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
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’
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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