Unity Bar Lecture: June 25, 2010: Robert Verdun discussses "15 Ways to Improve our Number One Industry without Expending a New Penny"

The next lecture in the series will be delivered on Friday, June 25, 2010, by Mr. J. Robert (Bob) Verdun, Specialist in Social & Environmental Responsibility, Hotelier and Columnist, at the "Errol Barrow Gallery", DLP Headquarters, 'Kennington', George Street, Belleville, St. Michael; his/her topic will be "15 Ways to Improve our Number One Industry without Expending a New Penny". As usual lunch will be served from 12.30 pm and the lecture will start at 1.00 pm.

Waiting Not In Vain: Where Do I Find Barbados?

Whenever we have visitors I like to get them to reflect on their trip in its many and varied ways. I sometimes incorporate parts of that, gained from conversations, in what I write, but I prefer to get impressions in their own words. Here is one fresh set of views, which has a wonderful perspective from an American visitor who wanted to see the island and find out something about her Barbadian grandparents.
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By Margarett

Our Barbados experience was one we will long remember, not only for the beauty of the island and the warmth of the people, but for our post-9-11-type travel experiences getting there and returning to Washington DC.

We had planned early, read guide books, looked over maps, talked to others who had visited Barbados, and rolled out of bed very early the morning of our departure in order to arrive at the airport early and avoid problems, but Murphy’s Law took effect before our plane departed. Philadelphia was experiencing winds that were gusting up to 40 miles an hour; we had to wait for clearance from Philadelphia to take off but when we arrived in Philly air-space, our pilot was instructed not to land. We circled the city for almost an hour, while the flight we had booked so carefully took off for Barbados without us. We were rerouted and arrived at Grantley Adams International Airport more than 7 hours later than scheduled. Thank God (or Steve Jobs) for cell phones!! Our hosts were understanding; they’d had similar travel experiences in the past.

The immigration and customs and the baggage handlers in airport were efficient; they were obviously tired and wanted to get us on our way so that they could go home. As we picked up our rental car, we were asked if we had ever driven on the wrong side of the road, i.e., the left side, before. Fortunately, one of us had had experience. We were grateful to be able to follow our host home rather than try to navigate on our own, as it was almost 11 pm.

The next morning, we accompanied our host to a weekly lunch gathering of friends and acquaintances, several of whom had originally met at the Saturday morning Brighton Farmers' Market. We had crossed the center of the island diagonally to reach Bathsheba, in St Joseph’s Parish, and the Atlantis Hotel. We found a wonderful buffet lunch of familiar and not so familiar food. The food was well prepared and well served; we ate too much, of course, not noticing our over indulgence because of the beauty of the east coast.

We spent much of our time in Barbados exploring the south and west coasts, getting lost several times. The Bajans we asked for directions were generous with their knowledge and advice. Everyone we met communicated a sincere desire to answer our questions and give us any help needed: from the bus driver who showed us the way home at 11pm at night to the guys having a few drinks at a “provisional” bar on Sunday morning - - wasn’t that faded tee-shirt on one of the Sunday morning revelers displaying an image of the New York City skyline with the Twin Towers still in the foreground? Life seems to be lived in real time though; it is more than just motions. Each time we got lost, we managed to find our way back to Bussa, our landmark.

Our trip to the Saturday morning breakfast at Brighton Market introduced us to new friends and an eclectic group of vendors. As it was the day before Easter, the Easter Bunny came on his tractor, bringing freshly dug carrots for all the children. The Bunny loaded all the children in the wagon he was pulling and took them for a ride. They whooped and shrieked, as delighted children do. It is sad that many adults lose their ability to enjoy simple experiences in the same easy manner. As a retired educator, I was impressed by how well-behaved the children were. Would that parents in the area in which we live had the same high standards for their children.

At Brighton, a new friend, William, who had been born in Barbados but spent much of his life in Canada, asked around to get information for us about Rock Dundo, St. Michael’s, where my grandfather was born. He learned that the Great House was still there and he got some sketchy information from an old-timer about how to get to it. William and his wife picked us up the next morning and we headed to the Rock Dundo area but, as we didn’t know the exact street where the Great House was located, our guide consulted with some locals. We had to “tour” the area to find the house as it has not been taken over by the Heritage Trust and wasn’t easy to locate. We took pictures to send to our relatives.

We were impressed by a great many of the ways-of-life of Barbados and the friendly Bajans. One of the most impressive thing was that Bajans do not seem to let a “tight schedule” dictate how every minute will be spent; no one seemed to be in a huge rush to get to the next activity on their schedule early so they could “wait”. They always spent a few minutes visiting when greeting each other, asking for information, or otherwise engaged with others. Many Americans we know make a practice of hurrying up so they can wait – or so they can stress themselves into a cardiac arrest! Another wonderful aspect of Bajan life is the beautiful public parks and beaches, among them public beaches on the south shore and Farley Hill in St. Peter’s. Also, as a farm girl from Texas, I was very impressed with the sleek, good-condition of the goats, milk and beef cattle, and horses, considering there was a drought in progress.

The good news was we didn’t gain any weight from the wonderful Barbadian food; it is delicious but not fattening. The bad news was that it turned out to be harder to get off the island and back to the US that it was to get there. Because our plane was 4 ½ hours late taking off, we had to make an unplanned visit to Miami and leave for DC the next day. The Miami airport vendors were closed when we got there, but we were told the hotel had a restaurant and room service. It turned out the restaurant was closed and the kitchen was all out of food – so no room service. The bartender was just making her last call, as we crossed the lobby, so we didn’t have to go to bed thirsty as well as hungry. DC was in the middle of a heat wave when we arrived; luckily we had been acclimatized in Barbados.

Man-Made Islands In The Caribbean Sun

Paul Altman knows about putting development ideas into action. Barbados is well known for project that bear his hallmark. Now, he has an idea to create man-made offshore islands that will give a new 'lifestyle'. Judging from the artist's impression, that vision for the project at Lime Grove will indeed be an amazing change of style. The development will have 12 commercial/retail buildings, plus 56 planned residential buildings - the first 8 townhouses - a show home to be open in Spring 2010. The Nation gives a good outline of other elements of the project. More information is also available at the Limegrove website. But, the idea of reclaiming land is bold, as is the notion of bringing in major high-end retail names.

When he spoke at yesterday's Broad Street Journal Business Breakfast, at Tamarind Cove, you could sense the suspense in the minds of the audience as he outlined his project. Two islands off the west coast, which will include a small island that has a national park as intended recreation space for locals.Admittedly, the main island and development seems geared at tourists, as a means of getting them to 'linger longer' and to part with more of their foreign exchange. But, one of my constant concerns about what I see of tourism here is that it does not seem driven enough to maximise tourists spending in a way that is consistent with the market it has set up for tourism.

Barbados is not Dubai, and should not aim to be. But Barbados needs a image make over. I personally wonder why Barbadian tourism has developed a sort of brand less image--nothing wrong with boutique hotels. But, when the market has been to target high-end tourists then they will not be attracted by faceless and nameless items of indifferent quality; they would be attracted by brands, which have a pedigree. Mr. Altman's project will have some of that with its Louis Vuitton, Ralph Lauren and Cartier flagship stores, and a dazzling array of world renowned brands on sale in other stores. It will also try to blend in some of the historic character of the island, which is also something that should be better stressed across the island. It will be a very interesting visit to see this project in 12 months' time.

Spice Alive Again

I've known that Barbados had a drive-in movie theatre but never yet had the chance to go there to see a film. So, it was ironic that I went there last night, but to see a pop music concert, when Spice & Company went live again. Whatever its merits for films, the Globe is a great venue for live music. Would it be a place to use for that more often? When Barbadians think about ways to boost their brand of tourism it's not always clear that they know how to value the good assets. But, leave that for now. Let's get into the Irie feeling from last night.

No sooner had we negotiated the parking (with at least five people pointing us in different directions) and entered, than I had a microphone pressed into my face to offer comments on the upcoming concert. The reporter wanted the view of a non-Bajan, so I was a fitting choice. I admitted that I had not listened to Spice that much in their hey day as they did not penetrate England very much. Funny then that one of their songs, 'Rebel in London', recounted their unfortunate experiences at Heathrow (including a strip search) when they visited London to try to secure a recording contract.

Emile Straker's Merrymen had made their brand of Barbadian Calypso popular, for four decades since the early 1960s. Spice & Company, led by Emile's son, Dean, made popular a certain brand of Barbadian reggae-inspired music. Spice & Company came alive again to present their well-known songs and take many back into the 1980s.

It was an eerie feeling to watch Allan Shepphard, with streaked hair, flashing back his locks, waving his arms, high stepping across the stage and singing "Irie feeling". Make no bones about it, Barbadians were out in full force to support a group that truly reflected them: the group's appeal clearly crossed the racial line. Older white poppers were winding better than many younger white poppers. Black Soca fans rubbed up against some white neighbours. Spice allowed everyone to put as much salt and pepper together to suit all tastes.

Reggae fanatics did not worry that Dean Straker did not have locks and looked dressed for a spell of military duty. The band brought on Gospel singers and found a place for the ubiquitous Defence Force marching band. All was fair in the dark of the night.

The music was what it needed to be: fresh, lively, organized, clean lyrics, involved the crowd, filled with energy. The crowd got the encore they wanted. The VIPs looked to have been well treated. Food, from the famous Snackette or elsewhere,was not too expensive and fresh tasting. The tail gaters had a ball as they pulled drink and food from their ample coolers. The rockers got going early and conger liners had to wait awhile before they hear their song and reeled off in a snaking line through the area up to the Snackette. Friends greeted each other and forget the years.

The concert finished with a great flourish. With the band gone from the stage, the parting onlookers were treated to a spectacular fireworks show. I loved it but could not wonder with the recent spate of cane fires if this was going to leave a nasty taste if we saw smouldering fields the next day. Gladly it did not. So, I have tunes rocking in my head now and still a good Irie feeling.

Broad Street Journal Business Breakfast, March 1: Speaker--Paul Altman

Real estate executive Paul Altman, one of Barbados’ most prominent realtors and developers, has agreed to speak at the second BSJ Breakfast Club meeting, which will be held at the Palm Room at Tamarind Cove Hotel from 7:30am to 9:30am on Monday, March 1, 2010. Mr. Altman will discuss in further detail his idea of creating Dubai-style man-made islands off Barbados’ west coast, provide an update on the progress of his current project, Limegrove, which will transform the look and public spaces of Holetown, and take a look at Barbados’ future prospects in the high-end international real estate market.

Among Mr. Altman’s many accomplishments in the real estate sector, apart from his present role as lead developer of Limegrove, was the conception and execution of Sugar Hill, the residential tennis resort which is home to many wealthy expatriates, including Sir Cliff Richard. Editor of The Broad Street Journal, Patrick Hoyos said, “The Club is most fortunate to have as respected and dynamic a person as Paul Altman agree to address its second meeting, following an excellent presentation by Prof. Avinash Persaud, who launched the 2010 series last Monday."

The price for the full breakfast event is Bds$46 if paid by Friday, Feb. 26 and $57.50 at the door, if space is available. make checks payable to Hoyos Publishing Inc. Contact Pat Hoyos via email at bsj@caribsurf.com or mobile 230-5687 to make your reservations.

Broad Street Journal Breakfast Club Resumes

Pat Hoyos, publisher of 'Who's Who in Barbados Business' and sometime moderator of VOB's 'Down to Brass Tacks', has restarted his monthly Broad Street Journal Breakfast Club. Today, he had Prof. Avinash Persaud speaking on the topic 'The ins and outs of the Four Seasons rescue and its role in upgrading of our tourism sector'.

Just over 30 persons, mainly business executives, and a few journalists, were present at Accra Beach Hotel, from 7.30 am, to hear Prof. Persaud go over some of the background to the recent rescue and his role in that; he spiced things up a little with some look behind the scenes. I wont rehearse the topic here as it has been well covered here and elsewhere over recent weeks.

I welcome opportunities being offered to discuss pertinent topics, so it will be nice if this forum takes off again, albeit with its relatively narrow basis of participants. But, I will try to flag upcoming breakfasts and I am sure that the more interest the better.

It Is What You Do And The Way That You Do It: Tourism Diversification

Today's papers have a report of comments made last week by the central bank governor after the release of the latest economic review (see Advocate article, for instance). His essential point is that Barbados is not necessarily disadvantaged by its heavy reliance on tourism. He touched on the fact that Barbados had "not explored fully the possibility of diversification within the tourism industry" and he "does not believe that enough has been done to develop other areas, and appeal to the interest of other tourist segments". He cites events such as Crop Over, noting that this is "a market that was stumbled upon". Now, to the extent that the central bank is an arm of government policy, it's interesting that Dr. Worrell should step into this area. I know that he is interested in the many fine aspects of Bajan and regional culture, so I feel his heart is in the notion that these things, in their broadest sense, should be made available to visitors, who can support the country with their foreign exchange and patronage, as well as being available to locals to enjoy for their patronage and whatever spending they too can generate.

We are still waiting to see a strategy/policy for tourism out of the Ministry of Tourism, and the floundering in this area does not inspire confidence that anything clear will emerge any time soon.

Various commentators have mentioned previously new tourism ventures and areas of interest such as 'heritage', sport', medical', 'educational', 'religious', 'cultural', all of which could offer important niche opportunities for Barbados. What exists is really piece meal and it's not clear that the various actors really take account of much other than their own self interest.

It will be good to follow this discussion in coming month, not least to see if the government and the major current players in the tourism sector manage to clarify who and when they will target--the Caribbean diaspora/Bajan locals for 'staycation', or non-Caribbean foreigners, or particular groups from wherever (e.g., US colleges, churches, etc.).

It is clear to most people who have visited other Caribbean resorts that Barbados does not offer the average tourist much more than sun, sea, sand, sex, and food. Barbados also has a reputation for being expensive, so when visitors come they are predisposed to seeking value for money. But is that what they really have on offer? One of the weaknesses of the market for cruise passengers, for instance, is that there is only a pitiful range of goods that could be shown off as generating retail interest--and please do not talk about the craft market. Broad Street is not attractive, with a poor selection of outlets. The disparate offerings of attractions are a real bugger's muddle. Take a look at some of these: Harrison's Cave has been closed most of the past three years; the Concorde Experience is like a white elephant trying to hide. I read recently that Harrison's Cave will be due for a 50% increase in entrance fees--whenever it reopens. I also read that the airport authority does not allow the Concorde exhibitors to advertise in the airport, so passengers/visitors with some time to lose at the airport are unaware that next door there is a wonderful attraction. It's another example of how the tourism product has not been bought into by people and institutions at a national level.

Maybe the Governor needs to help push together some of the heads to think along a set of similar lines so that their ideas can be funneled well. But, that would be so much easier if we had that oft-promised tourism strategy. Why are we still waiting for that?

All That Jazz: Time To Lime On Farley Hill

The Barbados Jazz Festival is an annual event that I now look forward to immensely. When we landed on this blessed isle in January 2007, it was too late to enjoy a day on 'The Hill'. We wondered what hill this could be because Barbados was supposedly flat. But, with the help of my wife's future driver, we found the heights known as Farley Hill, and for me it has been a great place to visit regularly--with or without music. Along with Bathsheba, it is one of my 'must see' places for visitors. It has a fabulous view that makes me pine a little for Jamaica. But, enough of that. I found the next year that the 'best lime of the year' was on Farley Hill on the last Saturday of the festival. People whom I had met independently all seemed to join together in groups and surprised me with their interconnections, some as friends, some as family. I just kept on being amazed that the strands were tightly woven. It's been that way each year that I have been on 'The Hill'. Now, I know more people, but they mainly seem to be offshoots of a core group that I first met; I'm newly known to them but they are quite familiar with each other. Maybe that is a real part of living in this lovely region of far-flung islands, but closely knit communities: birds of a feather, flock together, indeed.

This year, I decided to take my little daughter so that she could hang out: no dolls, no games, no books, no fixed bedtime, just freedom. She loved being able to roam around the grassy hill and find seeds to fill a plastic bottle and make her own shak-shak; or talk to some friends we knew as I let her wander around between groups of adults. She loved hanging on the barrier by the stage, with some young friends, acting like a real concert goer, but also enjoying seeing musicians actually playing: in her case, watching Karen Briggs on violin, should have inspired my daughter with her Suzuki lessons.

But, much as I enjoyed myself, I could not help but reflect on some wider issues.

The PM said this weekend that Bajans need to stop belly aching (see Advocate article), and adopt a positive attitude, especially when putting things into context of the tragedies now hitting Haiti. Well, I'm not Bajan, and I am going to have a belly ache. Image is very important, and as I have written before, Barbados has done much to concoct a very good image of itself. But, when it comes to 'sitting above the rest', I'm not slow to say that I find the reality wanting. Take this week's jazz festival, one of the pinnacles of the tourism calendar for Barbados. What would be one of the over riding memories that I will hold, apart from the good music and the good vibes? It will be that there seems to be no regard to how people can feel abused when they have paid good money for an event and then one hour, or even two hours after the allotted start time, people are still futzing about and we have not yet had a bar of music.

It happened midweek with the Smokey Robinson concert at the Garfield Sobers Gymnasium: billed for 8pm, but not getting underway until 9pm, and made worse by the fact that when the MC came out and warmed up the crowd he did not say a word for the delay up to that point or about the delay that was to follow. Why did the musicians get on stage and find that the mikes were not working? All that "Check, check. 1-2-3." that we know should have been done. This is not my teenage garage band at work now. Sure, when Smokey glided on to the stage everyone was pleased, but the slow hand clapping that had broken out sporadically during the preceding hour was a sign of clear displeasure. This did not escape comment in the press the next day, but we mover right along. This is the Caribbean, and time doesn't mean anything, right. Wrong!

It happened again at Farley Hill, when the noon start time just morphed into 2pm. No real sweat on a beautifully pleasant sunny day, with not a care in the world, as people sidled in and looked for places to sit and food to eat and drink to quaff. That is until you push on to the end of the day, which presumably was running two hours later than previewed. Now, I am not thick with Robin Thicke, but even my six year old daughter was ready to swoon when he came on stage at 8pm. The problem for her was that she was also ready to swoon from fatigue.

So, what would be a visitor's take away? I ask because I was sitting near to a phalanx of foreign media on Saturday, guests of the Barbados Tourism Authority. I did not hear what they said and I could not see what they wrote, but I say their faces, and as they wandered around for things to note while not having any live music to hear, I'm sure they were trying to paint the best picture possible. Would they have loved the coolness and relaxed attitudes of the people and the fact that, in keeping with stereotypes of Caribbean island life, time does not matter? We may have to scour the press in coming days to get a real idea.

So, done with that gripe now, I will be glad that I took my time to pass some time on 'The Hill'. Sure, the cooked ackee and salmon that a Jamaican friend proffered made it sweeter. So, too did the barbecued chicken necks. No less so, the hugs and smiles exchanged every five yards.

You Really Going To Crush My Corns?

What is the worst news that a Caribbean island can get? It may be warnings of an impending hurricane: the season is long and many such alarms come and go without any damage and complacency sets in. It could be the rumblings of a volcano, signalling that one of the active, though dormant caps may blow. We have seen their devastation often enough on those tiny isles, such as Montserrat: the British arrive and offer to take people away from danger in boats, and many refuse. It could be a plague of African snails, munching on our crops and devastating what harvests were due. But if we are offered a bounty to capture these beasts the money goes unused and if we are told we can cook and eat them, people are more ready to say "Who me?" than swallow their pride and prejudice and chew on the grubs.

But worse is the news that British Airways unions are threatening a strike to happen over the Christmas period. We read that "The 12-day walkout could cost loss-making BA £30million a day and ruin the airline." But the strike could cost many islands their tourist revenues for the season. The UK news lines are reporting the frantic action being taken by airline and potential passengers (see Mirror report): court cases, re-booking like crazy.

I spoke to some academics and practitioners in the tourism sector recently about the fact that I dislike tourism for many reasons. One is that the industry is hard to control from the suppliers side: you cannot make more sun, sea or sand that easily, or make them better; you can make rooms fancier and offer more discounts, but they eat away your earnings. I also do not like it as a pillar for development, because it sucks up so many national resources that cannot then be diverted elsewhere if needed. Unused hotel rooms/nights are a 'perishable' good a well known US hotelier said recently: once past their 'sell by' date they are useless.

So what will countries like Barbados do if the Brits cannot come in a few days time? Not much Christmas cake can be made and eaten if those airlifts do not arrive? The hardy will try to get here by hook or by crook and by any airline routing they can--they have money to preserve too. Maybe it needs a Churchillian effort to 'evacuate' Blighty and deposit ship loads of Brits on the beaches--like 'Operation Dynamo' from Dunkirk in reverse. Makes you feel miserable?

Here's to a merry Christmas.

Tourism Week When Tourism's Weak

The coming week marks Tourism Week, hosted by the Ministry of Tourism (see Government Information Service). Under the theme: "Achieving Success through Service Excellence", the public are invited to participate in a range of events between December 6-12, ending with a Christmas concert in Independence Square featuring a number of local performers. Among the events that struck my eye was a public lecture on December 7 entitled "A Vision For Tourism in the Future", which will be held in Lecture Theatre 2 of the University of the West Indies, Cave Hill Campus, from 7:00 p.m. to 9:00 p.m. The lecture will be delivered by Professor John Tribe from the University of Surrey in the United Kingdom.

Many people seem confused about what is happening to this sector, which is a main earner of foreign exchange and provider of jobs in the economy.

The latest and most comparable data (through November 24) are those provided by the Caribbean Tourism Organization (CTO), see http://www.onecaribbean.org/content/files/dec4Lattab09.pdf. These show a clear 10+% decline in stop over visitors during January-October (over the same period in 2008). Virtually every reporting country or destination recorded a decline, and Barbados looks to be about in the middle of the region for performance; but the data are not all for the same period, so I wont go into that more. A notable bucking of the trend was seen in increased visitor arrivals to Guyana (+6%), Cuba (+3%) [both January-September] and Jamaica (January-August), which increased by 4%, boosted by a 28% increase in visitors from Canada. This reportedly reflects 'new accommodation', increased airline seats, and 'aggressive marketing', especially to western Canadian provinces (see comments by Tourism Minister Bartlett).

For Barbados, only visitors from Canada registered an increase (+10%). Visitors from every other region (US, Europe, other [mainly Caricom]) showed substantial declines (-12/13%). The Canadian story seems to reflect a lot of hard work on the ground to boost travel, and some real knock-down fares. Similarly moves (prompted by the start up of JetBlue's service from New York on October 1) to lower fares from the US north eastern corridor were probably too new to have yet had an impact on arrivals from there. We know that North America and Europe have been mired in a deep recession since 2007, so the fall off in travel should be no surprise.

CTO's data show cruise passengers to Barbados were up 5% over the same period. Many specific conditions affect cruise travel. However, the data show some huge variations by destinations, eg Dominica + 52%, St Vincent +51%, Antigua/Barbuda +26%; with notable declines for US territories and Martinique, and Cozumel (presumably H1N1 related).

Government ministers have tried to put the most positive spin possible on the clear downward trend in tourism this year, and naturally have started to move to the prospect of a more positive outcome in 2010.

One area where the spin is positive but hard to fathom concerns what tourists spend. What I know of travel statistics makes me have little faith in any data on spending, as they are really good guesses at best. Some countries have well developed systems for data collection, for instance, Canada has a very sophisticated way of measuring such spending, in part in calculating GDP, see http://www.statcan.gc.ca/pub/13-009-x/2009002/meth-eng.htm. But good statistics for tourism spending has many implications, including how they would affect any re-estimated GDP.

Whatever ministers say about tourism spending showing signs of increase I would take this to be pie in the sky. One thing that has been noticeable to me when travelling to/from the US the past few months (to Miami, New York and Washington DC) is how many of the passengers from the US had Bajan accents, rather than American-accented people. In terms of spending, ‘US’ visitors who are really returning nationals usually means less spending. Indications of how tight times are in the developed countries include signs that a reverse remittances story is developing, with residents in the Caribbean sending support to their relatives in North America and elsewhere, not the usual direction of 'from foreign, back home'.

But, I sense that some people are really lost about what tourism means for the country. Tourism does not matter much to a country merely because tourists have a good time; if the good time is at national expense, then you better look out. People may not know that much of the past tourism business was based on heavy discounting by Barbados' government. That means Bajans were paying tourists to come and have a good time. That went a step further this year with refunds for bad weather. Note that we who live here do not get any financial breaks 365 days a year.

Many positive comments have come about the past weekend's 'Tennis pon de Rock' event, featuring Serena Williams and Caroline Wozniacki as the main attractions. Most people had a good time and the tennis stars loved being here and want to come back. As Ms. Wozniacki noted in her blog, she loved her suite at Sandy Lane. But, who would not? Some would feel that prices for tickets and the billing should have given them more than one set of tennis over 20 minutes from these super stars. Others might say that, as it was a charity event, it was a great achievement to get them to come to Barbados, which has no really high standing in world tennis.

But the benefit of events has to be demonstrated in terms of income it generates, new business it generates or may generate, and new income it may create, less all the expenses that have to be paid to help generate that income. That’s as true of your corner shop as for any major event. If you want to look at it at an extreme look at how putting on Olympic Games have cost the cities that host them. Forecasts of profits turn out to be losses. Look at Cricket World Cup as a regional example. Everyone loved the events, but now the citizens have debt round their necks and some white elephant structures on the landscape.

Some people seem reluctant to want to do the accounting for what took place. Yet, if you don't do that then you should not be surprised with the burden that you may be carrying in the future.

What is interesting is that rather than know any answers people seem ready to enjoy the party and not worry about who may have to pay the bills. I guess where ignorance is bliss, who wants to be wise?

Some see posing questions as 'beating the drum of gloom and doom'. Yet the doom and gloom, if any, only comes if the answers are not favourable. The questions themselves show that you have an interest in going beyond what you see on the surface. They seek to go in the direction of investigation–asking for information–rather than assuming anything (good or bad). Maybe this is uncomfortable to do. Like not visiting the doctor because one fears what he or she may say?

People seem afraid to ask what tourism is really doing for the economy or what any event has really done to boost tourism (sport or otherwise) this year or in the future. How is it supposed to help? If the product is so good, why does it need to be subsidised? How does positive comments go to offset the critical views recently aired of those who come from overseas to try to arrange sporting events in Barbados? Is the event a one-off or is it sustainable? And so on.

The question has been asked many times, "What is the net benefit of tourism for Barbados?" The answer remains elusive.

Jungle Juice: A Weekend In Belize

It's hard to imagine that a week ago I was in the Belizean jungle. Then, a few days seemed so long, and this past week has seemed to pass so fast.

I've spent a little time regaling acquaintances with the trip along the New River and the visit to a Mayan village and temple. They also heard about what the world looks like from atop the trees in the jungle, while zipping along a wire. I have not been to see a psychiatrist, but I think I am certifiably mad. Why else would I think that a man in his mid-50s, who is not President Putin, would think that clambering up 60 feet of scaffolding as if he were Tarzan's chimp was a good idea? My mate had decided that parenting is an active occupation which means that at least one unit be present, and quickly dispelled all notions that she would be 'going for a ride'. But, no. Macho man had to surface. Truth was, when the offer was made early in the morning, I'd recalled with clearly a very blurred memory taking a zip line run or few when I was a boy. Then, in London's Holland Park, there was a rope contraption that ran through the woods, and friends and I regularly went there for a bit of whoo-hooing. It was simple enough and I remember--true or not--flying along in jeans and T-shirt, and having to jump off at the end instead of crashing into a tree. No harness. No helmet. Just a bit of guts.

But, times have changed. Now, I was being trussed up in a harness that looked like a skimpy diaper. I was given a workman's glove--one, yes--and did not feel that it made me look like MJ. Then, I was pointed to my objective. Way up above me stretched the scaffolding. Atop that was a platform--well, three planks set on top. "Up you go," I heard come from a drawling youth in his mid-40s; his name was Mark and he had long straggly hair. I trusted him because he was the owner's son. His smile was evil. In the late afternoon, with a tired and sweaty body, and the prospect of being high in the sky with only my bottom as support, I wondered if I really was being smart. I climbed. "You're going on the outside. You need to be on the inside," I heard from below me. I gave a glare. "What difference does it make on which side I fall 30 feet?" I yelled back. Tschoupse!

As I took a midway break, I looked down and saw nothing but tree and rock to fall onto. Comforting. I wanted to get to the top fast because my arms were aching and I knew that more time meant more thinking, meant more worry. I reached the top platform and was not put off that the plank raised as I tried to sit on it. It's only 60 feet down, I thought as I wavered. As I was hooked onto a pulley, my guide said "Just suspend yourself on the wire and get comfortable." I looked across the tree canopy and down to the ground. Suspend. Comfortable. Who is he kidding? I looked as his fellow pushed off and zipped toward the lower platform 500 feet away. Seemed easy enough. I pushed off and suspended....disbelief at first that I was not falling. Thank God, I thought. "Ready?" evil-looking Mark asked. "Like dead Freddy," I chimed. "Let's go, then," Mark snickered and pushed me away. Wheeeeeee!

Time moves slowly in a crisis. I tried to put up my gloved hand to pull on the wire to test how the braking worked, remembering that it was sensitive and that too much pulling would make me flip. I touched the wire and in an instant lurched forward. I let go immediately. I whizzed on, but now was starting to spin as my body was buffeted by some wind and I wondered how it would feel to hit a concrete column at 20 miles an hour. I tried to steady my swinging, and in doing so saw my glasses fly off into the jungle. What you cannot see, cannot hurt, right? I put my gloved hand up again. One finger got caught in the pulley and the glove dangled. I had no means now of holding the wire without burning or cutting my hand. I thought about impact. I braced. I put my legs out a little in case I needed to cushion my impact. Then remembered. The zip line turns up towards the end and that should slow me down. It did. A huge sigh as I got near the end and arms came to control me.

I had survived. But, hold on. As I stood atop a ladder waiting to be unharnessed, I heard "Wait. Stop. He's not off the line." I looked between my legs as I bent over to be unharnessed and saw evil-looking Mark racing toward me. Why were his legs outstretched? Surely, he was not aiming for me? I did not panic. Where could I go? I might fall off a 6 foot ladder.Better that than off a 60 foot scaffold, I rationalized. I thought that my bottom clearly was a good target and laughed to myself that I would have an ignominious end to the day. But, no need to fear. Mark skilfully braked his run and stopped inches from my backside. He saw my smiles, right way up. "You want some more of my beef jerky?" What an offer.

We headed back to the not completed lodge and lodged our complaints over several bottles of locally made fruit wine, tamales and meat pies. Stories were not ready to flow along with the fruit juices. Natural juices had already flowed freely.

I started from the end of the story, though. Beforehand, we had been taken as the first visitors along a 'medicine trail' still under construction, where there would be about 110 marked posts indicating plants and trees that had proven medicinal properties (for curing hepatitis, running bellies, enhancing sexual prowess, countering snake bites and more) or had geographical or cultural importance.Nature has a wonderful system of self regulation, so no sooner had we found a tree with a venomous sap, than we found alongside a plant that would reduce the rash that it caused.

But, the walk seemed tame compared to having to clamber around deep caves for several hours. Even though the inside of caves are dark and cool, working your way up and down the 'paths' is very hard work, and sweat mixed with bat guano is still not going to be a killer product on any market. But you have to get used to the combination. As I looked around at Mayan era remains on the cave floor, I wished that more of history could be absorbed by merely being in a place. I did not want to see the ritual human sacrifice as much as to understand what people really thought they were doing and what would be achieved. Now, with a few relics of old civilization to help, we can try to piece together life from 2000 years ago.

I discussed this week in an online forum views about Europeans cultural influence. I tried to argue that we overplay its role and significance, especially in the Caribbean and Americas. We forget, or do not know, of ancient Mayan and Incan culture, and misunderstand what Europeans did, including giving them credit for erasing those cultures even though the cultures were on self-destruction paths. It may seem oddly contrarian, but I feel that focusing on the negative view of Europeans' influences amounts to putting the wrong people on a pedestal.

Un-Belize-able: 2012 And All That

No two English speaking Caribbean countries are the same. But those that are part of the Latin American mainland are intriguing because of the cultural and linguistic mixing with non-Anglo Saxons that has gone on for centuries and continues, while most of the islands do not have this phenomenon as a constant. Having met Belizeans decades ago in London and been fascinated that these people from central America spoke like Jamaicans, I was always intrigued by the possibility of visiting their country. I later learned that it was slaves from Jamaica who had been taken to work in logging for Britons some 200 years ago that formed the based of Belize's black population. Well, I got my chance to visit this small country at the weekend, as I followed the head of household to one of her periodic meetings with high ranking officials from the region.

Belize (formerly British Honduras) has a population just larger than Barbados, with some 300,000, but with a huge land mass of some 8,860 square miles--big, but about 1/10 the size of Guyana.

The country is regarded as poor, with GDP of about US$ 1.4billion and income per head of about US$ 4,250. But, on the ground, the place looks like better than many other Caribbean countries, though I did not go far into Belize City, and I heard that garbage is a constant problem. There are good roads that take you from the coast into the interior. But I was not on a big economic study tour. I was looking forward to seeing some the famed history and culture.

Starting out around 7am, we had the pleasure of a day tour of the New River lagoon and Mayan ruins at Lamanai (meaning 'submerged crocodile'), to the north of the country. The river ride was placid and dotted with sights that our guide and boatman skilfully pointed out to us. We saw howler monkeys, who loved to be fed bananas and were happy to jump into the boat. Iguanas basked in trees. Adult and baby crocodiles languished near the river banks--more or less submerged. "Jesus" birds walked across the water and lily pads. Cormorants just looked on from their perches. As possible, our boat turned into a sprinter as we scooted around bends: I've never before been in a boat that did a wheelie. But the boat ride was a prelude to a tour of a Mayan village.

The Mayans were the masters of the place nearly two thousand years ago. It's still amazing to see what their culture created, whether or not you think that they were really aliens. Their ordering or life and time are now coming to the fore as the year 2012 approaches: this is supposed to be the end date of the Mayan long calendar and portends various kinds of cataclysms or major physical and spiritual transformation. The Mayan population in Belize was reported to be some 3 million and the Mayans did things on a big scale, as evidenced by their temples. I have seen them before and visited Mexico's Teotihuacan site. Climbing that had been hard due to dealing with altitude. When I saw the smaller temple at Lamanai, I knew it would be hard too, as it had really steep steps. So it was, as my gazelle-like wife was leading the charge with one of her super fit Bajan women colleagues, whom I'd met in the gym in the morning doing her normal routine, so I knew she was in shape. I clung to the rope to help me up. We were all stunned by the views from on top. We were then all seized of the steepness of the descent we needed to make to get back down. Mummy! Some of the descendants had to take the hindmost way down and mud stains on the pants were no sign of shame.

We were glad to get back to our little picnic area and enjoy lunch provided by our guide's mother: rice and beans, stewed chicken, onions steeped in hot peppers; washed down by a few ice cold Belekins, the local beer.

The boat ride back to our bus was like a speed boat race as the two boats jockey for position as we negotiated the river bends. More than one Jones lost a hat, and at least one Jones was assaulted by a flying baseball cap.

The hour long bus ride back to the city was notable subdued: after eight hours of fresh air and food and fun it was understandable that people were tired. While some could pack their bags and think of sitting in airport lounges the next day, some of us had to be up bright and early to head off on the road again, elsewhere into the interior. That will be another story.

Residents' Perception Of Tourism: Results From Recent Study

Fellow blogger, Amit Uttamchandani, concluded recently a study of residents' perception of tourism, as part of his course work of a Durham University Masters in Business Administration degree. He has kindly shared the summary of his findings.

His results show that economic factors dominate as positives from tourism. In his words, “Tourism increases employment opportunities” is the most positively perceived impact of tourism. He also finds that “Tourism preserves the natural environment/does not cause ecological decline” is the least positively perceived tourism impact.This is consistent with the finding that “Tourism increases the price of land and housing” as the most negatively perceived impact of tourism. Interestingly, “Tourism has heightened tension between residents and tourists” is the least negatively perceived tourism impact.

I hope that this study catches the eyes of the Ministry of Tourism and those involved in this important local economic sector.

It Pays To Collaborate

I spent the better part of yesterday at Novel Teas, poring over the text of an MBA dissertation, while someone poured me hot sweet tea and latte.

Why? I had offered to do so.

For whom? Funnily, for a fellow blogger, Amit Uttamchandani, who needed some help in completing his studies.

For what? No reason, other than it was possible, and if one can help one should do so. But, I did get my lunch bought for me, and he offered me free lunches for life.

What next? He submitted his documents, bound, to the university, earlier in the day, and invited me to join him for a drink with friends in a nice watering hole in Maxwell, called Pablo Dontes. I had often driven past and thought the place looked super cool and relaxed. I was not wrong.

Having met just so very recently it was odd to be sharing beer and food as if we were old friends.

The soon-to-graduate-while-working student says that he wants to do more study; maybe philosophy, maybe economics. I urged him to make practical use of his study of perceptitons of tourism. He had already had a door opened for him by getting to talk about his survey results on Brass Tacks, during 'Tourism Week', so he should run with that. But for now, he can savour the end of his studies. Well done, Amit.

Time To Get Down To Business

I am not a great lover of mass tourism, and I have a strong belief that one of the wrong turns that Caribbean countries made in recent decades was to put so many of their eggs into the tourism basket. I also feel that in this region we have a hard time distinguishing between service and servitude, and so, having to deal largely with visitors of European-heritage creates a horrible social and sociological tension that is hard to deal with.

I think that our focus on education has been right but we should have led our economies toward services that exploit that high quality education, such as finance and science, that allow us to excel intellectually, but not necessarily through our people skills, which need major retooling as we move from rural servitude to urban service. My focus on this has been sharpened due to some incidental contacts in the past two weeks.

Over the past week, I've met with a couple of Americans working for major financial firms, and coming to Barbados to check on how their local financial relations are doing. The US corporations are involved mostly in investment advice and some portfolio management of corporate and private clients in Barbados. Apart from saying what they had looked at specifically for their companies, I was struck by what they had to say in general about Barbados. For one man who was here for the first time and relatively new in the business, he thought that the beaches were great and the Hilton hotel was nice. He could not wait to come back and was telling all his friends on Facebook what a great place it was to visit. Those things are not trivial, as they represent the front end of the tourism sector.

Another visitor, who visits every three months and has been here a few times, was impressed that the variety of restaurants was so good, even though he noted that some high-end and very reputable restaurants had closed during the past year. He was due to have dinner on the west coast and we agreed that his choice of Tides was a great one. We discussed what had gone wrong to lead to the closures of such local icons as Aqua and The Restaurant at South Sea.

Neither said a word about building up Barbados' financial sector, and I did not ask so wont draw too many conclusions from that omission. But, I suspect that they do not see Barbados as offering any real competition to what they are offering out of their New York City bases.

Ironically, Barbados just had its Barbados International Business Association Business Week Conference, at the Hilton. The sector is very significant, and contributed 15.2% to GDP. One of my contacts had provided a speaker for the event. I saw that my friend, Prof. Persaud, was also there chatting up a storm about the need for financial services to bolster the economy (see Advocate report). He is reported as saying:

“...financial service is the right business for Barbados to be in”, and “We need to stop promising to set up an international financial centre service commission and actually do it. The moment is here, it is now, it is not going to come back,”... and with no sugar coating, “We fall down in Barbados in that we have a vision but we are poor at the execution, which is not new. We need to find ways of improving how we execute. I have been thinking, ‘How can we do regulation in a way that allows us to execute easily?’" He also pointed out that it seems to take a crisis to get action moving in Bimshire, but that a crisis gives little room for manoeuvre. No disagreement from me on any of that.

I just wonder if Barbados is ready to grasp what is an opportunity that will not last long. It is amazing how quickly people can see how the open goal turns into a half chance. But, as I was taught, if you assume that you only get one chance a game, you are already ready to shoot on goal and often score from that mental preparedness. I get the impression that Barbados is still in the way of thinking that opportunities will recur with a certain regularity rather than the more pessimistic idea that this may really be one of the last chances.

Swine Flu Over The Cuckoo's Nest

Barbados recorded its first death from the H1N1 (aka 'swine flu') virus this week (see Associated Press (AP) report). Reports indicate that the number of confirmed cases is now over 100 persons; I know two of them intimately. All of a sudden, the sniffly nose and the sore throat and the slight headache may signal more than I wish it did. My little princess has had impressed on her for months now the importance of her personal hygiene, especially hand washing. I went off for a few days in Jamaica and she had the sniffles at the time; so too did I. At that time, one friend had already alerted me that she had been diagnosed with swine flu and was in quarantine. By the time that I came back, a week, later, another friend's child had also been diagnosed. It's so ironic that I can live for years in Africa with no contagious disease hitting me or my family and then ploops here in Barbados I'm a nose away from the latest pandemic.

Barbados and other tourist destinations would seem especially prone to this kind of disease, welcoming as it does hundreds of thousands different people each year. But, in the Caribbean we are not accustomed to taking the kind of precautions that help prevent the spread of such diseases. We are not so comfortable with rigid rules that would affect people's simple movements. For that reason, we will see a less than fulsome application of warnings: I arrived in Jamaica and was handed a form about the virus; I arrived in Barbados and received nothing--this was after the first death, now. I saw no signs prominently displayed warning visitors about the disease. Several months earlier, on visiting Anguilla, I had had to complete a form detailing my recent visits to see if any of them could have put me into contact with the virus. I get on a plane in the region and there are no precautions evident that would do anything about air borne spread of the virus, as if there is something really effective, though we could be like Asian travelers and wear masks. I see no signs at schools that are known to have the virus present warning visitors that it is present. And so on. Perhaps, we just are happier muddling along, feeling that modern medicine will whip up what we need if we are afflicted.

The furore over fingerprinting at ports of entry in Barbados gives an idea of how people feel about any invasion of their privacy, and we are a bit touchy in that respect in the region

I do not feel especially at risk as I travel around in general and no more at risk in the region. My recent trips to the US indicated that we are on a par with the great USA. I have not been to the UK recently, where the virus was taking a notable hold: during the summer I read reports that the first UK death was recorded in mid June, but by mid July deaths had reached 29 there, and just this week the UK began shipping an approved swine flu vaccine, Pandemrix (see AP report). I have quipped a few times about the risks Barbados faces through its close association with the British tourist, but in the case of swine flu, it's not really such a facetious notion. British fears were probably calmed by the Chief Medical Officer cutting the estimated maximum (worst case scenario) death toll to 19,000 from 65,000 a few months ago (see Daily Mail report). He noted that the figure could be as low as 3,000; that lower figure would be less than half the total for the regular winter flu. This is in stark contrast to more alarming figures cited by politicians some days earlier

You know you cannot run or hide from the spread of diseases such as this, and the sense of panic that often comes seems misplaced while you experience nothing directly. I did not panic when I heard that one of my close acquaintances was infected, but I was more alert to symptoms. Maybe that's all one can do. I will still kiss and hug people as I often too, and I wont ask if they have washed their hands or check with whom they have had contact before I plant my lips on their cheeks. But, I will be vigilant about my child's habits, hoping that good lessons learned will keep her safe in the viral pit known as school

Tourists are notoriously fickle, but I do not get the impression that many are not travelling because of the swine flu scare; maybe that is because the recession had diminished numbers already. Travellers do not like to get sick when abroad so it may start to dawn on people that they should do some checks on local medical facilities. But that too is something that does not sit well with the idea of going off for a good bit of sun, sand, sea and sex. The prospect of getting AIDS is perhaps a keener deterrent to most travellers. So, an already hard year for tourism is not likely to get much worse.

As I write, I hear no coughs from anyone in the house. Everything is as quiet as a mouse. I hope that it stays that way.

Who's Eaten My Lunch? What Unemployment Can Feel Like.

I had my heart broken this morning and I will tell you why. I have an acquaintance who works in the tourism sector. She and I met about a year ago. She seemed so simple and kind and that attracted me immediately. She talked to me about the place where she worked and suggested that I take time to spend a vacation there. I did nothing immediately, but did visit the place. It was lovely and had such Caribbean charm. I then had no contact with the lady again.

Almost 18 months after we first met, our paths crossed again. Immediately, she was on my case again about spending a vacation. I was still not agreeable, but decided to go to her place of work and have lunch with a friend and her children. We all had a great time and the staff were so kind, in the way they treated us like family. I agreed to spend the weekend and booked up there and then. The weekend was spent with another pair of couples whom we had never met before, but my acquaintance thought would be a good fit. She was right.

The weekend was pure relaxation and mostly laughter and fun. The weekend extended into Monday, as we were having such a good time. I was now ready to convince all of my friends that this was THE place to go and spend a few days and get spa-ed, etc. I never had that but those I know who did said it was amongst the best.

I had to meet this acquaintance over the weekend as we had some things to discuss and I was in her neighbourhood. We made a plan for another vacation later this year and I was going to set up about 5-6 couples to make up the party. I even mentioned it to one lady during my daughter's birthday party this weekend--she was very excited at the prospect.

Then, in the wee hours of last night, I got an e-mail. It said in so many words, "Ive been fired!" I could not believe it. This person is the backbone of the place. What little that I know about the tourism industry tells me that the profit margins are thin and further cost cutting is now very difficult. But, this is the kind of thing where people have to bite back. I do not know how that will happen, but one way is that those who are friends of the newly unemployed will start to boycott the place where she worked and send a message to friends to do the same.

Maybe it takes the smoke of some one's life going up in flames to make you realise how fast fire can spread. I'm lucky. I do not work for anyone any more, and have been saying to people that unemployment brings wonderful opportunities. I now have to convince my friend--because she is that, not just an acquaintance--that this is real.

I know she has faith and will trust in God to see her through, but a little human help wont go amiss.

Is My Name Pon He Mout?

I am not a great one for chasing after 'celebrities', so I was a little surprised at my own reaction yesterday when I found myself having lunch with Colin Spencer. I have been spending the past few days touring around the island with a French visitor, whose origins are Martinique (father) and Madagascar (mother). She's trying for a post here but is now on holiday . We're going to the places I like, and have been helped by the rain, which means that time spent on the west coast has been very limited, because the roads near Holetown flood so fast. We were also helped on Monday morning when going that side when my visitor got a touch of a bad stomach. We decided to let her camp out at a friend's house and sleep it off, while I helped the friend do battle with LIME over a dickey modem. That turned out to be a stop at a great oasis as our troubles were rewarded by a late morning brunch of ackees, salt fish and avocado.

Yesterday, I decided to head north and east, after another little trip to see friends at LIME, this time for the nicest of reasons that need not bother you, but I can now synchronize my BlackBerry and my computer again. We headed off up the highway toward Farley Hill, but I decided that a look at Apes Hill would be a better bet. We climbed to unseen heights in Barbados.

My visitor was stunned at the expanse of the development project and that polo and golf seemed so prominent. I indicated that we were dealing with a very small playing population for the sports but the owner of the land was doing good business and satisfying his love of polo.

We then headed of toward Bathsheba--my favourite spot in Barbados. We took a stop at Chalky Mount and found Highland Pottery, run by a St. Lucian couple, who seemed so self-effacing it was hard to want to buy as we seemed to be disturbing important industry. We then headed for the Soup Bowl. That should have been smelt as a cue for food as it was nearing noon.

Once we got to the little parking area at Soup Bowl, I called a friend who used to live just nearby to see if she was home. She was, but now further away. She gave instructions that totally confused me, yet told me that her home was nearby, which seemed untrue given where I thought she wanted me to head. But, undeterred, we got my car spun around and headed to St. John's Church, which gives me the best view of my favourite place. I encouraged my visitor to take in the view and the tombs in the church yard. I checked in again with my friend. I was sure I knew where she was and we headed that way after the visit to the church was done. We were feeling a bit weak so a stop and relax were due.

After a few "Go straight and take the far left road" and "If you reach the factory you gone too far. Turn back and look for the road that leads up the hill" type directions, we got to THE PLACE. Nestled in the shadows of Andrews sugar factory and a cotton factory. We were well met and within seconds real soup was on offer --not yet arrived, but the cook was on his way with a pot. We took in the breeze and I took in a Banks. Sandals were kicked off and typical Caribbean liming was in full swing. We wrapped ourselves around bowls of soup as soon as they arrived--I spilled some of mine in my haste to the table,but the floor was clean. Our host, not a soup fan, soon looked at her empty bowl "That soup was slamming!" No disagreement, there, as we sucked on pig tail and chicken bones.

We rounded things off with some fruit cake and coconut bread. Enough, already!

Then we were told the news. "You are just warming the chairs for my real lunch guests." She was being her usual honest self, but it rang oddly. She smiled and said, "It's Colin Spencer...we're good friends." My jaw dropped. I am no fan of Calypso or Crop Over--more through ignorance and lack of familiarity. But, I had fallen in love with the song he had prepared for Crop Over, 'Inclusion in reverse' (see previous blog post). I was visibly excited.

Well, when Mr. S arrived, it was near 3pm and he was 'Jonesing' for his lunch. I had to give him my adulation and pressed his hand like I was a little boy meeting a long time hero. That somehow put my host back and she told us to stop that rubbish. I was not deterred and we chatted animatedly and my visitor was lost as we swung between Bajan and Jamaican slang. We discussed THE song a little and then Mr. S got into his soup, moments after threating to leave it was not in front of him in moments. The cook sat quietly in the corner and giggled; he knew that more soup was at his shop.

I must admit that I never really set Mr. S and his song back into the proper political context. He had been a rarity in the 2008 election, as a DLP candidate who lost a seat (St George North; to Gline Clarke, the incumbent and then Minister of Public Works; see election results). I never got into talking about the election, where Mr. S had 'gone for' the Minister, but clearly had not got him.

I did get a reinterpretation of THE song and was told that I had taken the lyrics too literally. I will go back and see what that may mean, especially as the opposition BLP get into a little ding dong about party leadership. Let's see if there will be a sense of inclusiveness there as the days pass.

I sensed that a Calypsonian who has put his words in song and on party platform was as dangerous as a blogger. I started to quake when he said that he was glad that he had the makings of two songs in his head after our crazy meeting over lunch. I do not know if I want my name 'pon his mout' and I'm not ready for any infamy; if he has it in for me, then woe betide me. As my friend made clear to Colin (he insisted on first names) about me, to make sure the knife went where it should: "He one of dem Jamaykans who does run off he mout' pon de raydo an in papers, an we gine get rid o he!" Nice friend.

Cobblers Cove: Pudding And Souse Is Served

When British tourists arrive in Barbados I bet you that the last thing on their minds would be eating pudding and souse on a Saturday afternoon. Not so if you live here.

I had warned the managers at Cobblers Cove that if they invited locals to partake of their luxury, then this would mean major changes in how the hotel dealt with guests. For example, we know what is expected at the weekend. So, before we arrived I had set up that the chef prepare P&S for us. My wife, ever the largess spreader, had decided to invite some of her staff to join us: a funny white guy from South Carolina, who talked to me about bawled peenuts, and our lovely host for the Dominican rabbit festivities.

When we set ourselves up by the pool side a few things were clear. First, no one was giving us too much attention, though as usual we were getting a bit boisterous. Second, we were...Then the gear arrived.It was nicely laid out in cordon bleu fashion, which may seem excessive for the walking and talking parts of the pig. But, if you do it, do it well. This was almost French, pudding et souse avec des herbes provencales. Well, our Bajan cohort looked impressed. "Well done, the man. Thought you were joking." I took a metaphorical bow. The meat was mainly lean, but with enough features to please. The pudding was dark and based on beetroot, and a little spicy. The pickled breadfruit was just right. That is, for all except the Skipper.

"I larke poyrke but I doesn't eat with all that sturff," he drawled. "I'm gone take me somn else." No amount of goading would change his mind. I felt like getting him a jar of boiled peanut and watermelon rinds.

The staff were pleased as we put a Bajan lick on the day. We were so pleased that this simple piece of local life had not been abandoned. I had arranged breadfruit, ackee and saltfish for Sunday breakfast.

Cobblers Cove: Sport? A Walk In The Woods

We had been scheduled to play tennis the afternoon we arrived, but alas, an intervening opportunity arose. More on that later. So, after a leisurely beach walk by the wealth creator, we had had a nice beach side breakfast. We then need to play possum and try to get exercise mid-morning.

"Where is the tennis court?", I asked at the front desk. "Cross the road, and go through the little green gate. Pass the gym and it's just straight ahead," the receptionist told me. "Do you have balls?" she added. I always pause at that question. "Yes, thanks," I eventually replied, wondering if she had been a bit forward.

We meandered across the road, saying a quick good morning to an old man hanging half his body--the top half--out of his house window. We saw the gym. Or was it the gingerbread house? It was cute. We entered and it became Teutonic--weights, and bars, and stationary bikes, and mats and pulleys. A bit too much for a nice hut.

We walked out, and if I had had a basket we would ahve collected mushrooms. We looked at the court--a little worn, and we had been warned. But, it was playable. We hit and I made the Graf-wannabee do drills. Oh, we did not like that. Well, I mean. Tennis every day of the week and we still have to fly coach? Federer has a private jet. I had expected to be a travelling spouse on the Sony Ericsson tour by now. Don't tell me about Steering Committee meetings stopping that. Push ups. Star jumps. Make fewer errors. Serve, Drive. Volley. Oof! My game. Serve. Lob. Volley. Huhnh! My game. We did this till 5-2 and I thought it was time for a bit of breeding to show. "Shall we call it quits? That way you can say I did not win," I offered. Ever the competitor, the better half pondered. DNA kicked in. She challenged, "It would satisfying to break your serve," I rolled my eyes. "But, dearest, no way as satisfying as to break yours for the match," my Roddick-like voice muttered. We walked off court.

The sun had gotten high and it was time to cool off and have lunch. Straight into the cold plunge pool on our roof, and a nice swim. We had brought matching swim suits--each was sheer and figure-hugging, and looked just like skin...