Getting directions from a Bajan is similar to listening to someone explain a story in a different language or maybe like having a toddler tell you about their new toy. They know exactly what they are saying and look at you as if you should too. “I’m speaking clearly, why don’t you understand”? Now looking back, his instructions made sense only if you’ve walked the path before or possibly were born and raised here. Oh well… off to the market we go!
Last year I can remember arriving around 9am and having slim pickins, so this time I’m on it bright and early.
“So go out the back gate and turn right”. (Back gate of the yard? the neighborhood, the round-about?)
Since I didn’t see a gate in his yard (turns out there is one… oops), I walked out of the front door and headed in the direction he had pointed. So far so good!
His street started to bend so I looked left and behold, a gate! I think. The rickety linked fence stared back at me with a locked, rusted, jagged prison gaurded resemblance. Hmmm… I don’t know about this. Eh, lets go for it!
Side note, probably not the most brilliant idea to hop this trap wearing flowing pants during a windy island day. No need to worry, I survived.
No thanks, I’ll keep walking.
I’m not sure if it was the euphoric state of mind I developed while walking in silence or simply the view that was before me (probably a combination of both), but at this moment, all was in alignment. This is a small piece of what I believe people mean when they suggest to “stop and smell the roses”.
Getting to the market was my goal, but this… this was just as magical.
Back to the directions. “Once you get to the golf course, don’t follow the road, take the pedestrian path over the hill”. Well this looks very “pedestrian” welcome. Not much of a hill as I was expecting, but off the main road is what he said, so here I go!
Wrong. I now have the confidence that I shouldn’t have confidence in my current route. I did a 180 degree turn and headed back towards the main road. As I approached the first split, my eyes zoomed in on the “hill” he must of been speaking of. Yep, according to my burning thighs, this was definitley more of an incline than the golf course!
When was the last time you stopped to smell the roses with your eyes open?
Although I don’t mind getting a bit turned around (in fact most of the time, I love it!) today I was eager to be there on time for the broad selection of organic tropical goodies! Awh, look at this. Help was literally parked at the top of the hill. Thank you Universe!
These two kind gentlmen not only helped me along the way, but drove me a stretch in order to show me the next turn on my journey! If you look at the bottom photo, you can see that he stood and watched until I was on the clear path. Angels.
Turns out everone was on Bajan time this morning which means,”It’ll start when we’re ready”. All righty, so my hour late arrival was actually an hour too soon. Lovin the island vibe! What to do while I watch everyone set up their booth… have a seat at the cafe and absorb it all!
Slowly but surely, stands arose and the market was in full swing! You may recognize some of the produts and people if you’ve been following years past. The Holders Market was a part of the post, The rest of Barbados in a coconut shell!
Can you feel me smiling yet?! The music fired up as I headed on my way back home.
The walk back was just as entertaining as the adventure to get there. Easier on the mind, but not so much on the body. Who knew after years of breaking them in, blisters would appear from my favorite sandals! I got these beauty’s in Vietnam from the post Lady lady, where you from? Good thing I love to feel the earth under my feet!
Look who it is! Greeted with a smile, I walked over to give them the requested update on my Holders experience. I couldn’t tell if the smirks I was receiving were from a joyful reconnection, or simply being entertained by this crazy girl! Either way, they didn’t hesitate for a photo and certainly didn’t decline my offer of toasted coconut chips that I had brought from the market.
I’ll leave you with my final stretch in which I came across a little cheeky friend. Tourists think they’re cute (because they are) and locals think they’re theives (because they are).