I am living my dream. I love my job and my colleagues. I love my location, I love the life I am building and I’m happy with what I’ve built thus far.
But I’m also slightly under the weather and have been for a while. En plus, I’ve been on the road a lot in the past few months which has only compounded it/dragged it out. My own denial in the hope that it would go away so that I could get on with enjoying my life has undoubtedly Not Helped. Alas, I is but a mere mortal.
Please note, under the weather, really means just that. I’m not playing down a terminal illness. It’s just that when you are leading a high-energy lifestyle, a bit poorly can feel like a death sentence. Continue reading →
I am a reluctant air traveller. Between being concerned about climate change and not enjoying being treated like a criminal every time I go to the airport, I avoid it wherever possible. Perhaps it’s my coming of age on London transport, but the way I see it, trains, boats and buses tend to depart and arrive from/in city centres, have better and/or amazing views, are cheaper and simply more convenient and relaxing modes of transport. Obviously over long distances overland travel is much slower, but personally I subscribe to the notion that the journey is the destination; a measured pace makes for plentiful opportunities for immersion and absorption in the travel experience. Thus it was that I departed St Lucia for a whirlwind view of the South American continent. Continue reading →
In the name of truly interspersing our tales of traversing the Atlantic in the opposite direction as British Caribbean black women in 1958 and 2012 respectively, I thought I’d share some of my adventures before revisiting her experiences. But I think it’s about time for Granny P (aka my maternal grandmother) part 2. If you missed part one, head to it here.
So how did she even end up in England is one of my favourite questions. When she emigrated from Barbados to start afresh on the other side of the Atlantic she was the first person in the family to emigrate by choice for a while as far as we know. Both her mother and grandmother (my great- and great-great grandmothers respectively) had been born and died in the same parish that we believe the family had lived in since we arrived in bondage from Africa.
Granny’s mum (my great-granny, known simply as ‘Mama’) had a corner shop and her mum, Elvira Clarke, had been a cane cutter (back when job descriptions were self-explanatory). Granny told me once that all she remembers of her own grandmother was a red headscarf she always wore, and the cutlass slung over her shoulder as she walked to and from the cane field daily. One of those times I harrassed her for info which she didn’t mind sharing, taking her back to her memories of her own childhood. Continue reading →
Suburbs of Bridgetown with Harbour in the background (Photo credit: Wikipedia)
My sister doesn’t get my blog. She reckons there’s a big difference between ‘my new life in the sun’ as she calls it and our granny’s graduation to the cold 55 years ago. I beg to differ. In the spirit of the new year, I thought I’d better get onto explaining the similarities, so this post is all about my granny’s experiences of moving when black.
After having conducted an impromptu interview with my grandmother about her experiences of moving to England in the late 1950s I confess to being wracked with doubt about the wisdom of it. I thought interspersing my thoughts and feelings with hers would be a bit more interesting than just another here’s-me-doing-cool-stuff type travel blog (though you can see a bit of that here). And I kinda wanted it to be an homage to those who’ve done much tougher stuff before me as I take comfort in knowing that if my granny could move continents 55 years earlier without a laptop, smartphone, emails and skype, then I can definitely emigrate with so many 21st century communication modcons to keep me in touch with my loved ones.
Now, however, I’m not so sure about that idea. I’ve badgered my grandmother for years about ‘telling her story’. She has never shown the slightest bit of interest in sharing it, but every time I see her (which is not that often because I’m usually located in London and she’s lived in Barbados since I was 5), I find a way to bring it up. Continue reading →