We woke up very early to catch the ferry to Tobago. Considering the impossible transportation arrangements in Trinidad, we chose to walk to the ferry terminal from our hotel, which turned out to be not that terrible. The procedure of going on the ferry wasn’t really clear, but we stood in a line, got tickets, stood in another line which we weren’t supposed to stand in, and then got directed to the ferry. Whatever. It worked.
This ferry was much nice than the one we took in Puerto Rico - the seats are comfortable, there’s a movie playing, and there’s a cafe. We ate breakfast, and Julia immediately fell asleep, being exhausted from the events of the previous night and generally not being very good at waking up too early.
We landed in Scarborough, the main city of Tobago. We had a car rental reservation, and we were supposed to call a guy who in turn was supposed to bring us the car, but since we landed much earlier than we expected, the guy didn’t answer. We decided to take a taxi to the car rental place, which was supposedly near the airport. We stood around and tried to hail taxis, but of course there was a system we didn’t understand, causing us to get into fights we didn’t even understand what they were about. Eventually, a French couple explained to us that we need to wait for a taxi to pull over in a very specific, unmarked spot. This is the spot for the legitimate taxis that go to the airport. Of course.
At the airport, we went into the tourist information center. An extremely nice lady helped us. She called the car rental people who said they couldn’t deliver the car until the evening, but promised to get it to us at the hotel; she called our hotel to check if we can show up early; and then she got us a taxi to take us to the hotel. All this time her friend, an enormous, young woman, was sitting next to us, waiting patiently and smiling to herself.
The receptionist at the Belissimo Boutique hotel in Buccoo showed us to our room. It was next to the swimming pool, which was not necessarily an advantage for us, since it meant more noise. She also said there’s a problem with the hot water which will be taken care of soon, and lastly, there’s a problem with the Wi-Fi network. We were upset, but took her word when she said everything is being take care of.
We went out looking for lunch, but it was late afternoon, and since everything in Tobago is kind of small, most restaurants are only open during meal times. Finally, we found an Italian place that was open, and we had very mediocre pasta.
Back in our room, Julia passed out again for a few hours while I read, When she finally woke up, we went to the lobby for Wi-Fi and waited for the car. There were two young boys in the lobby, watching cartoons. A woman, probably their mom, was cooking in the next kitchen. One of them was craving for attention, and he slowly approached us. I finally asked him for his name but I couldn’t parse it through his thick Caribbean accent. He climbed on the couch, curled himself with his head on the seat and his legs on the backrest. I told him he was crazy. He disagreed. After I wore him out he started asking about our camera. “Take a picture of me!” he insisted. So I did. “Take a picture of she [sic]!” he pointed at Julia, who was very unhappy with the whole situation. “I don’t think she’d like that” I answered. “I will take a picture of you!” he tried a new strategy. “How about I take a picture of both of us?” I said.
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“Take a picture of she!” he asked again. “No. No more pictures”. He started getting a little physical and luckily, the mom just came in from the kitchen. “He’s a very sweet boy, but I know how this will end. He’s getting very excited and playing a little too strong. He’s going to hurt himself and I will feel bad. Please take him from me. I can’t be your boy’s babysitter.”
She apologized and yelled at him a little bit. She went back to the kitchen and the boy went back to his cartoons and turned the volume up. The lady came in from the kitchen. “The TV is extremely loud, and we’re trying to work. We would have gone to our room but the Wi-Fi is down”.
- “I’m sorry” she said. “But the boys keep turning it back up!
- “Maybe you should hit them. Then they’ll know not to do it again.”
She slapped the boy’s butt. I didn’t actually think she was going to hit him, which made me feel a little bad, but just a little. Julia gave me the “are you sure you don’t want to blog about this?” look.
A guy showed up with the car, which was actually a jeep, and a left-handed one, since you drive on the left in Trinidad. We reserved a manual one, but thank god there was a problem and they had to give us an automatic one. Driving on the left side of the road is hard enough without having to deal with shifting gears with your left hand. I kept turning the windshield wipers instead of signaling for turns.
We drove, slowly, to Crown Point, which was the closest town where something was actually happening to get some food. We drove back to the hotel, where we discovered there was still no hot water. The same woman was in the reception, and I yelled at her a little bit. “Not only there’s no hot water, I can’t work from the room because there’s no Wi-Fi, and I can’t work in the lobby because there I need to babysit your kids! Am I on vacation or are you on vacation?!” It’s amazing how both my accent, intonation, and phrasing become very Israeli when I get mad. I’m like the blue and white hulk.
To calm me down, we walked around Buccoo for a little bit, grabbed a beer and went to bed.
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