Kingstown and Bequia Double-Bill

Today we were treated to a port-stop double-bill. In the morning, we arrived in Kingstown, St. Vincent, and after lunch, we sailed to Bequia (pronounced ‘Beck-way’) in the Grenadines.

In Kingstown, we went for a walk with Robin, the Whale and Dolphin lecturer, and his wife, Chris. We walked through the busy town to the church with stained glass windows featuring red angels, spent a while photographing wildlife in the churchyard, and then visited the quirky church that looks like its been stuck together from lots of different churches of different styles and periods. Finally, we walked back to the ship via the fish market, popping into a supermarket along the way to stock up on some large bottles of mineral water.

Some passengers had booked themselves a catamarran trip to take them to Bequia, where they would reboard the Marco Polo. The rest of us remained on the Marco Polo for the two-hour trip between the two islands.

When we finally arrived there, both Tracey and myself realised that it wasn’t the island that we’d both believed it was. In retrospect, and having had the opportunity to check back on our own blogs, the island we thought we were going to is Mayrou (although, I’m absolutely sure it isn’t spelt like that), not Bequia.

Our plans for the afternoon were very simple… find a beach to go for a swim. In the place in our heads (which definitely wasn’t Bequia), the tender boat landed right on the beach. As we stood on the deck looking out at the island that wasn’t what we thought it was, we started to wonder about how accessible a beach might be. I argued that a beach must surely be close by, and within walking distance of the tender landing stage, but Tracey counter-argued that she could see no such beach through her new binoculars, and that a taxi ride might be necessaary. Unfortunately, we didn’t have many dollars, and the only dollars available from the Reception would be in the form of a $50 bill (which is fine until you try and spend it and get all your change back in Eastern Caribbean dollars). We disagreed at length; I was convinced that no such money-changing would be necessary, while Tracey was counter-convinced otherwise. Eventually, reluctantly, and to prevent our disagreement from escalating any further, I went to Reception and bought the fifty dollar bill (which cost £45).

We caught the tender boat at our earliest convenience, and approached the quayside with a certain amount of anxiety… for myself, it was with a growing realisation that I had actually been here before, on the trip two years ago which Tracey didn’t come with me on. I still wasn’t sure about the existence of a nearby beach, though…

Once ashore, I persisted in my belief that if we walked in one particular direction, we would come across a beach, at no cost, but because there was no proof of that, we ended up sharing a taxi to said beach with an elderly couple. We were told by the taxi driver that walking it would be problematic because part of the walkway along the coastline was damaged, and that a taxi was the only sensible option… but then, he would say that, wouldn’t he?

We agreed on a fee of $5 per person, each way… so that would be $20 total, then.

When we finally arrived at the beach, about 15 minutes later, the taxi driver, who told us his name was Tim, asked us what time we wished to be picked up. We agreed to go along with the other couple’s preference of 6pm, which would give us about an hour and three quarters to swim. Tim explained that he had another pickup arranged for 6pm, so we had to choose either 15 minutes earlier or later… we chose 5:45pm… He would pick us up then, take us back to town, and take payment from us (he didn’t want it there and then).

We walked down the short lane to the beach, and as we arrived there, another couple, who had come across on the same tender boat as ours, arrived on foot. They confirmed that, despite a short section of delapidated walkway, the route was perfectly walkable, and they had done it in only 20 minutes… hmmmm…..

We spent the next hour and a half swimming and enjoying the beach.

At 5:45pm we dutifully arrived back at the taxi pickup point along with the elderly couple… but Tim didn’t turn up. 6pm passed, and then it was 6:10pm, and I was all for walking back, when a local lady from the beach asked us if we were okay. We explained that we’d been stood up, and she said that she would see what she could do. Five minutes later, a local open-backed jeep turned up, and a woman got out and asked us if we needed a lift (she’d been tipped off by the other lady). When we asked how much, she said that it would be 10 euros (because the other couple only had euros on them), for all four of us… deal!

So all was well that ended well. We even managed to break the $50 dollar bill up in the bar before taking the tender back to the ship; the barman was only to happy to give us our change in US dollars. The only downside was that I managed to lose my hat in the dark somewhere between the bar and the tender boat…

c’est la vie…