Embracing Every Hour in Barbados
“You didn’t make it down to Oistins on Friday night?” I could almost hear Harold Shepherd’s voice as my flight touched down in Bridgetown this year. It was Sunday when the veteran bartender at The Sandpiper asked me this question on my last trip to Barbados. “You’ll just have to come back,” he said to me with a grin.
— By Kylee Ross
— Photography Kenneth Theysen
On my flight home from Barbados last October, I thought about Shepherd and his recommendations on the island. I looked through pictures and was happy with what I had seen and tasted. But then, the reality of the trip coming to an end set in and a pang of loss hit my chest, grieving for the things I didn’t see or do. With that in mind, I made a pact with myself to revisit the places I didn’t have time to explore.
Friday Night
Harold, I made it to Oistins.
An industrial metal tray of whole lobsters caught my eye. They were marinating in Bajan seasoning, a blend of fresh herbs, hot peppers and aromatics commonly used to season chicken and seafood. I chose my lobster and a side of macaroni pie, and watched the lobster hit the grill with slices of raw white onion stuffed down its back.
Sipping on a rum punch so strong it tickled the back of my throat, I sat at a picnic table and watched lobster, potatoes and dolphin (mahi-mahi) grill on a flame stoked with water from a rum bottle. I couldn’t help but move to the music blasting from the DJ set on stage. Everyone seemed to have the same feeling. Servers danced to the beat as they mixed drinks and moved through the labyrinth of tables.
The first bite of the smoky, herbaceous lobster was reason enough to understand why Harold was adamant I visit the fish fry. It offers a taste of the island—from the seafood caught by local fishermen earlier in the day to the spirit of letting loose under the night sky. There’s nowhere else anyone needs to be. Time slows down while settling in for a night of dancing, savouring local cuisine or throwing back a few drinks.
Saturday Morning
After a few glasses of water to offset the previous night’s rum punches, I was off to the Brighton Farmers Market in search of breakfast. “Bake or bread?” The vendor at a food stall asked me. I chose bake for my fish cutter—a fried flying fish fillet in a salt bread bun. It is a simple dish to find around the island but one I didn’t get to try on my last trip. So I decided to try a local market for my first taste.
The Brighton Farmers Market is held on the grounds of the Brighton Plantation overlooking a valley of farmland close to the centre of the island—boasting lush greenery I hadn’t seen last year while spending most of my time along the west coastline.
I sat beneath the canopy of the flamboyant tree amongst the buzz of people catching up on Saturday morning. I watched as locals and tourists gathered over food and coffee. Others compared their market finds: local hot sauces, crocheted clothing, copper jewellery, baked goods and fresh produce that had been plucked from the mini-market much earlier than when I arrived.
Sunday Afternoon
With the sun starting to dip lower into the late afternoon sky, I drove toward the east side of the island, scaling the twists and turns of rolling hills on Highway 3. I watched a passenger in the car ahead of me put their hand out the window to touch the bushy ends of sugar cane. It set the tone for the rest of my day. I, too, was going to slow down to touch the proverbial sugar cane today.
I drove to PEG Farm and Nature Reserve for a Teatime Delight Tour to learn about their biodynamic, permaculture and free-range animal husbandry practises. My time at PEG kicked off with a meal at their farm-to-table café before heading out to walk the 100-acre patch of land. I started with a fresh bay leaf and lemon iced tea. As I stared out at the vast green landscape spanning all the way to the West Coast, I nibbled on split pea hummus dressed with sautéed onions and cherry tomatoes, olive oil and fresh cilantro. I finished my teatime with burnt molasses cake adorned with purple edible flowers.
Then, we made our way to the gully where I was able to see the most native flora and fauna I had ever seen on the island. We walked amongst undisturbed trees and steep cliffs and stopped briefly to take in the view of the east side of the island from Hackleton's Cliff.
We were standing on the grounds of what once was the Easy Hall Plantation. Now, the land is maintained by a small community who focus on one part of the biodynamic farming practises the farm specialises in. We passed the free-range chickens, a few of the cows grazing to improve soil, a medicinal garden of native plants and the kitchen gardens serving the café.
I ended the tour feeling like I had seen a side of the island that I hadn’t experienced before. Anyone would have to spend more than a week in a country to experience everything it has to offer. Even the longest trips wouldn’t be able to promise that kind of immersion in the culture, cuisine and scenic views. But we do our best, enjoying the things we choose to spend our precious time doing. And when we’re fortunate enough to return to the places we’ve loved, we make time for missed opportunities and sights unseen.
Kylee Ross
is a Montreal-based food and travel writer.
