The Driving Lesson

Grenada is a modest country. Driving is rudimentary and, like so much of the Caribbean, it follows the British régime – driving on the left, and lots of roundabouts – I was in my element. You see few traffic lights but there are roundabouts, even on simple T-Junctions; there’s not much room at these junctions so, often, it’s just a pile of tires. And, on major intersections, in order to ensure that drivers slow down, they simply put a large speed bump a few feet back from the junction on all the approaches – simple but effective. On our drive to the ferry, many motorists beeped at us as we drove along. I asked our driver; 'What’s with all the beeping?'

'Oh, they’re just saying Hi!'

Roundabouts

Perhaps the most endearing local feature, we saw again and again, is the human signpost. It seemed that every time we might go wrong, there was someone there to guide us; often before we knew we needed help … 

Driving south on the main island western coast road we encountered a bridge that was closed; a Diversion sign told us to turn inland. I turned left and headed down a road, looking for the next sign. Ahead, I could see a bunch of kids playing soccer/football in the street, but before we got close to them, they stopped playing, en masse, and pointed to my right. I saw the street they were indicating and, as soon as I put on my indicator, they went back to their game…

Another time, we were driving down a road in a suburb and saw a guy under the hood(bonnet) of his car up ahead. As soon as he heard me approach he stood up and pointed to my left – I waved and followed his direction. Not a word passed between us.

There were occasions when we spoke, usually when I got ahead of myself – I drove past a bunch of guys only to see one of them run into the road behind me shouting and waving. I stopped and backed up. I might have thought: ‘What are you doing? We don’t know these people?’

But then I thought: ‘Hey, this is Grenada. Chill out…’

And sure enough, the guy said: ‘I don’t think you want to go up there – it doesn’t go anywhere. You should turn left here.’ He was right of course.

Red-Footed Tortoise takes a shower

I did have one near disaster on the road – and there were no signposts to help. We drove to a remote part of the island and headed down what looked like a concrete road. It was quite steep with an unfenced sheer drop on one side; I proceeded down with care. I was hoping that we could reach the shore at the base of the hill. Like so many roads here though, it led nowhere and I turned around to head back up. I spotted a red-footed tortoise crossing the road but, as I got out to take a shot, it started to rain. 

I got back in the truck and began the drive back up the hill as the rain turned torrential. The truck slowed to a stop and, as the wheels spun, it gradually slid to the left … …towards the sheer drop. Turns out what I’d thought was concrete was actually mud – it had turned to slime. Carol freaked out: “We’re going to go over the cliff!!” and despite my pleas for calm, she leapt out into the deluge and slithered her way up the hill. 

Our Jeep in calmer times

I decided now would be a good time to look for the 4-Wheel-Drive lever. Whew, I found it and once engaged the truck started to move upward. But, it wasn’t over – across the top of the mud road there was a lip where the asphalt started, and the truck stopped dead there, with all four wheels spinning. As Carol urged me on with gestures of shock, horror and despair, I slowly reversed back down the hill to take a run at it. Success; as I popped up over the lip, the rain stopped, and Carol climbed back in… It was a damp and quiet drive back to the villa.

Note to self – be careful where you drive when visiting strange places, and always keep a bottle of wine in the villa’s fridge!

A Tall Ship in Hillsborough Bay picks out sunlight after the Storm - view from our patio