ISLAND TIME

Alyse Edwards explores Barbados and finds out that time in the Caribbean moves differently...

All I want is a coke. No hamburger, no jerk chicken. Just a plain can of coke, which I could grab myself from the fridge in under 30 seconds. But instead, I am waiting in line as the three women behind the counter flip the burgers nonchalantly, gossiping and hooting with laughter. And definitely not serving anyone. It’s a warm evening, and after the flight from London, dropping off the bags, and coming straight to the festival, I could really use a cold drink. But with rising frustration I realise that won’t be happening quickly. I’m soon to learn, that nothing happens quickly in Barbados.

While I wait, I look around. The first thing I notice are the colours. People wearing hot pinks, bright yellow wraps around their heads, and beaded earrings that would be considered outlandish in London. The air is heavy with spice and coconut. Intermission is over, and music drifts out of the theatre where islanders from all over the Caribbean are performing. I start talking to the woman in line next to me who’s come to watch her sister. It’s such a contrast from my grey, urgent, lonely London morning that I can’t help but laugh. Before I know it, I’ve reached the front of the line and paid for my drink, and walk away smiling.

Island time is a beautiful thing. Sun-baked days stretch on endlessly and blend into each other, so that I’m caught in blissful time-warp. My morning run turns into a walk, because it’s impossible not to stop for photos. The sky is pomegranate pink and the sand is buttery under my feet.

I eat my breakfast from a deckchair facing out at yachts glistening on the marina. We’re staying at Port Ferdinand hotel, on the exclusive north-east side of the island, and I think for the billionth time how I could easily get used to this. If only I could afford the price tag.

The hotel manager Bernard Sarme, is an impeccably dressed st Lucian, with an equally sharp wit. “When you live in one of those apartments, mamma-mia, there is nothing like it!”, he smiles.

“You come here because we have everything here. We have fishing boats, catamarans, sailing boats, scuba diving, jet ski diving, wakeboarding, turtle tours. Whatever you want, we can do it.” I make a mental note to self. Must get out of deck chair at some point this week and try said activities.

My days are filled with sunbaking, salt, watermelon cocktails and fresh seafood. The nights are filled with dancing.

I’m here for Carifesta, the Caribbean’s biggest arts and cultural festival. More than four thousand performers have descended on Barbados and every street corner seems to be heaving. I dive into an eclectic mix of performances- from traditional and contemporary dance, to re-enactments of historical repression and slavery, to comedy, and a gravity-defying limbo routine involving fire and barely-there costumes.

performing folk, hip-hop and spiritual dance.

“This costume is for our masquerade dance where we would use stick fighting and all sorts of things like swords and hats. Some of the dances are very cheeky and fun, and others are energetic and vibrant.” Just like the people here, I think to myself.

The next morning our Island Safari tour guide, Ian Webster, pulls up to the hotel. It seems too serious a name for someone so fun. “Good morning to you all. Each time you board, you are to watch your head and your language!” Everyone giggles.

We sit in the back of the Jeep, bouncing along as we travel off-road through the sugarcane fields and around the island’s parishes. We learn about British colonialism and sugar cane production, stopping occasionally for a glass of icy rum punch, which Ian pours out of a plastic container

I’m invited backstage to meet a group of young performers from Trinidad and Tobago. They’re shy, but love it when I bring out my camera. A striking young woman wearing a feather headdress comes over to talk to me. Her group, Rythmic Vibrations, has been together for 21 years

“I’ve been doing this job about five years and it’s basically what I love to do, it involves meeting people, it involves bantering. It’s not only a warm climate on offer here in Barbados, I’ve always found it’s the people that are the main attraction.”

The next day I meet Anthony Hunt of the island’s famous

Hunt’s Gardens. He’s wearing round glasses and a bright floral shirt that matches his surroundings. He leads us up through a winding trail of tropical plants and lofty palms towards his old plantation house at the top of the garden. We sit overlooking it all, listening to classical music and drinking yet more rum punch.

“This garden was started by me in 2005, and by 2007 it was open to the public. It’s in a collapsed cave from millions of years ago and what I found was a derelict orchard with royal palms growing in it. And I said wonderful, it will make a great garden.”

And it does. I’m in awe of anyone who can keep a plant alive for more than a few weeks, but this man’s dedication is breath-taking.

“They’re all like my children, I know where they all are, what they’re doing, how to cut them back, when to feed them,” he says. He also knows how to entertain, and his guests leave the garden full and merry.

I use the last day of my trip to stop by one of the island’s rum distilleries. Because I haven’t consumed nearly enough rum punch yet. Foursquare Rum Distillery has been family owned and operated for 90 years.

CARIFESTA www.carifesta.net

WHERE TO STAY

The owner, Gayle Seale, tells us that Barbados made its fortune on the back of the sugar cane industry, but as farmers sold their land and diversified, the number of sugar factories dwindled.

“The price of sugar became prohibitive, so for years we’ve all being buying rum from the West Indies rum refinery which is down on the south-west coast of Barbados. You’d get your barrels, you’d bring it up to your own place, you’d blend and add things to it to make it your own. In 1994 my husband decided that he didn’t want to buy from somebody else anymore, he actually wanted to put his own twist on it, so that’s what we did.”

We sit sipping the smokey, liquoricey blends of rum, with the fan whirring gently above us and the doors opening out onto the hibiscus trees outside. The afternoon stretches on, slowly, contentedly. I smile to myself…. island time. Not bad at all.

Port Ferdinand Marina and Luxury Residences. www.portferdinand.com/villas

WHAT TO DO

Foursquare Rum Distillery

Harrison’s Cave tours

Hunte’s Gardens

Sunbury Great House

George Washington House

WHERE TO EAT

Oistins Bay Gardens

Pat’s Place

Jumas Restaurant

Atlantis Restaurant

Champers Restaurant

13°/59° Restaurant

GETTING THERE www.visitbarbados.org www.britishairways.com