The Rest of the World Comes to the Sunny Caribbean

Breakfast in Bed

Breakfast of champions. Can you believe I went to Tesco on Friday - got my peanut butter, got my strawberry jam, and forgot the bread? I blame the Nigerian!!! He accosted me in the bread aisle and made my thoughts murderous as opposed to carbilicious. In any event, I had to run out the house yesterday morning (not in my pyjamas) in order to stave off hunger and sure death, to get a loaf of bread! But it is just the easiest thing to wake up, slap some PBJ on a slice of bread, chuck it in the microwave for 10 secs and voila. Breakfast. I was listening to BBC last night on my way back home and heard the presenter saying she could not understand how people could eat peanut butter and jelly together. As opposed to stuff like mushy peas? Cultural distance again - another classic example. lol.

Last night we (my classmates and I), in a dire need for rum, went down to Camden to Cotton's, which came highly recommended by a couple friends. I did not doubt their judgement, mainly cause Mr Cotton's is also Mr RumFest and you know how much of a time I had there. And it is very hard for a real Caribbean soldier to mess up rum and rum-based drinks. I knew I was in excellent hands. I was not going to be subjected to stingy bartending, where there is more of the chaser than the rum, which is what I tend to experience in the pubs and other local holes. You just cannot be stingy with rum, people.

And disappointed I was not. I was wanting a daiquiri for ages and when I walked in, ordered my strawberry daiquiri and then put my lips to the glass, I was saved. Saved I tell you. It was awesome. The rum was stinging my lips. Stinging.

As an aside, no Nigerians at the bar, but Ethiopians this time. It must be an African thing to call women "sister". It is soooooooooooooooooooooooooo annoying. Can I just say this again? And dude offered to buy me a drink and when the drink got there, guess what? I had to pay for it myself. lol. Real star, he was.

Kudos to my friends for being spot on time last evening. I am generally very punctual, despite being a Trini. My people have a terrible reputation for being late all the time. However, I loathe having to wait. It really bugs me, especially if I have had to run up the street, and bust a lung, upon seeing my train lingering at the platform just so I coud be on time to meet your ass - and then you're 25 minutes late. Pisses me off.

But we all had a really good time. It was like the United Nations up in the place. Let's see - French, Swiss, Spanish, American, Trini. Very cool. The food was spectacular. Though not Trini food - I mean, we cannot get perfection - everything was great. I had some accra or what was listed on the menu as saltfish fritters, and the mixed jerk grill - chicken, pork ribs, pork belly and lamb. Oink oink oink. All with rice and peas and fried plantains. The majority of the table tried the Beef Pepperpot which I also sampled which was pretty great. Thankfully, the Trinidadian seafood curry, which my anti-spicy Spaniard (oxymoron!!) had was not at all spicy, though how Trinidadian it was, I am not quite sure. But it looked and smelled fantastic. The braised salted beef also looked decadent. The smells from it all - to die for. And the Europeans and American all enjoyed it. I am so glad. Caribbean forever!

I would highly recommend the daiquiris and the Jamaican Mule which was like liquid orgasm and I fear I may be taking the train back to the bar this weekend just to get me one of those. I would highly recommend Cotton's. Special thanks to our waitress, Christina, who was a peach.

We followed this with a short turn at BarFly, which was bumpin' but I was too tired to enjoy it and I checked out after maybe an hour. I also am growing quite weary of this night bus nonsense. The bus ride takes decades and it's cold, and you're shivering in this bus for an hour or more, and I just did not have the stomach for it so I rushed to London Victoria to catch the last train home. I really miss private transportation. The awful weather and public transportation just do not mix.

Despite being extremely tired, I had a really nice time. It was like being back home without getting on a plane. I was happy. Very much so.

Then... I walked outside. It was bitterly cold. Where on earth is spring, London? I got home and I was layered in jumpers and in socks and shivering under my blanket, with the heater on. Buzzkill. Port of Spain, take me.

Today, I am continuing my Caribbean vacation as my very sweet Barbadian neighbour has invited my cousin and I to lunch. I hope she has fishcakes on the menu. Her fishcakes are DA BOMB!!!

If my trainer could see my fat ass now. Maybe I should just brave the chill and go jogging when I have free time. Load up my Machel tunes on the MP3 player and hope for the best.