Sunday Morning

The Bridgetown church bells have been ringing since 4:30am. It’s been four bells up and four bells down. Real sophisticated way of describing it. Sorry. This church sound is so familiar; it’s like describing a heart beat. You know – ba-boom. Ba-boom. Hear it all the time. Cant quite get it right.

It isn’t the only noise going on right now. Dance music – Barbados-style is filtering across the anchorage from the beach. Occasionally pulsing and banging. It comes in waves. An MC is singing, shouting and rapping over the material.

Who, I wonder, is still dancing at this time? Right before dawn. Is everyone just lolling about in the club? Perhaps there’s those few hardcore people on the dance floor- the ones who’ve danced themselves into a trance. How do you send them home? Dance them out of the door.

It’s almost 6 now. The sky is beginning to brighten. While the MC’s voice and the music fades, the church bells cut through the air again. Then the MC gets a sudden burst of energy and his voice takes over.

Are those few dancers still twerking? Are they shuffling around? Or maybe, just maybe there’s thousands of people out there on the beach side club in the old, original sugar warehouses of Barbados, grinding together, spilling out on the beach. I should get up and have a look.

Wait. It’s stopped. There was a crescendo of music and noise. Now silence. Like the place stood up and took off down the road. Evaporated. Only the church bells are left. The sun is up too, poking itself from behind the low-lying Barbados hills.

Maybe everybody’s gone to church. Does morning mass do breakfast?

Now there’s a snorting sound coming from the water. Oh wow. The racehorses have arrived for their Sunday morning swim in Carlisle Bay. The trainer’s on their back, urging them on. One horse has come out as far as Quest. It’s snorting from the water’s surface into our ears. Cutting through turquoise.

4 thoughts on “Sunday Morning

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