is back in full strengths, and the lovely Caribbean sky
The city is a strange mix of all kind of building
styles - some might not even have
a name! Even the rather long pedestrian street
is a bend of time and style.
I end up at Cheapside Public Market, where one part is cooled, and contain two lines of coolers for meat. A few butchers are present, but it is real quiet. Most meat seems to be frozen, and are most likely imported that way. It is pretty much the same picture in the vegetable department, although it is not frozen. It most of all look like a few strangers have snug in, while the rest are gone.
I find another temporary market, but it is completely dead. Almost outside town, I find the Art Market, but as there are no cruise ships in harbour, it is dead too.
On the way back, I pass the bus station - I think, there are no busses. Around the corner is a large area with tiny bars, and here are people! The locals are pretty happy for light-coloured beers like Carib and Stag.
Along the pier, I find Bridgeton Public Market,
this time with a few fish. They are eager to sell me some, I'm determine not
to buy any.
I find some lunch, do a few more loops and give up finding anything new. I head up along the west coast, and it seems like it is one huge, sandy stretch. I stop at Brandons Beach, but the sun have swapped place with some rather dark clouds. After some time, I get the needed glimpses of sun, and head on.
are a few old sheets, but the huge resorts dominates the coast. And the
access to the beach is limited.
I find the beach with a few boats, some old sheets and a few other old stone buildings. I is the river the town is named after - as it reminded the early settlers about a river which in common mouth were called Hole.
I fail to find anything interesting here, and due to
the black clouds, I head homewards. It does lighten a bit on the other side
of the island, but I have seen enough.
24. I get a chat with my host, and find a cane-toad in the garden, before I head up north-west. I find a new route to Holetown, and passes more cane fields and oil pumps. Eventually I end out at the seaside. I do a single stop before Holetown, at a great looking beach.
Around Holetown, a single road crosses the island,
passing Orange Hill on the way. Here are a bit of forest, the remains
of an old windmill and a large golf club. The rest of the houses are kind of
small and old.
Weston should be a typical little western town,
and I guess it is: Boring, except from the excellent beach. The town itself
is a few bars and restaurants, huge private houses and small luxurious
The next town is Speighstown, and it is more interesting. It is a proper town, with shops, old buildings, another perfect beach, a closed fish market and a cafe, serving Cappuccino and calling it Latte. Well, I forgive them due to the view from their sea-facing porch.
I park at the central square, and start walking. Here
are a few pale people, but only at the "hotspots" like bars and restaurants.
I get around most of the town, from the big bank building to the small huts,
in the back alleys.
To make the entire north, I head further up north, along the coast. Here are a few bigger, but pretty decent hotels, then some small fishing villages. One have several larger vessels on the beach, but it seems like they have been here for quite some time.
As I reach the north, the landscape dries out
significantly, Here are yellow grass, barren soil, bushes - some without
leaves. The houses are small huts, most paint gone for a long time since and
the same can be said about the cars.
I finish the loop up north, and head back south
by partly new roads. I drive a bit inland, through farmland, which get
richer and richer. Some areas have white fences around their green fields
with a few horses.
find a new road home, but it all look the same around here: Flat green
hills, scattered huts, small villages and a truly countryside feeling,
although close to the capital.
25. It is a greyish day, and I wait till nine before I set off to the southern part of the island. I pass a lot of farmland, then some rather big houses start to show among the small ones. As I approaches the coast, some larger industries start to mingle in. The small wooden sheets continues like nothing have changed.
I cross the edge, and
get close to the sea. Here I find Oistins and its Berinda Cox Fish Market.
It is quite big, but
quite dead. I try to make some pictures, but everything is under a low roof
and real dark this cloudy day. Outside are a few vegetable stands.
I follow the perfect beach to St Lawrence Gab, which is tourist centre. I find a place for the car, and do a long loop, all around town. I fail to find anything interesting, beside the perfect beach. The sun start to be a bit more active, and the photos improve. St. Lawrence Anglican Church is on the seaside and fare from as glamorous a the Catholic ones.
Along the sea line, numerous bars, restaurants and
small to huge hotels are found. In-between, some tiny old huts are still
having a few hens in the lawn, under the trees. It is an odd mix.
Close to Brighton, I find a fortress, but it is still in use. Next to it is "The house of George Washington". Apparently, he spend some of his youth here. I fail to find it more interesting than the closed horse track next to it. Or the army commanding centre for that matter.
I continues almost to Brighton, and pass some
impressive buildings on the way. Apparently, they are now head quarters for
some big international business. Others are governmental.
I return the car, and quite unexpected, the claim the
payment have been done. Economy Car Rentals have sold me to Eurocar, which
again used Rent a Matic, and I can't recall paying any of them. Well, wrong
time to complain.
Barbados have been interesting, but it lack some of the
wild nature, the previous islands are so rich in. I have driven 463
kilometres, taken 1144 pictures and spend a bit more money, than I had