To drive or not to drive. For thirty years I’ve been behind the steering wheel suffering long
commutes and road trips. After much deliberation, I decided to let go in St. Lucia and let myself be driven.
So far so good!
The “buses” are really just minivans that seat a dozen large passengers three
across. Reggae music is the
soundtrack for a sweaty ride through the city and up the hill. Since most of my travels are limited to a small northwest section of the island, the bus works fine
for me. I get to meet people and watch the scenery through a gritty window before attempting to navigate on my own; driving on
the left and maneuvering over a circuitous and steep network of coastal roads.
Unlike most public transport, these bus drivers don’t seem bound
by any specific timetable. The 2pm
bus may leave at 1:45 or 2:15 depending on the whim of the driver or
persistence of the passengers. Bus
stops and routes are improvised, and vehicle maintenance seems arbitrary.
How can you go someplace new, if you
know where you’re going?
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