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The Reality

Same ship, different day

It’s been nearly three weeks since we arrived here in SVG and that is because we put an offer in on the boat with the naff name and we have been sorting out the ‘stuff you have to do before  buying a boat’ since.

Ottley Hall - hull inspection

Ottley Hall - hull inspection

Once our offer had been accepted we had to arrange a marine survey with an Australian called Chris who flew in from St.Lucia. Once he’d looked inside and inspected all her bits and pieces, we all sailed to Ottley Hall (an hour north of here) to have her hauled out of the sea so that Chris could inspect her more closely. He tapped her all over with a hammer after which she was put back into the sea to sail back.  We had to wait a few days before Chris’s survey was revealed and then did a bit more negotiation with the owner as a result of this. It has been a fairly time consuming process during which we have been trying to occupy our time as best we can.

Rach in Kingstown

Rach in Kingstown

At first glimpse, the island looks like a hiking paradise, however, on closer inspection there is a severe lack of footpaths or pavements of any kind. There are trails in the north to climb the volcano La Soufrière but we have been warned by the locals that we should take a guide because tourists have been robbed in the past. We plan to climb her eventually but until we do, to get some exercise, we have been walking to the capital Kingstown.

Same shirt, different day

Same shirt, different day

 
 
 
 
 
The walk is not a pleasant stroll, it is more of a sweaty march down a main road following a footpath which stops suddenly, and for no apparent reason, making it necessary to take our lives into our hands to cross St.Vincent’s equivalent of the M6 in order to regain it, all the while breathing in lung fulls of sooty black diesel fumes (they clearly don’t have an emissions test here). Our walks have mainly been driven by a search for simple produce such as lettuce and tomatoes, which, even in the big supermarkets, are not a guaranteed find. Jamie found some great snorkelling gear in a fishing shop though!

Rotten but not forgotten, the Carla Marina

Rotten but not forgotten, the Carla Marina

 
 
There is a prettier and less dangerous walk that we sometimes take through what we’ve named the ‘boat graveyard’. Part of the shore  has several wrecks from past hurricanes and they just sit and rot looking forlorn and a little bit creepy.

Fort Duvernette

Fort Duvernette

 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
We hired sea kayaks for the day and rowed over to Fort Duvernette which was built on a volcanic plug in the bay sometime in the 1700’s by the British to ward off the Caribs and the French. It has been restored by the Finnish government (I’m not sure what the link is) and once the 250 plus steps have been climbed the top is bristling with impressive looking cannons. There’s even a little stone cottage hidden away where we had a sighting of our first wild iguana.

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The quest for the Black Pearl

Apartment at Barefoot (SVG)

Apartment at Barefoot (SVG)

After a week in Barbados we were eager to start our yacht search, and, if truth be told, Barbados, as beautiful as the beaches are and as perfect as the sea is,  is pretty touristy, extremely overpriced and it’s a struggle to find decent food.

We flew into St.Vincent and the Grenadines (SVG) yesterday morning – 28th September – (you can read about the finer points here) to visit our first yacht. This place is beautiful; huge, craggy, volcanic,  jungle covered, lush mountains with the Grenadines scattered around in the surrounding sea and easily visible in the distance.

 

Rainbow Chaser - sea trial

Rainbow Chaser - sea trial

We pretty much dumped our stuff in the hotel, had a coffee then went for a ‘test drive’ out on ‘Rainbow Chaser’  (bit of a crap name unfortunately).  The boat seems pretty good (not that I would know otherwise), she was a little shabby around the edges, but it’s hard not to get excited when you see the first potential buy and the dream starts to feel more like the reality. Some decisions need to be made very soon…

Sunset from the balcony

Sunset from the balcony

 

 

 

The food is good here, just what we attempted to find in Barbados but didn’t. We feasted on goat roti for lunch yesterday and it was delicious. The whole place just feels ‘real’, which sounds a bit silly, and it’s hard to explain, but there isn’t much  tourism visible in the village near where we’re staying. It’s just locals with a bakery and bars and a few shops and fish sold on the streets. No big glitzy hotels and air conditioned bars.

The set for The Pirates of the Caribbean is just north of here, we had a drink with one of the extras today, a British naval officer…

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Driving Miss Daisy

Beer on the beach

Beer on the beach

Although Barbados looks fairly small on a map, and before arriving we had plans of being able to walk from the west to the east coast in a couple of hours, the heat dictates that this is not a viable option.

Buses were a consideration, however, our brief experience of them is that they’re hot, sticky, overcrowded and erratically driven, therefore, we ‘copped out’ and hired a car for the day.

We headed north along the beautiful west coast, driving past enormous mansions and tiny shacks (chattels), the divide of wealth is stark.

First port of call was Speightstown which our trusty Lonely Planet described as “easily the most evocative small town on the island”, and they were right. It was lovely, bustling but not overcrowded with locals selling fruit and veg on the streets, the sea sparkling and plenty of friendly people. We tried to find ‘Eats Bar’ in search of rotis, a local dish which I’ve been trying to track down since arrival but still haven’t managed to sample yet. Unfortunately, it’s no longer called Eats and the lady there informed us that she was not cooking today…don’t believe everything you read:(

Cherry Tree Hill

Cherry Tree Hill

An on spec visit was made to Port St. Charles Marina; Robert, a helpful chap, showed us around, there were some beautiful yachts, we are just waiting to hear whether the prices are equally so.

After some ‘discussions’ about my map reading abilities, we headed for the east coast. The view down the coast from Cherry Tree Hill was stunning. It’s in total contrast to the picture paradise west coast. The coastline is rugged and the roar of the Atlantic booms, filling the air with a mist of sea water. Surfers come here but swimming is not advisable.

Bathsheba

Bathsheba

Later we drove to Oistins, 10 minutes east along the south coast from where we’re staying, where, every Friday night, a ‘fish festival’ is held. The fishermen cook their catch, mostly locals and some tourists enjoy the food, drink copiously and dance the night away. Even Jamie ate red snapper and appeared to enjoy it.

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Scouting for treasure

Breakfast on the beach

Breakfast on the beach

Our first morning and we were rudely awoken by the manic cries of a rooster. We got up early and had breakfast on the beach.

Walking to Bridgetown along the beach was a slow and steady affair. Firstly it is so very hot and humid, perhaps hurricane Ophelia building in the distance makes it more so.

Secondly, we kept having to stop to look at things along the way, oh, and swim. And what a glorious place to swim, it was hard to keep the grins of delight from our faces.

 

Colonial Fort

Colonial Fort

 

Bridgetown was a bustling hive of activity with an interesting mix of colonial architecture, Rastafaian culture and bureaucratic throwbacks (we ate lunch from the ‘butty’ van serving the ministry for data entry and statistics).

 

 

 

Number 11 'bus'

Number 11 ‘bus’

 

Catching the bus home after a long day walking was a daunting prospect having seen so many pass with limbs hanging from every window and Reggae music booming, however the other passengers were so friendly and accommodating that it made the journey an experience not to be missed.

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Goodbye job, hello Barbados

Leaving for Barbados

Leaving for Barbados

It’s exactly a week today since I worked my last day. What a stark contrast; at exactly this time last week I was getting onto my bike to cycle the steep ascent of Sharpe’s Hill, whilst mentally preparing myself to face a another miserable day teaching with a bunch of ungrateful brain-dead morons. And the only concern I have now is what to buy for breakfast, HURRAHH!

Digs in Worthing

Digs in Worthing

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