It seems like a year of Weddings, with my friend Nick earlier in May, my former colleague Andrew in early September and my old Friend Ross a month or so back. This time though, it was my sister, Caroline’s wedding to Tennyson, and it involved a trip to back to beautiful St. Lucia.

We were going from Gatwick via Barbados, staying my mothers unfinished, and largely unfunished place there and then flying out via LIAT to SLU and originally, back via Air Jamaica. But Air Jamaica decided to drop the UVF-BGI route and put us on their code-share partner (LIAT) back to Barbados. This was a bit annoying, because when I booked the tickets, there was no flight on LIAT back to BGI. If there was, I’d have booked it, as LIAT was half the price of Air Jamiaca!

So, the flight out was uneventful. We arrived and were picked up after a snafu at immigration. Remember to get the address where you’re staying before going through BGI immigration folks! We only got through because my mum was on their systems already (passing through a few weeks prior). Due to her being at another wedding on the other side of the island, we stayed in a hotel that night, the Hilton. I dipped into the Caribbean sea which was rough and quite exhilariting, the waves were huge, and later on I took some night pics. The hotel was across from the capital, Bridgetown:

Night

Day

Next day, I ventured into town with my Brother to confirm the flight out to St. Lucia. Since the JM ticket said, ‘confirmed’ I didn’t check that segment of the journey. Mistake, as we’ll see later.

Downtown Bridgetown (Parliament is the building in the middle with green shutters)

Anyway, that took a little while, but went smoothly. I decided to see if we could inspect our heritage at the Parliament (one of the oldest - from 1639). We could! In fact, one half of the parliament has been turned into a modern interactive museum of parliamentary history and the other half has a guided tour of the House of Assembly, a lower chamber of elected politicians and then the Senate (appointed), composed of the great and good. The Senate chamber had a massive portrait of the Queen. I thought this was a bit puzzling, since I keep hearing that Barbados wants to be a republic, but apparently the lure of honours keeps the great and good from going for a full break with the UK, which suits me fine.

Photos were not permitted inside, so all I got was this picture of the mailbox (or was it a stamp dispenser, I’m not sure).

We then visited the cathedral, St. Michael’s, for a few minutes rest and to inspect the tomb stones, this one from 1673! And then over to the Synagogue (below right), which now has a state-of-the-art and fascinating museum of Judaism in Barbados.

What’s that you say? Jews in Barbados? Well, no-expects the Spanish Inquisition! They forced the Jews from Spain to Portugal, and then from Portugal to Brazil where they learnt how to grow sugar. The Portuguese inquisition pushed them again, and they migrated, with their knowledge to Cromwellian Barbados, where they taught to English how to grow sugar. Sugar production was labour intensive. We know what happened next.

Sugar was regarded as a spice along with ginger, cinnamon, cloves. As the market for sugar fell, many of the Jews migrated again. Those who didn’t migrate on to the US intermarried with the black population and mostly dwindled away, except for their names and places, Swan Street, Da Costa, Abrahams, Pinto, Barrow.

Synagogue Cemetary

The following day, we flew to St. Lucia. It was a bit crazy, as we took buses to the airport. Both were crammed with school kids and although I had hand luggage only, everyone else took suitcases. Somehow we all fit.
Everything else went smoothly, including the flight. Quite right too, as we were accompanied by the CEO of the airline, Mark Darcy (seen above at the front of the plane). Interestingly, the cockpit door remained open for the flight. Over St. Lucia, I got a picture, under the wing, of the famous Pitons (dual volcanic peaks).

In St. Lucia, we got a taxi to Gros Islet, the tourist area in the north of the island. SLU gained independence in 1979, and it showed, bus stop signs had the TfL roundel, and all the other road signage would look at home in the Highway Code.

The hotel was rather better than I expected and the beach (down the road) was beautiful (iPhone pic).

The wedding was the next day, and the fantastic reception was on a mountain top. The view back over Gros Islet was astounding.

Next day, was a tour of the island, similar but longer to the one I took in 2006 from the Easy Cruise boat. First, we went up to the top of Castries, the capital, for a view down and to see some of the older French architecture:

Past the Chavez funded oil facility, we stopped to have a look at a Banana plantation (from which locals are allowed to pick, so long as they don’t sell any), and that’s me in front of one of the sweeping bays along the coastal route.

Just before Soufrière, the obligatory tourist shot of the Pitons:

and at the bottom of a Swiss-like valley, a volcano gently smouldered.

After visiting the stinky sulphur pits and nearby botanic gardens, and a Creole lunch, we headed back to the Airport, via Magriot Bay, film set of Pirates of the Caribbean.

Back at the airport, it turned out that Air Jamaica’s ‘confirmed’ mark on the ticket meant nothing and we weren’t booked on the LIAT flight back. Everyone stayed calm, and when I failed to get through the Air Jamaica’s office in Barbados (un-suprising on a Sunday afternoon), the LIAT supervisor phoned the LIAT check-in desk at BGI, which is next to the Air Jamaica desk. Thank you, LIAT, for cutting to the chase there, and all was sorted in about 10 mins.

The next day was Concorde and cliffs. Barbados was the only regular (each winter) destination for Concorde other than Paris and New York. In recognition of this BA made a permanent loan of a Concorde to Barbados, and they have built a museum of flight around it. Aside from the museum, which had a replica Concorde departure lounge with menus and faux celebrity announcements, and an impossible to fly Concorde flight simulator, we were taken on-board and given a proper little taste of the flight experience. For once we could actually sit in the plane seats in a plane museum!


That afternoon I visited the cliffs on the rugged east coast. That’s me listening to the iPhone:

and the next day, it was back to Bridgetown to visit a sugar mill.

Errol Barrow and Independence Arch

The bus on the way out of Bridgetown went past the new cricket stadium before shooting up Highway 2A towards Speightstown.

So, as we know, the Jews taught the English how to grow sugar. Babados being a flat island was superb for sugar and a boom developed, which quickly bust as the soil went fallow and the market depressed with falling prices. What followed was a steady development of more and more technology-led efficiency. Barbados led the world in cultivation and harvesting techniques. And that was basically what the museum was about, one sugar technology break-through after another all the way from the 16th to 20th century. Barbados was the world centre for sugar, ending with complete mechanisation today.

Unfortunately, it seemed I picked the wrong sugar museum through (this is the right one, next time maybe). This one was the museum of the main actual working sugar factory on the island, but the sugar was still in the field growing. I could see the yellow hats, implying a factory tour, but the mills were idle, waiting for ripening and cutting to begin. Instead I saw a DVD, an old Pathe style production from the 1930s with sound showing the last remnants of the cane cutters singing and loading sugar into the last working Windmill, and then onto a railway to take the sugar to Bridgetown. Wait...a railway? The only railway I heard of was from my passed-on Grandmother. The video was a bit haunting, thinking of the terrible struggles for liberty and food of the cane cutters (not shown in the film). Still, we know there is a fairly happy ending. Not least demonstrated by the number of spanking new Japanese trucks on the highway.

On the way back, I was enchanted by a view out of the bus over St. George parish. It was a view of Barbados I had never seen before, a valley with fields and hedges, just like England. So the next day, my last day, I went back to have a look.

Getting there was easier said than done. I got off the bus far, far too early and had to walk at least a mile till I got to the high ridge over the valley (near to a water pumping station). Behind me was a sugar cane field and it was readily apparent that the island is indeed built on coral rather than volcanic rock, the “bedrock” below the muddy sugar cane field was exposed at road level and the fossils were laid bare.

After all that walking, I was thirsty, and it was close to midday. So I walked what I thought would be a short distance to a shop selling drinks with a bus stop outside. Mistake, it must have been 2 or three miles. There was nothing till Gun Hill (which was an early warning station for slave control), and when I got there the shop was closed. Still there was a nice view of the island up there.

Not to worry through, back out of Gun Hill, there was a fabulously cheap convenience store where I got a huge bottle of lemonade (for the price), and soon enough the bus came to whip me back, in good time for the journey to the Airport and home again.

Tags: Planes, Buses