Thursday, March 25, 2010
A thought: Smalta is not good.
The next day post-beach was to explore Port of Spain (POS). Danie had taken a week of vacation to be my partner in crime, which I really enjoyed. It's one thing to be a tourist alone, and another to be in the safety of a local. We hailed a Maxi Taxi (like a public bus) to take us in the city.
And now, about their roads system.
Apparently, Trinidad has a roads system of 3: main roads, highways, and official/private roads. The main road is a long route through towns, here and there. Often crowded and slow. Thus, the highways were made. The highways were to resolve traffic problems. But it's not noticeable to me. The highways are as crowded as the main roads, it seems. And it's got lights, so I'd identify it with more like a Route in the US. The private roads are only for government workers. That includes: public transports (maxi taxis), diplomats, cops, and ambulances (and etc.). The idea was that the emergency vehicles should not get caught in the traffic jams during emergencies. Fair enough.
It only took 30 minutes to get to POS.
POS makes me feel like I got stuck in a rip of this dimension and got pulled into a parallel universe. I've got to identify places with other lands I've been to (a thing I hate that I do, but anyways). So, it clearly resembled to me a hodge podge of places. It looked like Delhi, with a smattering of Antigua, the bustle of NYC, and the smell & feeling of Belize City. Danielle reminded me that we were, in fact, in none of those places. Thanks.
We made our way through the heat and bleaching sunlight (my sunburn ached and groaned under my clothes). POS is rather small, so scaling the city was not going to be too hard.
Downtown, the Financial District area, was right next to the shops, was a block off of the uptown area. We looked into shops. She showed me some buildings of importance, like where an Islamic group tried to burn some a building during their attempted a coup, a while back. This idea was very foreign to my grasp of reality, since the notion is unfathomable in the US.
Anyways, it didn't take much time.
We ended up relaxing on the Savannah, waiting for MamaD. They had agreed to take me for a jog, and the Savannah was the place. I'm such a puppy.
We waited and waited for the relentless sun to go down. We finally stopped waiting and Danielle walked me around the large 3 mile park, pointing out more buildings of importance and historical marks, like the 7 big houses.
My sunburn hated the sun, and the tight spandex even more. I was thirsty. I ran anyways, a 3/4 mile run. Bad move. By the home stretch I was dizzyingly thirsty and overheated.
When I finished, I grabbed 2 ice-cold bottles of water and guzzled them down. Another bad move. I wasn't sure whether I would throw up, cry, or get ill/pass out. All very possible. Luckily the ladies insisted on getting freshly cut coconuts at the Savannah (I SAW those during my run!). The water was rehydrating and perfect for post-run. The meat was equally needed. I'd live, after all.