Tobago: There and Away
On my first night at Crown Point I caught a routetaxi back to town. We rounded a corner and there—in a field—stood a huge plane, the diffuse light from the terminal highlighting the British flag on its tailfin.
Tobago’s tiny airport is only minutes from the town and is probably the world’s most relaxed. It is almost unfathomable that you can board a plane in dark, rain-sodden Gatwick and be in a tropical island paradise just a few hours later. And here that old cliché holds true. Only fifty-four thousand people live here between rainforest and coral reefs—as if in a dream—and while few are rich, most are happy.
The contrast to London couldn’t be greater, but thanks to London’s extensive Caribbean community there is also much that is familiar. It is as if the paradise they’re always on about is actually real. Although to a visitor perhaps it will never feel real.
—Hang on, I just shot a picture of a bee-eater from my barstool. The Bago Bar is practically on the beach, on the corner of Pigeon Point Road, but the trees grow right to the water’s edge and some of the branches are overhanging the roof. The bird was sitting on one of them, so intent on eating its fruit that I had plenty of time to get out the camera. (Sadly the picture turned out to be blurred, but there will be others. I saw my first hummingbird yesterday).
This is the place to come to watch the sunset, so people keep telling me.
Apparently half the men of Crown Point want to watch it with me. Perhaps I should leave my dress at home tomorrow and wear my stained T-shirt and swimming shorts instead.
However I’m learning to be patient. There is nothing wrong with a friendly chat. The problem is that about half the men of Crown Point—and a smaller percentage of the women—know me by name now, but I won’t be able to recognise them.
That night, as I sat outside for a smoke, I saw a plane go past, flying low above the palm trees as it ascended into the satin-black sky. It had the British flag on its tailfin. Those poor people were rushing back to London, their heads full of colour and sunshine and the soca rhythm still playing in their ears.
So near and yet so far.
Tags: Americas, Crown Point, Neither here nor there, Tobago, Tag Index
Denni