Despite the fact that what happened AFTER my trip to Barbados was pretty crummy, the trip itself was wonderful. The Caribbean is magic, and I have dreams of buying a tiny cottage by the sea one day, and “wintering” in it when I am an old lady.
I’m making good on a promise: many of the workers, bartenders, and taxi drivers implored me to tell all my friends how wonderful and friendly Barbados is; their primary industry is tourism. It was nice to see how proud the locals were of their tiny, beautiful nation (431 sq. km/161 sq. miles) The bus drivers were happy to make non-bus stop stops for us, taxi drivers turned trips into a tours of the island, and bartenders were eager to chat and share recommendations on things to do. And it’s gorgeous! Homes are painted either soft, sandy colors or bright, fun tropical ones; flowers bloomed everywhere; and when I went snorkeling, I was delighted to meet schools of shy, brightly colored fish.
Although they are happy to accept US currency and peg their dollar to ours at 2:1, the former British colony is very European: they play cricket, use proper British spellings, and EVERYONE was excited about the royal baby, whose birth was announced while I was poolside and immediately elicited squeals from the British sunbathers next to me. But enough with the yammering: photos!
This guy TOTALLY caught me aiming my camera at him.