Beautiful Barbados

Canwest News Service

"People only come to Barbados to lie on the beach," declares a diminutive blond over rum cocktails on the beach. "Take a hike," say I, meaning it in the nicest possible way. Along with a perfect climate and wonderful beaches, Barbados boasts an English-style National Trust whose sites include 17th-century plantation houses, sugar mills, museums and a 1654 synagogue. Plus, every Sunday the National Trust offers free hikes – a fun way to explore the island.

I was lucky enough to be in Barbados for the Trust's Moonlight Hike, a once- a-month event. Here's how it worked:

At 5:30 p.m., our group – about 60 adults and kids – rendezvous at the St. Thomas Parish post office. Twenty minutes later we've left behind a rural village and its giggling children, who are amused by our twilight parade. On the outskirts we pause to admire exotic crops: cassava, breadfruit, sugar cane, guinea corn, pigeon peas.

Next comes Welchman Hall Gully, named for General William Asygell Williams. Island rumour has it that the shaddock (a.k.a. pomelo) and sweet orange spontaneously produced the world's first grapefruit (though the invention of the grapefruit is also claimed by Jamaica). Overhead, I hear the sound of birds, and ask the man next to me what kind they are. "Bats, actually." Oh.

As green monkeys crash about in the treetops, the group learns that the bitter bark tree yields a malaria treatment called Quashir's Remedy, and that Amerindians used the bark to make insect repellent for their crops. However, the swizzle-stick tree's purpose is obvious.

As darkness falls, National Trust Hike veterans – the ones with the walking sticks – now produce flashlights. Very smart.

On reaching a nutmeg grove, everyone stops and sniffs the spice-scented air – though it's no longer the spice-growing centre it once was.

Emerging from the gully, we loop across fields and meadows under a full moon. At a fence, helpers materialize, opening gates and hoisting us over. Stopping now and then, we examine unusual items such as the red sandalwood seeds that island schoolchildren rub on concrete until they get burning hot. We rest on a hilltop and gaze at the moon, Jupiter, Mars, Orion's Belt. The wind sighs through century-old cabbage palms that produce a delicious fruit, like heart of palm.

Three hours have sped by. Back at the parking lot, we have juice and homemade cakes. Organizers arrange my ride back to the hotel, and friendly voices calling out their goodbyes trail after me down the peaceful hillside.

– For more information, contact barbadosnationaltrust.com; barbados.org.

 

From http://www.kelowna.com/2009/12/04/the-barbados-like-to-hike-with-an-island-paradise-to-explore-theres-no-need-to-waste-time-lazing-about-on-the-beach/

From http://timestranscript.canadaeast.com/travelleisure/article/638162

By Jill Wilson
THE CANADIAN PRESS

ROCKLEY BEACH, Barbados - I have been to the stunning north coast, watched the awe-inspiring Atlantic crash and foam on the steep cliffs and been through the animal flower caves.

Enlarge Photo

The Canadian Press

Rockley Beach is one of the jewels of Barbados.

I have frequented the wild and beautiful east coast -- walked on the white sand of the chi-chi Crane beach where Hugh Grant's been known to frolic, had my bathing suit filled with sand as the powerful waves of Bottom Bay dashed me to the ocean floor, wandered around the huge, eerie coral formations of Bathsheba, which look as if a giant deposited them randomly around the shore.

I have visited the west coast, where the turquoise water is so blue that the word "turquoise" seems inadequate and where every beach is a postcard waiting to happen.

I have been to the legendary Friday-night fish fry in Oistins on the south coast, where it seems as if the whole island gathers to eat fresh flying fish or dolphin (mahi-mahi) and macaroni pie, drink Banks beer from sweating bottles that are warm before you finish them and dance the night away to reggae music.

I've been to the Barbados Jazz Festival on Farley Hill, a natural amphitheatre complete with crumbling ruins at the bottom and a panoramic view of the island at the top.

I've seen sharks and barracudas and fed a stingray at Ocean Park aquarium; I've seen green monkeys and haita congas and been attacked by a goose-like creature with a pink horrible beak at the Barbados Animal Reserve.

I've taken the awesome Adventureland 4x4 tour and bumped and banged around the backroads and byways of the island; I've visited the Mount Gay refinery, home of the oldest rum in the world.

In short, I have explored Barbados from top to bottom, so perhaps I can be forgiven, on this latest trip, for doing almost nothing at all.

My friends and I decided that our only desire this time around was to sit and watch the waves at Rockley Beach, our favourite of Barbados' many lovely strips of sand. On calm days, it's perfect for snorkelling, with a well-marked coral reef within easy swimming distance (and lifeguards on duty). On windy days, the surf kicks up enough to allow for some decent boogie boarding or body surfing.

The one concession we made to our plan of lying motionless on deck chairs and frying ourselves to a melanoma-be-damned crisp was to go on a three-hour hike at 6 a.m. on a Sunday morning, which turned out to be a significant concession.

These free weekly National Trust hikes set off from a different starting point each week; the goal is to cover most of the island in the course of a year. There are morning and evening hikes, but the 6 a.m. start time allows for at least an hour of cooler weather before the sun begins to beat down.

When we arrived at the marshalling area, we were surprised at the number and variety of people -- it's clearly a regular gathering for local hikers.

There were four levels to choose from: The Stop and Stare, which covers eight to 9.5 kilometres in the three hours; the Slow Medium, which covers 13 to 16 kilometres; the slightly more ambitious Fast Medium and the clearly suicidal Grin and Bear, which leads you on a 19-kilometre trot.

We chose the Slow Medium and set off, getting farther away from main roads and into areas we'd never seen before, from open fields to gated mansions. I'd suggest, however, that "Slow Medium" might be a misnomer. This is not a walk for dawdlers or lollygaggers; it is not a ramble. It is for serious walkers. It is, in a word, brisk.

Luckily, Christ Church is not the hilliest parish, but the walk did take us through sugar cane fields where a machete might not have been out of place and where you had to keep an eye on the ground or risk a turned ankle.

It was fantastic, giving a whole new view to the island that we never could have seen, even touring in a car. Unfortunately, I have no pictures of the scenic vistas because if you so much as stopped to tie a shoelace, the rest of the group would be a dot in the distance by the time you stood up.

After the hike was over and we'd bandaged our blisters, as one of my travelling companions put it, "Now the only thing we have to worry about is where and when we're going to eat."

But for three dedicated food lovers, that's a considerable worry. Luckily, one of our dinners was already arranged, as I'd made the reservations months prior.

Tell anyone who's familiar with either Barbados or fine dining that you're going to The Cliff and his eyes will widen gratifyingly. The restaurant -- thanks to chef Paul Owens -- has the highest Zagat rating on the island, with prices to match: BBD$245 (C$151) for a two-course prix fixe menu (not including cocktails, wine or dessert, all of which we indulged in).

In these tough times, it seems ridiculously indulgent to spend such a princely sum on dinner, but what we got was fit for a king (or at least a prince -- Prince Andrew has been known to dine at The Cliff) and how often do you get to visit a restaurant with the reputation as one of the best in the world?

Lit by flickering torches, the restaurant sits perched on a cliff, with wide stone steps that lead down to intimate tables overlooking the surf that rolls into the scenic bay below.

And the food is truly incredible: beef carpaccio that melts in the mouth; gnocchi as fluffy as pillows; perfectly cooked tender duck breast; ravishing lobster ravioli; a lemon tart that might be the best dessert I've ever had.

It was a once-in-a-lifetime experience that we'll remember forever. And be paying off for several months.

On the other end of the spectrum -- but no less enjoyable -- is It's All Good, a modest shack on Rockley Beach manned by the ever-smiling Jasmine Brown, who whips up healthful smoothies with juice and vitamin supplements. What keeps us coming back, though, is what might be the best daiquiri on the island, made with fresh bananas and a generous helping of dark island rum. For BBD$12 (C$7.50), you get an overflowing plastic cup, which Brown will often top up with whatever's left in her blender.

She also slaves over a hot barbecue to grill flying fish, marlin, swordfish, garlic shrimp and other seafood, which she serves on a plate heaped with seasoned grilled potatoes, plantain and a crunchy-sweet coleslaw-like salad topped with walnuts and raisins. It's not elegant, but it's delicious.

Another high-end highlight was Pisces in the St. Lawrence Gap, where the rum sour was perfectly mixed, the Asian-style scallops with crispy lentils perfectly seared and the atmosphere -- terra cotta lanterns, a sea breeze and a view of fishing boats bobbing in the ocean -- perfectly lovely.

Our other splurge, one we've never gone without, is a day trip on a catamaran. A five-hour cruise on a Tiami ship is BBD$175 (C$108), and more relaxing than a day of being pampered at a spa. They pick you up at your hotel and you're greeted at the harbour with a mimosa, after which you set out along the island's west coast, skimming over unreal waters that shift from indigo to azure and sipping the beverages that are brought to you from the open bar by the attentive staff, who strike the perfect balance between funny flirtiness and serious sailoring.

Along the way, you stop to snorkel and swim with sea turtles, which, no matter how many times you do it, is a wondrous experience. The turtles, with their wise-looking faces and mottled shells, are not shy and will brush up against you in the water.

After a lavish buffet lunch, the boat anchors off the luxurious Sandy Lane resort, where you're free to swim ashore to the beach or just lie back and bob effortlessly in the buoyant blue.

God forbid we should exert ourselves.

http://www.boston.com/travel/getaways/caribbean/articles/2008/10/19/measured_by_the_foot/?p1=Well_MostPop_Emailed3#

Pure air, pristine beaches, and miles of byways make hiking eye-opening

By Patricia Borns

Globe Correspondent / October 19, 2008

Belair is where Barbados's tourist industry got its start. Codrington College in St. John Parish opened in 1745 and is the oldest Anglican theological school in the hemisphere. (Patricia Born for The Boston Globe)

The young British fencing coach had left her friends on the beach to go hiking. It was her first time in the Caribbean.

"Hot weather doesn't normally agree with me," she said, nor, she admitted, had hiking. "At home it's an older person's sport."

We met in the East Coast village of Bathsheba, where some 50 outdoors lovers had materialized like a scene from "Field of Dreams." We hiked for four hours, fumbling through light woods and lianas (woody tropical vines); crowding reverently into a former slave chapel smothered in bush; laboring up Melvin Hill to a fisheye-lens view of the green Chimborazo valley below; and over coral promontories where Atlantic waves exploded in furies of spray.

Our guides, George Medford and Carl Fenty, reminded us that the wind washing over us travels some 2,600 miles across the ocean to this coast from The Gambia in West Africa and is some of the purest air in the world.

"This track was part of the Barbados Railway built to transport sugar cane and tourists," said Fenty. "It went bust five times before ceasing operation under its last owner, the Society for the Propagation of the Gospel in Foreign Parts. A first-class seat with champagne cost 48 cents; when the train stalled, the third class got out and pushed."

As we spilled down a heathered slope to the seascape of Cattlewash, raw and romantic in the Byronic sense, the fencer turned to me with shining eyes. "I'm definitely coming back here," she said.

While Barbados can be enjoyed without ever leaving West Coast Highway 1, which is fringed with beaches and hotels, a local passion for walking has created opportunities to explore more than 800 miles of roads at little or no cost. Our trek was one of 45 rambles offered free by Hike Barbados, a program of the Barbados National Trust. No reservations are necessary: Simply meet Sunday morning or afternoon at the designated location, break into groups according to pace, and experience a 6-to-14-mile slice of the island that you might not otherwise see.

"Everything we encounter has a reason in history. Our early settlers planted those palms around their plantations so insect-eating birds could nest in safety," said Victor Cooke, a professional guide and National Trust volunteer, on a hike in rural St. Lucy Parish. "Those mahogany trees were planted near the driveway to shade workers waiting to begin the day. You always see these peas planted at the edges of fields. They were used to make jug-jug, a Christmas stew."

It seemed to my fiance, Ron, and me, that at least half of our company were Bajans (or Barbadians), not visitors like us. Richard Goddard, a program founder, explained, "Hike Barbados started not as a tourist attraction but as a way to connect our own people with their environment and heritage."

We noticed several hikers wearing T-shirts inscribed "the Colin Hudson Hike," commemorating a Hike Barbados leader who died a national hero for his advocacy of sustainable development.

If the turnout for the St. Lucy hike was a good indicator, more Bajans than ever are hitting the trails. When we passed through villages (and increasingly, subdivisions), children and grandparents greeted us with a "Good morning" or "All right," as if the sight of 60 backpackers strung out in twos and threes was an everyday occurrence.

Hiking changed our vacation from the lazy idyll we had planned. We began buying rock cakes of dense Bajan coconut bread for carb fuel and saving empty water bottles to fill at the ubiquitous roadside stand pipes, the island's first water supply fed by underground springs. Our pockets bulged with chips of 18th-century blue and white porcelain, clay pipe stems, and wisps of Sea Island cotton. The best prize, an Amerindian adze made of conch shell, was found and given to us by a local insurance agent who placed its age at 500 to 1,000 years.

Members of smaller groups invited us to join their hikes. One, a Wednesday trek in St. John Parish, climbed to soaring views of Consett Bay and Ragged Point; crossed the gold-grained sand of Bath beach; slogged up Society Hill; and lingered beside the lily pond at Codrington College, where young West Indians study theology in the hush of majestic coral stone buildings.

An ambassador's wife told us about BH3, the Barbados Hash House Harriers, part of an international network whose free outings are modeled on the English schoolboy game Hares and Hounds. The group meets at locations across the island every Saturday at 4 p.m. and welcomes walkers as well as runners.

We tried them all.

Who would have guessed that a 21-by-14-mile island could seem so large and varied? The meandering quality of the roads contributes to a perennial sense of discovery - and to the frequent experience of getting lost.

"Every road in Barbados leads to your destination - eventually," Thomas Loftfield, an assistant director at the Barbados Museum, said reassuringly. The museum's collection of early maps clarifies why this is so. By 1645, English settlers had almost completely deforested Barbados and replanted it with sugarcane, which would drive the economy for the next 350 years. Today's roads and public rights of way are a web of those 17th-century cart paths and cane field intervals.

If there is a successor to Colin Hudson as the articulator of Barbadian byways, Adrian Loveridge might be it. "It's almost painful to reveal the spectacular beaches encountered on this hike," said Loveridge as we picked our way along five miles of the East Coast from Bottom Bay to Crane Beach in St. Philip Parish. Together with his wife, Margaret, Loveridge has packaged six hikes with a stay at the couple's hotel Peach and Quiet, in Christ Church Parish, located near one of Barbados's best unpublicized beaches.

We were seeing the others now: Ginger Bay, Harry Smith Beach, Sam Lord's Beach, and Belair. From a tourist map, you might never know they existed or were accessible by car or bus.

"Barbados was born when the original [tectonic] plate fragmented and the Caribbean portion slid beneath the Atlantic one," Loveridge said as we wound among fossilized crags. "Corals thrived in the shallow water this created, and with a final tectonic push, up came our coral-capped island - you're walking on the ancient, submerged plate now."

A staircased ruin appeared weirdly at the shore's edge. "Three guesses as to what this is," Loveridge challenged us.

"The remains of a health spa," he said. "Picture ladies in Victorian bathing costumes being carried to the beach in litters hoisted by Bajan men."

Invariably the hikes ended with some of us removing to a restaurant or rum shop, where we didn't hesitate to try a full-sugar-strength Plus or caloric staple like macaroni and cheese pie. Moving slowly and poetically through beautiful scenery is one of the pleasures of a walking vacation, but guiltless enjoyment of food shouldn't be overlooked.

We ate our hearts out and returned home tanned and toned, having lost a total of six pounds.

Patricia Borns can be reached at patriciaborns@comcast.net.