Advertising Or The Lack Thereof
[Delayed Entry]
It’s nice to have a guide: you can just close your eyes and saunter along. Everything is served to you on a platter.
I don’t have a guide (relax John!) but so far everybody has been keen about explaining things to me. Even the taxi guys at the airport knew about Pearl’s Guesthouse. And this was just as well, because the place isn’t advertised. On the contrary: there is no sign at the door, the iron gates are kept shut and the grounds are patrolled by a pack of guard dogs to keep out the vagrants that have set up camp in Victoria Square opposite.
But there was a man sweeping the courtyard and when the taxi pulled up he beckoned me inside. He showed me a bright, clean room and a nice balcony that runs right around the upper storey of the colonial building, with a handy kitchen/lounge in the corner. It’s twenty dollars a night.
I didn’t hesitate, booking for three nights which would give me time to look at my options. But apparently the ‘no advertising’ rule also applies to the tourist information office which I may have walked past repeatedly in the noon heat because its place on the LP map is instead occupied by the Ministry of Finance (Tax Division). A scribbled note on my downloaded pages gives a different address, so it might have moved, but that street does not seem to exist.
It seems that the way of getting around Trinidad and Tobago solo and on a budget involves listening to the grapewine. At least I knew where the ferry terminal is, along with the breakfast shed (no longer a tin shed but an airy, pale yellow building with arching roofs that will go by the fancy name of Les Femmes du Chalet when it reopens after my departure), the lighthouse, Independence Square and various other sights that the taxi driver, who introduced himself as Mr. Douglas, pointed out to me.
I’ve never been more glad that I’ve sprung for the airport taxi. Normally, I would turn a blind eye to the signs (let alone the touts, of which there aren’t any) and march out of the terminal building in the general direction of the maxi/bemo/bus stop because I know that I can get to town for 1/10th the cost, no matter what it takes. But yesterday my flight was late and I was exasperated after the circus that is Barbados transit when it involves VA (as I said: long story), and so had decided to blow the budget. Wise move. Mr. Douglas noted in passing that there are no maxis at that time of night.
This morning I checked out the ferry terminal and found that I would be well-advised to book ahead, so I decided there and then to go to Tobago on Wednesday. It’s the best place to find my bearings and get used to island life, and to how things are done here.
Not that I’m done with Trinidad! There is a spectacular bird reserve on the west coast but the associated eco lodge costs hundreds of dollars a night (I’m not talking TT dollars). A little way up a hill— according to LP—there is a guesthouse that charges just twenty or thirty dollars. But I’ll have to find out where it is (it could be any in a row of houses, none of which are numbered) and if it has any vacancies. And I’ll have to find out similar things about other such places.
Normally I would disembark in the general area of a guest house or hostel and—if its full—walk around until I find somewhere else, usually nearby. Even in Palu, guest houses have signs.
But not here. And there are no others nearby. So I’ll have to go to Tobago.
But it’s a steal at less than ten dollars each way.
Tags: Americas, Pearl Guesthouse, Portof Spain, Trinidad and Tobago, Tag Index
Denni