Surfing Lodge Ruins

One of the stranger sights along the walk from Animal Flower Cave to River Bay is this ruined hotel. At some point in the fifties or sixties, I gather, some entrepreneur thought it would be a good idea to promote the north coast as a surfers' paradise. I don't know how long the lodge was in operation, but today this ruin is all that is left of the venture.

I don't know anything about surfing, so I can't speak to the wisdom of the plan, but I've had a good look at that point on the coast, and I just don't see how, once they'd cruised in on their gnarly waves, the surfers could avoid being pureed against the rocky cliffs.

Perhaps that's why the hotel went out of business, when all its guests failed to return from their day's activities.

One thing to note about this point in the walk: there is a hobo-like person who seems to live by the walled perimeter of the surf lodge. He likes to insist you buy something from him as a kind of fee for passing through. One time we bought a wild grapefruit from him (it wasn't entirely edible, but its scent made me think I'd died and gone to citrus heaven) and this time around the GH bargained him down from five dollars to three for an entirely desiccated coconut that he claimed had juice in it.

He seems pretty harmless, and we don't begrudge him his rather marginal means of scraping by. He seems shy about who he approaches—one time I saw him start towards us jauntily, only to melt into the shadows under the trees when he saw the muscular beefcake tourist who happened to be walking in front of us. I felt rather sorry.

The Cow's Nostril

This brief video gives an idea of the wildness of the north coast. Towards the end of the video, you will see a blowhole in action. Our landlady, Barbara Anne Rodriguez (about whom more in a later post), told me that blowholes are known locally as "cow's nostrils"!

Where the Atlantic Meets the Caribbean Sea

The sea off the north coast of Barbados is as wild and crazy as it is because that is the point at which the Atlantic meets the Caribbean Sea. It really is something to behold, the way the water heaves and thrashes around. Great waves, as high as buildings, crash into the cliffs, as depicted above—when you consider that the cliffs are about thirty or forty feet high, you start to get an idea of the scale of the splash I photographed here.

The Kindness of Bajans Part II

In 2012, I observed a rather heartwarming incident on the Connelltown bus ride up to River Bay. Towards the end of the route, the bus wends its way through a complicated warren of residential streets that makes me thankful we are not the car-renting type.

This is about as far from the glitzy, touristy Barbados as you can get. Apart from the Animal Flower Cave, there isn't much that draws tourists as far north as this (I don't know why, as the coast is spectacular). I love to look at the houses and gardens—none are opulent, and a few are in lamentable condition, but even the most shaky-looking chattel house will have something to admire about it, whether it is a bougainvillea in full bloom, spilling over a wall made of cinder blocks, or a poinsettia six feet tall.

While rumbling through one of these neighbourhoods, the bus suddenly drew to a stop alongside a house. A lady (still in her Sunday best) ran down the garden path, frantically waving and smiling. Without a word, the bus driver handed her through his side window a handbag, which she had obviously left behind on the bus earlier that day. Then, with a wave, he drove off, while she walked back to her house beaming and clutching her bag.

I've tried, but I can't quite picture this happening on Toronto transit.

The Walk from River Bay to Animal Flower Cave

For the past three years now, we have taken the bus to River Bay and then walked along the plateau to the Animal Flower Cave and caught the bus back again.

The big drawback of this itinerary is that the inbound bus from the Animal Flower Cave is an unreliable creature. I see in my notebook a note that reads "Inbound bus from Animal Flower Cave is at 44 mins past the hour. Or 12 mins. Who knows?"

Last year, we stood in the hot sun for about an hour and a half waiting for it. I began to lose hope. I was about to bail and call for a taxi, but the walk back to the Animal Flower Cave concession stand to find a phone book would have been about ten minutes long—and what if a bus came during that time?

The GH counselled patience (a situation rich in irony). But sure enough, about ten minutes later, the welcome sight of a blue bus!

So, the strategy nowadays is to ask the driver to let us off at the Animal Flower Cave, have our picnic there, and then walk back to River Bay. Either way, it takes about an hour over rocky ground. I recommend sturdy shoes (at least Crocs) and good sun protection (about which, more to come!)

Picnic at River Bay

To the west side of the River Bay site, there is a stand of casuarina trees, with wonderfully gnarled trunks that throw the most interesting shadows on the sandy ground. There are several picnic benches here. It's a great place to sit and eat an egg and hummus sandwich and sip some tea while watching Bajan families enjoy their Sunday picnics at other tables!

If you're lucky, you might even see an informal cricket match in progress ...

River Bay

Along the north coast of Barbados, the sea behaves like a wild thing, heaving in several different directions at once and crashing on the coral cliffs with great thunderous booms.

But where the river of River Bay runs out to sea, there is a shallow, calm spot where you can take a dip while the Atlantic rages a few yards away.

It's a popular picnic spot. There is a public facility with washrooms and changing rooms, and the Connelltown bus arrives here at about 20 minutes past the hour, every hour.