Day 3 trip report, December 20, 2017

We checked out of the hotel, forgetting to use the ATM (of which more anon). The drive to Piarco airport was through typically diabolical Trinidad traffic. The cabbie eventually did a rat-run through Tunapuna, which gave us our first glimpse of Trini racial segregation; the town seems entirely east Asian. We waited 1½ hours in a featureless airport lounge waiting room because someone (not me) got nervous about the 2 minute walk to the gate, and made us leave the terminal, with its coffee bars, charging stations and free internet, too early. The 25 minute flight to Tobago was fine, disappointing only b/c I wanted to catch a glimpse of Venezuela and it was too cloudy. Trip from Tobago Airport to Parlatuvier was 1 hour/50 minutes with a grouchy cabby, who told us a wild story of how Bill Gates had been staying at Englishman's Bay and had professed it the best beach in the world. Not that it needed much refutation, but everyone to whom we've mentioned it has laughed.

Parlatuvier, though, is great. We're staying at something called Gloucester Place, run by an older expat American couple, and you have the impression of being houseguests rather than tourists. Another amenity is the Glasgow Bar, aka Paradise Point Bar, aka Andy's place, a mere 50 yard walk up the hill. Andy is a scary looking Tobagan guy who'se actually quite sweet and harmless. We chugged down a couple of beers while looking out over Parlatuvier bay, and watching the frigate birds and white tailed tropic birds.

Andy's Bar has this weird caged enclosure for the bartender, which Andy installed after a group of Trinidadian guys started to infest his bar, brining their own food and drink, and got stroppy when he told them they couldn't do that. Tobagans don't much like Trinis.

That evening, Wynn, our host, drove us a couple of miles to Castara, a hippy-esque resort a little further down the coast. He dropped us off on the main road, overlooking the bay; the route down the Boathouse restaurant was a set of steep steps, none too easy to negotiate in the dark. There we had traditional Tobagan goat curry, with various white vegetables (plantains, potatoes, cassava), dal, and a green thing called coulicouli which is evidently stewed amaranth leaves. Better than it sounds.

The place was packed with a mix of tourists and locals. Entertainment for the night was a variably-sized set of local drummers and one guy blowing a conch shell. They were good, but after about 4, ahem, pieces, we had kinda gotten the point, so we headed back.

And here's Marjorie, being entertained...