“If you come again, I’ll show you Caroni swamp and the pitch lake. I’ll take you down the islands where the lepers used to live. There’s lots more to see.”
On the last day, we had lunch at my favorite restaurant in Port of Spain, the Verandah: a gorgeous gingerbread-style house run by a charming, well-dressed Trinidadian woman. The Caribbean “free style” menu arrives on a blackboard and changes daily. We were lucky to find a table on the verandah, shaded from the afternoon sun by huge ferns, where we tucked in to garlic shrimps with plantain, spinach, a little mound of rice and a tangy salad, rounded off with coconut ice-cream.
I insisted we take a hike up Lady Chancellor Hill. It had been many years since I had made this walk. We set off on the 3.2km, 183m climb just as the sun was starting to dip. People smiled, said, “Good afternoon,” as they passed on their way down. By the time we reached the top we were sweating and red-faced. We gazed down at Port of Spain and the shimmering Gulf of Paria.
On the way home, we drove around Queen’s Park Savannah. I pointed out the poui trees, their branches full of yellow flowers. One day the flowers are there, and the next they’re gone, spread out on the ground like a yellow carpet.
We stopped to buy snow cones from an old man wearing dark slacks and a worn fedora. He took great care to make sure the crushed ice was properly covered with thick red and orange syrup and generously topped with condensed milk. All the way up the highway we sucked hard on our straws. And we were still sucking on them when we arrived at the Studio Film Club. Part of the Fernandes Rum complex, this large white room at the top of a little flight of steps is where the island’s film lovers gather once a week.
From his computer, the painter Peter Doig screens a film that locals might not otherwise see. There are large chairs laid out and a cooler full of beers with an honesty box. We were tired now, but the brilliant old Cuban film kept us awake.
At home, my mother asked if we’d made it to Mayaro or Manzanilla? Chaguaramas? What about Fort George? “Did you see the black virgin at the church in Tortuga?”
Lee shook his head. He looked at me. “We’ll save that for next time.”
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