I gifted myself Tobago this week. I bought a ticket, gave myself 30 hours and went. I’m not a lounge-in-the-sun, fan-of-the-sand, swim-in-the-sea kind-of-soul, so I knew that going to Tobago (a known beachlovers destination) would have to be an atypical get-away trip to a tropical island.
Two minutes after clearing customs, I am sinking my teeth into the finger-licking goodness of curried crab and dumpling at Miss Trims in Store Bay. Lord have mercy…that was divinely sumptuous. I could write sonnets and poems to that curried crab!
That out of the way, I checked in, dropped my bags, jumped a route taxi and headed into Scarborough. A wash of indigo water welcomed me to the capital, reminding me that Tobago is the sister that is blessed with a beauty all her own. I spent hours walking the seafront, poking about the shops, admiring the craft and ogooling the bluefood on sale in the market. A deserved stroll and rest in the Botanic Gardens helped me to get my bearings. Then, I was off to Ciao Cafe for handmade Italian gelato… the best tha I’ve ever had.
I taxied back to my room to freshen up. My dinner plans were set eight years ago when my Syrian boss mentioned La Tartaruga as the best Italian fine-dining he has ever had. My seven o’clock reservation had me as the first person to the restaurant; a bottle of wine, a reverent meal, and the end of a bottle of grappa four hours later; I was the last person to leave! My eight-year wait was worth it. I slept like a baby that night with dreams of seasoned olives, slivers of yellowfin tuna swimming in a lemony olive-oil marinade, tomato-pesto smothered gnocchi with freshly grated parmesan and authentic tiramisu with real mascarpone! Lord have mercy, what a dream!
Early up next morning, Yoga was on the agenda. I needed to detox my system and align my chakras for what was ahead. I was going horseback riding!! My anxiety immediately evaporated at the stables and I totally fell in love with my Jamaican Stead: ‘Sweetman’. This racehorse, retired to take up stud services on the stables of Friendship Estate, took me through uncultivated thicket, agricultural land and a romp on the beach before I returned him to his family two hours later. It was amazing and fun and worked my thighs like crazy! The guide said I was a natural; it was great, my first and hopefully not last time at horseback riding.
Its noon now. I rushed to pick up my rental jeep, a hot shower and a hasty lunch precedes my check-out from the Kariwak. I hit the road. I was about the take Tobago end to end. I drove the island, taking stops ever so often to admire the view, photograph the setting, and chat with the people folk. I thoroughly enjoyed that! A scenic drive took me from the greens of Mt Irvine, through the dips of Grafton, the mystery of Plymouth, the Castaran coast, the blues of Bloody Bay, the picture perfect postcard Parlatuvier, the verdance of the Tobago’s Forest Reserve, the agri-scapes of Roxborough, the cascades of Speyside, to finally end in dreamy Charlotteville; where I stopped and chatted with lounging fishermen.
A two-hour coastal drive return, had me saying goodbye to the sun at Fort King George looking down upon the commuters and hustlers of Scarborough. Here it ends. I made my way to Crown Point and traded in my rental for beneballs and a boarding pass.
I once heard an interview with a record-holding distance cyclist who noted that friends don’t understand people who travel by themselves, they think that they’re either mad or brave. But its neither really. I’ll never forgot what he said, he noted that “its necessary!” Boy is he right! I’m neither a swimmer nor a cyclist but as I arrived at home and turned my key in my lock, I couldn’t help but endorse that statement: no matter where you go, getting away from it all… is necessary!