27 Jan: We woke up couple of times during the night due to heavy showers when we had to push the water off the edges of the sunshade. We adjusted it in the morning to be less flat.
After a fresh mango and banana breakfast, we’re off to wilder north and east coasts for the day. First stop at the Animal Flower Cave. A small but pleasantly presented park with access to a large sea cave. Our guide is called “English”, because he was born in London. But you wouldn’t know him from any other Barbadian. The caves entrances are just above the ferocious Atlantic swell that beats hard on this coast. Glen and Ellie swim in one of the cave pools and every minute or so a wave of warmer water is big enough to enter the pool.
We move on, driving off the beaten path, through sugar cane fields blowing in the wind and small villages. Occasionally we see a massive colonial house that must have been the plantation owners in days gone by. Easy to imagine what it must have been like as this part of the island seems untouched by modern times. At Cherry Tree Hill there is a view point eastwards over the islands longest beach backed by sand dunes and lush green hills.
Slightly inland we drive down an avenue or overlapping mahogany trees to Barbados Wildlife Reserve where we see monkeys being fed. In the reserve there is one of the original signal stations. Before telephone, this tower station would look out for arriving ships, identify them, then relay signals to other stations using flags, warning the authorities who was arriving, friend or foe. Such were the days of rivalry for these islands between English, French and Spanish. The other use was in case of slavery revolt, the plantation owners could warn others quickly.
We go down to the Long Beach which is strewn with all that weed we saw during the Atlantic crossing. Yesterday, at the market, we’d asked the funny guy “so what’s on the east coast?”. He had replied “nutin’ man, jus’ trees and coconuts from Africa”. Sure enough the beach is just as he said! Mountains of driftwood and coconut shells.
Last stop mushroom rocks at Bathsheba. A very pretty village with huge undercut limestone rocks on the beach, giving them a mushroom shape. We sit for a beer in local bar and watch the view while tuning into the drunken banter. Either the whole male population is smoking something, or they are simple all born with a great sense of humor.
After a long drive it’s early evening back to the boat where a massive sailing yacht is newly arrived into the marina. Must be 170ft long with enormous sloop rig. It would be awesome under sail. But chatting to the crew, it seems the owner is too old now and the sails never come out. What a waste! Rum cocktails in the cockpit while Oana is downloading photos off her phone. We are now under pressure to post the Atlantic crossing album for all to see, before we lose internet.