s of a few dollars! I reccomend that anyone wanting to travel by cargo ship should look into these 'extra costs', as we hadn't been prepared for them. At this point, we were warned about safety in and around the capitol, Port of Spain. ¨Don´t go here, don´t go there, and certainly don´t go out after dark¨. This would become a typical warning from the locals on the island. We'd heard a few things about Trinidad before we'd left ie ¨ooooooh, its dangerous there, be careful¨ etc etc, but these days thats a common response when talking about travel in places that are generally out of peoples´comfort zone. If I´d have listened to everyones tales of concern about different places to which I´d planned to travel, I probably wouldn´t have gone to study in Hull (¨oooooh, it´s rough there, becareful¨!).So yeah, listen to people, be aware of the risks, do your research, be sensible, but don't live in fear. However, in this case some of the warnings turned out to be justified; the crime-rate in Trini is rocketing at the moment, with shootings and stabbings a daily reality. The murder rate for 2008 stood at 460 by the time we left, and is probably over 500 now, which is pretty crazy for a small island. However, many of these are gang and drug - related, and as we had no intention of taking drugs with gangsters, we kept clear of trouble. We´d no more desire to wander around Port of Spain at night time than we would in certain areas of Manchester, London or Hull. Common sense.
During the taxi ride to our guesthouse, we were introduced to the sounds of 'soca' music, with classics such as "I'm gunna eat me some pork this christmas", and "Big banana, small banana"- a fallic tale of the pros and cons of differning penis sizes.
After a day or two, we realised just how expensive it was going to be in Trini. Our guesthouse was owned by Colette's neighbours' wife, and was out in the middle of surburbia, with only taxis to take us anywhere (¨don't use buses - you 'll be mugged¨). Getting everywhere would incur a significant cost, not to mention being environmentally unsound.
After a day or two, we realised just how expensive it was going to be in Trini. Our guesthouse was owned by Colette's neighbours' wife, and was out in the middle of surburbia, with only taxis to take us anywhere (¨don't use buses - you 'll be mugged¨). Getting everywhere would incur a significant cost, not to mention being environmentally unsound.
And then came a ray of sunshine (not that we needed more sunshine - it was already reaching 32 degrees each day, an
d we were feeling pretty frazzled)....in the form of a Trini guy (Trini, not Trannie) called Kyle. His Russian girlfriend was using one of the rooms in the guesthouse as a beauty salon for her business, and so he visited on a regular basis. He imediately adopted us as friends, and drove us to a local supermarket to get some food, with there being no local shops. He was a self - employed blind fitter, and had recently spent some time working in London, where he'd met many friendly Brits who'd looked after him and treated him well. So, it seemed that he wished to make it his mission to treat us well in return; bring on the Karma! Meeting this great guy would define our short stay in Trinidad.
d we were feeling pretty frazzled)....in the form of a Trini guy (Trini, not Trannie) called Kyle. His Russian girlfriend was using one of the rooms in the guesthouse as a beauty salon for her business, and so he visited on a regular basis. He imediately adopted us as friends, and drove us to a local supermarket to get some food, with there being no local shops. He was a self - employed blind fitter, and had recently spent some time working in London, where he'd met many friendly Brits who'd looked after him and treated him well. So, it seemed that he wished to make it his mission to treat us well in return; bring on the Karma! Meeting this great guy would define our short stay in Trinidad. For a few days he insisted in driving us to various spots to partake in various Trini traditions. We stopped at Roti stalls to eat ´Rotis´ and ´Doubles´, simple snacks which had been introduced by the Island's Indian population (that is, immigrants from India, not indegenous Indians). These were a delight to us veggies; a snack consisting of chickpeas in a curry sauce, wrapped in a fried bread, all for about $1. Although, after a couple of days' indulgence, Colette persuaded me that the fried bread element rendered them from being
a healthy option, and if I continued to consume them at that rate, I'd be heading for cardiac arrest. We stopped at roadside fruit stalls along small roads in valleys surrounded by lush, verdent vegetation where we drank fresh milk from coconuts hacked open by Rastas. We tried local delicacies such as salted chunks of dried mango dyed bright pink, a truly hideous concoction....why would one corrupt such a wonderful fruit in this way? We went to Trinidad's most popular beach - Maracas, where we ate 'cheese 'n' bakes, instead of the more popular 'shark 'n' bakes, of course. It angers me that publications such as Lonely planet still promote foods like this to travellers. Due to over-fishing, the world's shark population is in a dire state, and it won't be long until many species become exticnt. Not only will this be a tragic loss of an awsome creature that has been patrolling the seas since long before the dinosaurs even existed, but it will also prove devastating to the marine ecosystem as a whole by eliminating a vital top predator. Okay, rant over. For now.Unfortunatley our priority in Trinidad was getting me to the hospital to make sure I hadnt sustained a fracture during an incident that occurred just before I left England. My right arm was in a removeable sling, which was a bit of a bugger, and made lugging the old backpack around even more of an arduous task. I had no idea how much it would cost, or how long it'd take for me to be seen to. But, Lady Luck appeared to be on our side once more; Alina, Kyles' girlfriend, had an aunty who worked in the hospital. With a single phonecall, a free X-ray and consultant was arranged! Back of the net! Only hitch was, the consultancy would be the day after our boat to Venezuela, so we'd have to stay an extra week for the next boat. What a shame; we'd have to go wait a few days on the neighbouring tropical island paridise of Tobago.
So, after spending a night at Kyles' where he cooked us some delicious food including fried plantain (his genorosity knew no limit!) we caught the boat to Tobago.
Here, we felt a little more free, as it's meant to be much safer than its big sister. We stayed in Bucco beach, a lovely little area which was quiet and had a wonderful beach and amazing sunsets. The locals seemed much more welcoming, and we were 2 of only about 6 tourists in the whole area. There was a jetty at the bottom of our path from which we could jump into the sea each morning. Did a bit of fishing too, which is a rare treat. Caught 5, retruned 3, and ate two. I no longer eat fish, unless I can catch them myself. Due to over-fishing, our once abundant oceans have been ravaged, and are a
bout to be turned into a prehistoric slimey mess. Let me explain. With big predators often gone or greatly depleted, organisms lower on the food web grow more abundant, reducing their own prey in turn. Around the world, loss of fish, combined with increased nutrient inflow from pollution, has caused a bloom of primitive organisms in the ocean: the same algae, bacteria, and jellyfish that dominated the seas before the explosion of complex life 600 million years ago. This has been dubbed by some as “the rise of slime.” I've always had a deep interest in the ecology of the oceans and have a degree in Aquatic biology. I refuse to support an industry that is destroying such a vital ecosystem. However, very occasionally I use a rod and line to catch my dinner. This technique is very selective, and if you catch something thats too small, you can pop it back relatively unharmed to grow bigger and reproduce. And of course, you don't catch turtles, dolphins, birds and whales by accident. But, I suppose in order to be free from hypocrisy, I shouldn't even take the few that I do. But, when living in countries where it's not so easy to get a healthy, consistant protein intake as a vegetarian, a sustainably caught fish here and there I can justify. So, after abstaining from eating fish for over two years, the succulent, tastey flesh was a delicious treat.
bout to be turned into a prehistoric slimey mess. Let me explain. With big predators often gone or greatly depleted, organisms lower on the food web grow more abundant, reducing their own prey in turn. Around the world, loss of fish, combined with increased nutrient inflow from pollution, has caused a bloom of primitive organisms in the ocean: the same algae, bacteria, and jellyfish that dominated the seas before the explosion of complex life 600 million years ago. This has been dubbed by some as “the rise of slime.” I've always had a deep interest in the ecology of the oceans and have a degree in Aquatic biology. I refuse to support an industry that is destroying such a vital ecosystem. However, very occasionally I use a rod and line to catch my dinner. This technique is very selective, and if you catch something thats too small, you can pop it back relatively unharmed to grow bigger and reproduce. And of course, you don't catch turtles, dolphins, birds and whales by accident. But, I suppose in order to be free from hypocrisy, I shouldn't even take the few that I do. But, when living in countries where it's not so easy to get a healthy, consistant protein intake as a vegetarian, a sustainably caught fish here and there I can justify. So, after abstaining from eating fish for over two years, the succulent, tastey flesh was a delicious treat.One day we went on a little boat trip to do some snorkelling over whats left of the Caribbean's once flourishing coral reef. On t
he sunday night, the weekly 'Lime', or party, came to Bucco beach, for the notorious 'Sunday school'. This was really fun....there wereBBQ's set up (with a suprising amount of veggie options), soundsystems pumping, steel drum bands drumming, and artisan stalls. We also had the pleasure of meeting local legend...the one....the only......DJ MICROWAVE!!! Legend indeed. He carries his set up around in a microwave, and actually DJ´s from inside the microwave with the door open! DING! And what a fine selection of reggae old and new.We met a Venezuelan guy who told us to take US dollars to venezuela, as you can get a good rate of exchange on the black market. We attempted to procure some, but missed the bank closing time, and decised to get some in Trinidad the next morning, before we caught the boat. In the end, we couldnt get any which later prooved to be a frustrating hiccup.
The next day we returned to Trinidad and our good man Kyle picked us up from the port. We stayed the night at his house again, where his lovely Mother made us feel most welcome - we talked about vegetarianism, the environment, Obama, and how these fit into her belief a practicing Jahova's witness.
"Are you sure you want to go to South America tommorrow? You can spend Christmas here y'know, we have a wicked Christmas and ting 'ere in Trini y'know!" repeated Kyle, bless him, he really wanted us to stay! He'd become great friend, and we shall definately be in touch.
The next morning, we had a bit of a panic as we couldn't draw any money out from all 4 cards. A wildgoose chase ensued, to what must have been almost every ATM on the island, yet we could not get more money. We pondered on the posibility of staying an extra week and getting money and US dollars, but decided that we were already week behind schedule due to the hospital, and we'd already spent too much money whilst on these islands. One week more was simply too much (much to Kyle's dissapointment). If only the boat was more frequent than once a week. If only we could fly! So, we decided we had enough money to get us to Venezuela where we would contact the banks. We said bye to our good friend, and boarded the sea prowler.
Summary
We left with mixed feelings about Trinidad & Tobago. If we hadn't have met Kyle, we may not have had such a good time. The current levels of violence and the horror stories that we'd heard, had marred our stay slightly. Trinidad seems to be a very divided island, with astonishing contrasts in the welfare of different social classes and a hefty dollop of racism (between the black and Indian communities). One minute you'd be driving past expensive, lavish neighbourhoods, then as if a line were drawn on the ground, you'd be passing impoverished slums, and you'd hear the click of the cars' central locking system as it was activated by the driver.
Sadly, despite the beauty of the island, its population doesn't seem to give a shit about keeping it tidy (obviously it may not be a priority of the poorer people, but what about the rest?) and everywhere we went the roadsides were littered with plastics.
One thing that struck us imediately about this island was the number of cars. Theres far too many. The roads are gridlocked at any point in the day, jammed with 4x4s and old, beat - up, over-sized American monsters. There is public transport, but I guess the old American ideal of personal car ownership is as strong as ever here, and as the island has significant oil reserves (for now), petrol is dirt cheap.
We enjoyed Tobago much more, as it is far more relaxed, and the locals were much friendlier, and there are less cars. But overall, this Caribbean chapter was a bonus; we wouldnt have visited if it weren't for the fact that this is where we'd disembark. We could have gone further and got off in Guyana, or Brazil, but for 90 euro per day each, we had to limit the passage to 12 days. And anyway, this was the closest stop to Venezuela where the trip would truly begin. We just had to come and see what the revolution is all about.
