Argyle Falls
I’d left it too late for the morning’s transport opportunities. The pills made me sleep like a log and I woke up puffy-faced and feeling hung-over without the benefit of any booze. Incredible to think that they prescribe the same stuff, at the same dosage, to children to prevent bed-wetting. It must work by knocking them clean out.
I wondered if the pharmacist thought that I had a problem with bed-wetting.
Anyway, it was past nine by the time I emerged on a completely calm day. I really wanted to go to Pirate’s Bay. Mathio and Co. might be there, but I thought he’d be be perfectly civilised when sober. On the other hand I might as well leave it until tomorrow. And there’s always Christmas.
Buses and Maxis would run today and tomorrow, but Christmas Day and Boxing Day are universal holidays in TT.
Except for Charles who keeps open his restaurant all the time, all year round “for people like you”.
“But I could easily live on crackers and tinned fish for a few days,” I said. “I mean people can get supplies…”
“Yes, but you are only one person,” he said. “There are others who wouldn’t.”
So, let them go hungry, I thought, but I appreciate it. Charles said he wanted to talk to me and from what I could see, the man is not a drunk. I believed him when he said he cared about me. Although that might mean that he’s a fervent Christian.
That evening—two nights ago— the rain was whispering in the leaves all night long. When I eventually donned a rain jacket and went out, there was only one other person in the restaurant. Business was slow and Charles hadn’t started cooking yet. I didn’t want to stay out and wait so he whipped up a salad and some fried plantain and I promised to come back for more another day. I kept eyeing the fishmarket which does a brisk business whenever somebody brings in a catch. The fish are firm and bright-eyed and Charles agreed that they should only be fried for one minute each side.
There may be some fish during Christmas. People here tend to go out at odd times. What a way to escape the most tedious afternoon of the year, with its quarrels and charades!
A flock of yellow parrots fluttered overhead, disappearing into the lush canopy. Here the rainforest comes down straight to the beach. Although it isn’t primary forest, it teems with birdlife. Lizards scuttle through the leaf litter. There are no leeches, no poisonous snakes. This really could be paradise.
*
We arrived in Roxborough on the back of a truck. With the wind in my hair I felt the old romance of the road again, but it wasn’t me who had flagged down the driver. It was a bunch of Canadians who had not yet learned the way of patience.
“When will the next bus be along?”
“Any minute now!”
We passed two buses and a maxi on the way up.
The Argyle Falls are overpriced (40TT) and overrated, but I’m glad I went. There were moments, when there were no people in the viewfinder of my camera, when it was almost peaceful.
On the way back I hoped for a quiet bar or restaurant in Roxborough, but no such luck. I popped a Vitamin X, and a tour-guide actually took me under his wing, pointing out a chair under a shelter by the roadside some way from the bus stop. Before long we were joined by another bloke and two women: an oasis of sobriety away from the leering drunks.
The Canadians had split, with some of the group and their kids going in the hire car while the rest of the group waited for the bus. We had passed them on the way into town in a bar high up in the hills and now I could see why. You wouldn’t want to take your kids to Roxborough anywhere where beer is being served.
*
The weather remained nice and I went to the bay that afternoon. There were seven yachts in the water and the beach was practically crawling with people. Mathio was indeed working, selling coconuts and citrus fruit.
“Strange girl,” he said. “Are you alright?”
“I am now,” I said.
The viz was bad after the recent rains. Mathio advised me to come early in the morning, when it would be better.
He was perfectly civililised.
Tags: Americas, Tobago, Tag Index
Denni