Friday, March 21, 2008

Notes from my Barbados Journal: Part 1

Arriving at Barbados' Grantley Adams Airport, fresh from the Canadian Music Week 2008 conference. Still grinning from getting to snap Alanis Morissette at her presser, I was delighted to get out of Toronto's white-out conditions.



The flight was late, and wild. I was SO GRATEFUL to have brought Dimenhydrinate, as turbulence plagued us for most of it. Roller coaster - like drops and highs. Comforted by the thought of P's tracking the trip's progress on her laptop from Bongolia , I slept for two hours like a stone. We were lucky to get off the ground. My fellow passengers and I were cringing in unison that the pilot would come on the horn and say we were turning back because visibility was nil. Instead, the pilot ordered a double de-icing of the entire airplane, and we took off on a wing and a prayer. Ha.

Upon debarking the aircraft, the pilot chatted me up when he saw my portfolio. He escorted me to the customs gate, and explained that, while he did not want to die, he very much wanted to get the plane here today because it was HIS VACATION, too! His grin was as big as the ocean.

A twenty minute drive (on the “other” side of the road, eek) gets me to my destination. A generously loaned sofa in a suite at this heavenly place! I love the palm shadows dancing on the walkway to the room.



Palms and their shadows, sounds and shapes will captivate me for the whole week. That, and sea turtles. The place is stunning, vivid and drenched in sunshine. This is one of the cliffside pools at The Crane Residences.

Down below, the beach stretches endlessly...

... while eyes of shelter watch the waves.


We enjoy a lovely light dinner of Salade Ni├žoise, a fine bottle or three of Pino Grigio, terrific conversation, and these dramatic skies after a killer sunset.




I fall asleep to the sound of waves crashing and tree frogs chirping. My Mom always jokes it is a cassette tape they play so I will have to paint these sounds to be certain they are real.

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The next morning, I drink a cup of coffee in a garden at 6 am, gazing over the cliff to the sublime teal sea.

I spy this! A cat in a palm tree, stalking the doves. (He got down safe and sound.)





I spend the day painting at Foul Bay , which is anything but. I used an overturned skiff as an easel.




WhereTF is my signature pink hair? I took it out for this trip. Last time I went swimming in the Caribbean sea, the semi-permanent colour ran in magenta runnels down my body as I sashayed out of the water. Think Carrie, at the end, when she gets doused with the bucket of pig's blood. I had a good time with that! But it was not worth a repeat performance.

I leave you with this, from Foul Bay. Listen….

1 comment:

P-Loh said...

Now you've done it. You've given Max a real case of photographer's envy, and you've convinced Bongo and The Missile that they need to spend their next vacation in Barbados. These are some of the prettiest pictures you've ever taken.