Trip of a lifetime: White beaches, swimming with turtles and all-night partying in Barbados
Irene stayed at the Hilton Barbados resort
My alarm went off at 1.30am. I swung my legs out of bed before I hit the snooze button. To save time, I went to sleep three hours earlier in my party gear — a shredded t-shirt and black leggings. I clipped on my bum bag, grabbed my backpack and took the lift to the hotel’s ground floor where I met a giddy crowd of similarly dressed revellers.
We were about to board a bus to Native Foreday Morning Fete, a renowned night-to-dawn music festival in Barbados.
It turned out to be one of the best nights of my life.
The setting was a car racing track on the southeastern part of the island, and we fell in behind the crowds as they danced behind a slowly moving truck decked with flashing lights and huge speakers. The music was so loud my body vibrated. A DJ doubled up as MC and encouraged the snaking caravan to let rip and celebrate.
We were closely followed by another truck; this one was transformed into a bar. Partygoers needed to keep in step with it if they wanted to get their 1lt-plastic bottles filled — whiskey and rum were in high demand.
Trailing behind was a truck with a flatbed trailer carrying porta loos — timing was of the essence if you wanted to jump on board to answer the call of nature.
The dancing — mostly to Caribbean Soca — was exuberant, almost wild, and all about the hips. As the woman ‘wined’ or twerked, the man approached from behind, moving in sync with her — pushing his groin up against her body. Such was the force of some men’s thrusting, the woman had to place a hand on the ground for support. Like a human triangle. In less than a minute, it was all over. The couple parted ways and moved on. It was a strange mix — ancient mating ritual meets modern pounding music.
My Irish dancing hips refused to cooperate at first, but the relentless beat of the music and a shot of whiskey soon had me swaying from side to side. The boundaries soon disappeared. We were all there to have fun — no matter what gender, age or ethnic group. The catchphrase on my neon green wristband suddenly made sense: ‘One Caribbean. One People. One Party.’
The air was a mercifully cool 17C — down from a sweltering 31C — and the crowd of some 20,000 danced like there never was a pandemic. Bottles of coloured paint were soon thrust into the hordes, and we grabbed them, spraying each other with childish squeals of delight (we were advised to use a slick of baby oil on our skin to prevent staining.)
The sun began to push above the horizon, but no one wanted to go home, least of all the DJ who reminded us that the island had waited three years for this festival. Water guns were turned on to revive tired bodies — the pagan baptism felt exhilarating.
By 8.30am, we slowly made our way to the food stalls and the waiting buses. I was soaked to the skin, exhausted but high on Caribbean energy.
I arrived on the island on July 27 for the Crop Over festival — a 200-year-old tradition to celebrate the end of the sugar cane season — along with more than 70 influencers and journalists invited by The Barbados Tourist Board/Visit Barbados.
Our Bridgetown-based press trip was part of an all-out drive to reboot the country’s tourism industry, responsible for 17% of the country’s GDP, which almost ground to a halt during the pandemic. With a year-round warm climate, shimmering blue waters and bleached beaches, the island is postcard perfect.
The inhabitants seem to live life at their own pace — one local described the laid-back mood as ‘the vibe’. This vibe appeared to drive the week-long festival with back-to-back open-air Soca parties and crowded bars.
We partied hard all week. As part of the packed itinerary, I also attended Lifted, a night-time beach party, the Mimosa breakfast party, and late-night Soca Rukshun. All had busy bars, DJ-led music and dancing. Some younger members of our press group didn’t miss a beat, attending all 11 Crop Over parties.
The festival’s showstopper is Grand Kadooment Day, a Mardi Gras-style procession through Bridgetown. The female revellers in our group who signed up for the event showed impressive commitment, rising in the early morning hours to get their elaborate make-up done, before stepping into eye-popping, barely-there beaded bikinis. Some also wore elaborate feathered wings.
They joined thousands of others dancing in searing heat behind trucks carrying DJs and live bands playing at full volume. Here, the twerking took on a new intensity and passion, with the women twerking with each other, sometimes in groups of four, rotating their hips at Olympian speed. Once again, the loos on floats made an appearance — needs must.
Long past my bikini days, I took up the invitation to watch the parade from the official government stand, rubbing shoulders with the American and Japanese ambassadors, among other dignitaries.
We were joined in the afternoon by Prime Minister Mia Mottley, one of the most prominent international voices in the climate change debate and recently named one of the 100 most influential people of the year by Magazine. Given the size and location of the country, Barbados is particularly vulnerable to rising sea levels and global warming.
Pop sensation Rhianna — the country’s ‘uncrowned queen’ — is a regular participant in the parade but was absent this year as she gave birth to her first child in May. Still, her high-spec music bus with all mod cons, including air conditioning, got a loud reception from the crowd.
Among a sea of colourful trucks, the Digicel-sponsored truck stood out, a reminder of founder Denis O’Brien’s long association with the Caribbean.
Overlooking the pulsating parade is the Emancipation Statue — a giant sculpture of a black man, arms raised defiantly with broken chains dangling from wrist manacles. Locals call it Bussa, after the African-born slave who inspired an uprising against the plantation owners in 1816.
There was plenty to see and do besides the Crop Over. Our boat trip run by Cool Runnings Catamaran Cruises was a stand-out experience. We took an early morning trip around the island — the captain and crew gave us a warm welcome. With the music throbbing, it was thrilling to be propelled at speed through the water, the wind catching the towering sails.
At one point, we stopped to snorkel. A shout quickly went up — there were turtles nearby. I swam in the general direction and spotted two small turtles going about their business, uninterested in their excited audience.
When I returned to the water to cool down, a giant turtle glided beneath me out of nowhere, serene and unhurried. Its power and grace were mesmerising. Swimming with these ancient, protected creatures was worth the trip to Barbados alone.
Later in the day, anchor was dropped near a beach encircled by impressive houses and apartments — we were free to swim to the shore. It was only after we returned to the boat that I heard from one of the locals that Rihanna has a home overlooking the beach. In the same way we know that Bono lives in Killiney, it was shrugged off as a matter of fact.
A visit to Harrison’s Caves brought us into the rock foundations of the island. An open electric tram carried us deep underground while our guide, Gabriel Welch, explained how the limestone caves were first referenced in 1795 but only rediscovered and explored in the 1970s. Over thousands of years, drop by slow drop, hanging stalactites, sentinel stalagmites, water pools and waterfalls formed — a wonder world oblivious to its stunning beauty.
Some 85% of the country is underpinned by a coral limestone bedrock which acts as a natural rainwater filter, delivering a high standard of potable water to the islanders.
Harrison’s Cave is part of an eco-adventure park with a highly recommended nature trail, zip line for tree-top thrills, and an outdoor restaurant. The park is also home to the Mount Gay Rum visitor centre. We dropped in for a tour and tasting session.
Though it was early morning, none of the group was about to pass up on the opportunity to learn about the world’s oldest commercial rum distillery — and sample the body-warming drink. With alcohol content up to 45%, a few sips of the three samples were more than enough.
A tour is one of the best ways to get an all-island view. Our guide, Dawn Lisa Smith, part historian, part social commentator, part entertainer, brought us on a whistle-stop tour. She proudly told us that education is free for all and that there are no private beaches — “It’s how we roll”.
A stop at the Builders of Barbados Wall was a big talking point. Each locally sourced red brick has a surname carved into it to acknowledge the people who helped to build the island. There were plenty of Irish names, including Hogan, O’Neal, O’Meally, and O’Brien.
Later, when Smith pointed to the quay where the slave boats docked, there was shocked silence, except for one black female passenger who shouted out ‘oh, the pain, the pain’, channelling the horror experienced by past generations.
We sped past Sandy Lane — a luxury compound home to Simon Cowell — ‘our national tourist’ — and on to the street where Rihanna was raised. We, of course, piled out for the photo op outside the pop star’s family home.
“She could leave her baby in any house, and he would be taken in,” said Smith.
Later we were driven through an old sugar cane plantation and over to the Atlantic side of the island, where the sea pounds the coastline and is less populated than the touristy west coast. The tour left me wanting to learn more about this pear-shaped rock that has overcome a dark history to become a proud and vibrant country.
Barbadians enjoy their food as much as their rum punches. Grilled fish can be found in almost every seaside restaurant, often served with a generous salad. A memorable experience was at the La Cabane beach restaurant. In what could have been a movie set, we dined on the beach under large umbrellas, and swings replaced seats at the bar — cocktails are a speciality — with another solo swing dangling from a tree near the seafront. Our soundtrack was a sublime sax player and the waves crashing to the shore.
I heard that racehorses from the Garrison Savannah racecourse were being washed and exercised daily at dawn in the sea, just a short walk from the Hilton Hotel where we were staying. Though exhausted from the back-to-back parties. I set my alarm for 6am and made my way to Pebbles Beach on the last day. I was not disappointed. In the pale morning light, a single file of majestic dark horses led by stable hands made their way to the water’s edge. It could have been a scene from a John Steinbeck novel.
Not all the horses were happy with the prospect of a wet start to the day and had to be coaxed and pulled into the water, but once in they seemed in no hurry to leave.
One young entrepreneur offered horse rides for $10 to tourists who had gathered to watch — a perfect Instagram opportunity for Candian influencer Ariel Fitzpatrick who arrived later in the morning and wanted to share the experience with her over 700k followers.
Barbados became a republic on November 30, 2021, ending 396 years of British rule. This ambitious island of 270,000 souls wants to get back on track after the pandemic’s economic devastation. ‘We’re open for business’ was the overriding message we heard during our visit.
But the heartbeat of the island goes far deeper than any business plan. And it lingers.
Months after the all-night Native festival, I am still wearing the neon green wristband, unwilling to break the Caribbean spell.
- We flew Virgin Atlantic from London Heathrow. There are direct flights to Barbados (BGI) from London Heathrow (LHR), Manchester (MAN) and Edinburgh (EDI). Virgin offers daily Barbados flights from Heathrow and thrice weekly from Manchester. Flight time from London is around nine hours. See virginatlantic.com
- We stayed at the Hilton Hotel, Bridgetown, Barbados. See hilton.com/en/hotels/bgihihh-hilton-barbados-resort
- The 2023 Crop Over Festival takes place between July and August 2023. Further information on accommodation and activities. For more information see visitbarbados.org.
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