On Thursday we got up early (for us) to catch the 10 a.m. bus to Scarborough. On the way in to the village we gave Kunter a lift from his fishing boat to the jetty (see Mick's video).
We had been warned about the fickle nature of the island's bus service but it turned up on time. An hour and a half later we got off near the main Ferry dock in Scarborough. We had also been warned by other yachties who had already visited the town, not to expect too much of the port town and it's certainly the case that it's not a particularly attractive town.
Our first priority was to buy tickets for the return trip - you can't pay on the bus and our other Swedish friends Lasse and Birgitte had given us tickets for the outward trip. It turned out the town pharmacy of all places was where they were sold. Having got our tickets we decided to track down the return bus stop. Our Swedish friends Jan and Ellie had got on the wrong bus and ended up on a major detour to get back to Charlotteville. They subsequently found the right stop and sent me a screen shot of the location on google maps.
As we neared the location and passed by a couple of bus stops on the opposite side of the street, we were hailed by a friendly local offering advice. During a lengthy chat it turned out she had lived in Hackney most of her life and had decided to return to Tabago to eacape the British winters! She told us the bus stop was somewhere else. Being (fairly) local, we were inclined to accept her word, until that is, another local confirmed the location was as indicated by Jan.
We then sought advise on where best to get lunch and a drink. Both our advisers seemed to agree on the best option and then the second said he'd take us there.
Once there - a caffateria style café (though we had our doubts that it was the same place suggested by our 'Hackney' friend); it became pretty obvious that our new guide was expecting some sort of 'thank you'. I therefore offered to buy his lunch. Big mistake! He turned up at the payment counter with two, packed to overflowing, food trays, containing about 4 times the contents of my own or Mick's.
I took him to task about it; eventually he got the message and returned one of the trays (to the restrained consternation of the staff). His remaining tray was still bulging, but I didn't want to cause further problems for the staff and so reluctantly paid for it. I told our guide that I was not at all impressed, but the cheeky blighter continued to act and talk as if everthing was fine. Even after I deliberately chose a table with only two chairs for Mick and I, he continued his inane over friendly enquiries. Eventually he got the message and left us in peace to eat our lunch.
Our 'Hackney friend' had advised us to visit Fort King George whilst in town, so after lunch we set off up the VERY steep hill over looking the town to the fort.
The photo at the top of the post, picture's one of the gun emplacement's from Napoleonic times.
The grounds contained a remarkable tree covered in parasitic growth...
Then we found the powder magazine, built by the British, semi destroyed by the Dutch and re-built by the French when they captured the island from the British in 1763.
Then we continued on up to the old Baracks...
Today they are patrolled by a family of non - combatants....
Thankfully, we managed to buy cold drinks before visiting the small but fascinating museum. Unfortunately, no photography was allowed, but it contained a large selection of indigenous people's (Arwaks and then Caribs) artifacts as well as many from the 17th-19th Centuries including copies of some fascinating historical documents.
I could have spent hours reading them but time did not allow. The main events I gleaned, were that in the early 17th century, the British Monarchy of the time 'gave' the island to two noble families without either knowing of the other's claim and that the French, in the face of a far bigger naval force commanded by Admiral Rodney, captured the island from the British in 1763. Rodney was heavilly criticised in the UK press of the time but it does did not appear that he suffered any official sanction. The British then re-took the island in 1781.
Then it was back down the hill to find the bus stop. It was crowded with locals when we arrived which gave us confidence that we were in the right place. It arrived on time too!
About halfway back it stopped in the middle of nowhere and the bus driver cheerfully announced that it had broken down and everyone would have to get off - permanently. No mention of waiting for a replacement bus. This was the end of our ride. We were all left to our own devices. Amazingly, the local passengers were not at all put out and got off laughing and joking with the driver! Can you imagine the reaction of passengers back in the UK turffed off a bus in the middle of nowhere!?
We walked a mile and a half to the village of Roxborough, about 10 miles short of our destination. We got a beer and asked if there was anywhere we could get a taxi. Lots of head shaking followed, with advice to wait for one of the local minibuses that would, at some point, pass by!
After standing around looking helpless for 10 minutes a car stopped and the young driver offered to take us to Charlottville for $TT 100 - about £8. We bit his hand off and gave him a further $TT 30 when we got to Charlotteville at around 1830.
Mick cooked another excellent fish dinner from the last of the Red Snapper bought a couple of days ago.
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