6 hrs, 1.9 kms
Day totals: 16 hrs, 8 .5 kms

I have a couple of hours before I head back to the yacht. Tomorrow I fly to Grenada, however I plan to Trinidad more on the way back, so I'll go a ahead and get a taste for what that exploration might be like. I'm especially interested in seeing how plentiful cheap lodging is elsewhere on the island.

I catch a but an hour south to the second largest city, San Fernando. After shuttling back and for between different stations trying to figure out which is the fastest bus to take, I'm finally on my way, and we head south through the green plains. It looks like an agricultural region--but I can't see if anything is actually being grown.

I'd remarked to Shaun that it struck me odd that bananas cost 3 times as much here as they do in the US.

"When they discovered oil here, people lost interest in farming. They considered farming to be slaves' work . So now the country has to import food. Trinidadians are hard working people--but they don't do the labor jobs. There are 1.4 million people in Trinidad and about 140,000 illegal workers who do the labor jobs."

Now as a gaze across this vast fertile land, it seems absurd that this country should be importing food. Something just doesn't feel right about that. This anti-farming trend is something I will learn much more about in the day ahead.

We reach San Fernando and it's raining again, but I don't have much time, so I hurry out to explore it anyway. This feels more what I expected a Caribbean city to look like, with a small dense core/shopping area surrounded with hills covered with metal roof houses. There are indoor shopping galleries lined with clothing boutiques and electronic shops.

The first order of business is to find a cheap hotel, so I can make San Fernando my "base" when I come back . I soon spot a sign that says "hotel-bar" on a scruffy chic traditional Caribbean building. I head inside and upstairs past rich gawdy colors and into a dingy room where a couple of very unattractive girls sit staring at me.

"How is it a night for a room?"

The receptionist looks at me "a night? you only pay by the hour here!"

She points me towards another hotel, I find it... and it's a "pay by the hour" type hotel too. I ask a couple of other people and it seems that there aren't any reasonably priced, respectable hotels in Trinidad's second largest city!

This could be a problem.

But let's focus on finishing San Fernando. I do a loop around the shopping district. There's a cheerful air, but I do feel I should be more alert here. Finally I spot a little plaza area where I find a semi-discreet spot where I can do my set, and take a video clip with a colorful church in the background--before I'm cut short by the pouring rain again .

While taking shelter under a tree a young fellow joins me and starts to chat. "I hope to go to America someday."

"To work there or just to visit?"

"I work as a welder in the oil industry--and I'm paid well. I don't want to work in the United States--just visit. But I'm worried that I won't be accepted because my family name is Mohamed"

I gave him some tips for exploring New York--and reassured him that there are plenty of "Mohameds" in the US!

I liked the sound of that--that a welder be paid enough that he wouldn't feel the need or desire to immigrate to America in search of a better life. When a country starts paying its blue collar workers a middle class wage, it's taking a major step towards developing. In fact, Trinidad might alreay be considered a "developed" country.

Time to head back to Chaguaramas . It's rush hour, and the four lane freeway turns into a parking lot--way out in the middle of nowhere! Cars, cars, as far as the eye can see...

I wonder, how can a country of 1.4 million people have such massive traffic jams?

Luckily I still make it to Chaguaramas in time and enjoy a nice evening with Shaun and a couple of his friends on the yacht.

An Embarrassing Screw up

As I prepare for another peaceful night of sleeping in a boat, I take one quick look at my ticket to Grenada... and suddenly realize that I've made a royal screw up. My flight is at 5 o'clock in the morning... tomorrow, rather than day after tomorrow!

It's midnight now... in a boat in a harbour, 40 kilometers away from the airport.with no transportation. I want to kick myself. I had it all planned out so I'd spend the night at the airport free of charge--and now I've put myself in a situation with no good (or cheap) choices .

Shaun is kind enough to row me to land once more, and let me call the guy from the guesthouse where I'd stayed, who arranges transportation for me. Then I head out to the entrance of the dockyard and wait for a a couple hours until he arrives, give me time to lick my wounds and figure out how I made this mistake. I realize I'm not really used to this sort of traveling, locked into fixed dates, departures and appointments, so I'm going to have to get my act together and be more organized.

There is one bright moment. I get to talking with the security guard.

"I've lived and worked in the US a lot, I have a lot of family there--I still go back and forth a lot. But I like life here better. You enjoy life more... not so many rules."

Hmmm... so a guy would actually prefer working in Trinidad as a security guard than work in the USA? Wages here must be pretty good! I can't imagine a security guard much anywhere else in Latin America who would turn down the opportunity to work in the US...

Finally my ride shows up and we head to the airport, passing through Port of Spain. It's three in the morning, so I'm sure there'll be no traffic...

Wrong. The city is in gridlock

"Tonight is ladies night. There's a big concert/party at the stadium--guys can go, but it's mostly for ladies"

Ladies night? I thought that was just a gimmick used at clubs so guys would have more options to choose from. Not here. "Ladies night" is exactly that--and night focused on the ladies going out and having fun--not looking a date!

Sure enough, as we drive through town, I see clusters of women heading home from the mega-party, sometimes with a male in tow.

I'm fascinated by this for several reasons. First of all, the fact that women can feel safe out on the street of "dangerous" Port of Spain at 3 in the morning, without any men harrassing them. In much of the world, women out at this hour are immediate targets--especially in developing countries.

Secondly, I'm intrigued by the contrast with Middle Eastern cultures and elsewhere, where a woman out at night is automatically assumed to be a loose woman and will be stigmatized and scorned by society--or worse. But here, wives, sisters and mothers can go to a big party and come home alone at 3 in the morning, and it won't be a stain on her reputation. Just because they're out at night in skimpy outfits doesn't mean they're looking to have sex with strangers, they're just out taking a break from the routine of life, dancing the night away!

I love Middle Eastern culture, but this is quite a refreshing change.

Finally we make it to the airport. I guess it all turned out OK--other than my wallet being a little lighter. Goodbye Trinidad. Our adventure is to be continued.