The street scene is in Bridgetown, Barbados. I admit that in 2 years, I’ve spent most of my Barbados-days at a crew-hangout beach bar, partying like an undergrad, but one can also walk into the city where “real people” eat and shop. The buildings are a combination of crumbling former colonial grandeur, pastel-colored, decades-old multi-story boxes, and storefronts that wouldn’t look out of place in parts of Brooklyn. There’s a lot of pedestrian traffic, and several streets are paved with brick and blocked off from cars altogether. I love looking around at the ordinary urban spaces of a different country, trying to pinpoint why they look indefinably “off” from similar neighborhoods in the states.
The candy racks in Bridgetown drugstores carry lots of unfamiliar brands, which I’ve enjoyed trying out in the last few months. I stocked up on our last Barbados day, approaching the counter with an armload of coconut cookies and chocolate-and-vanilla wafers like a total Happy Fat Girl! (On that note, the Caribbean would probably also have been good for buying clothing that flatters female curvature, cause Liz and I have gotten hit on more often here than anywhere else. Last month someone told Liz that her body was “a gift from God”! I just can’t bring myself to clothes-shop when we have limited time in each port…)
Speaking of Limited Time, I’m writing from the coffee kiosk in San Juan, waiting for Liz to return from sorting out a luggage-screwup in the airport so we can get a last afternoon in San Juan. I know I keep saying “last,” but it’s been on my mind. This cruise has had an extra level of drama and urgency because of that. It was the last Caribbean cruise, plus the end of Liz’s semester online, plus the child-infested Easter cruise, plus I was trying to get taxes done and coordinate a cruise for my parents next month…all at once. It made things harder with me and Liz. Everything that doesn’t go according to plan seems extra-tragic, since there won’t be another chance for it. If someone schedules an extra boat drill one morning, it means we’ll never get breakfast in Curacao. If our work schedules don’t coincide, it means we’ll never get a nice restaurant-dinner together.
Liz and I might see each other again for a few weeks in June, if she gets sent to this ship for the summer. But we don’t know when we’ll be in the same town again, let alone sharing a cabin. I’ll be on land this summer; she’ll be on a ship; I don’t know where I’ll be in the fall…
Well, tonight, Liz will be in New Jersey (with HER OWN suitcase, thank you), and I’ll be at sea, headed for Cartagena, Columbia. I definitely need to stock up on snacks first, cause our next cruise involves seven sea days in two weeks!