A visit to Georgetown
Author: Shirlz
Loading bananas in Parika
Once again I was on the lookout for a new camera. The one I bought in Cachoeira had developed some annoying habits. Hoping to find a better selection in Georgetown than in Bartika I set off early to catch the 7am fast boat to Parika, a small town near the mouth of the Essequibo, close to where I had anchored when I first arrived.
A steady stream of people were already boarding a waiting boat. Before getting on I had to give my full name to be solemnly written down in a big book. I wondered if this was a way of identifying the missing persons if the boat didn’t make it.
Taxi boats
Following the same practice as the busses in Suriname, we waited until not one more passenger could be shoehorned in. The driver making people squash up closer to make room for a few more. It was starting to warm up and I was glad to be sitting next to the open side of the boat.
At last the two massive outboards were fired up and we roared off down river. Rather different to my slow and careful voyage up. The jungle flashed past on either side – ‘Ahh yes, that was the patch were I nearly got stuck’. We stopped once or twice at rickety jetties to drop off some and pick up others. The river is the only transport system between these small settlements. About 5 minutes before the final approach to Parika, bright orange life-jackets were handed around and everyone dutifully squirmed into them to keep the coast guard people happy.
Stabroek Market - Georgetown
An hour after leaving Bartika we nudged up to the wooden steps leading to the busy dock at Parika. Now I understood the functionality of the strange upturned bows that all the boats have. They make a very handy built-in gangplank for getting on and off the boats when they stop bow-to the wooden steps of all the local docks.
It was a riotously colourful scene with scores of small boats loading up with bananas, pineapples, pumpkins, sacks of rooty things and sugar cane. I made my way through the stelling to where the mini-busses were lined up and found one heading for Vreed en Hoop, the next stop on my journey. The bus was empty when I got on and pulled away almost immediately. My heart lifted, thinking it was going to be a cool and peaceful ride, only to sink a few moments later when we pulled across the road to take on a maximum capacity load of exuberant school kids.
The bus was noisy. The shrieks of the kids was supplemented by some ear-shattering music on the bus’s sound system. I watched with fascinated amazement when one of the mini speakers, which were making this maxi sound, came adrift after we had bounced over some obstacle in the road. It dangled by its wire hovering a few millimeters away from the ear of a stylishly dressed young woman. She was quite unperturbed and made no move to avoid it. Was she already deaf or on the way to being? Maybe she was enjoying the sound. I can’t bring myself to call it music.
I switched off my hearing aids and turned my attention to the passing scenery. We were driving along the coastal road which runs near to the sea wall. The land is below sea level at high tide and the clever Dutch, when they were in control of the country, built a wonderful system of drainage canals and dykes to protect the flat coastal plains.
Shoppers Paradise
We passed through colourful small villages along the way all seeming to have a strong Indian character with imaginatively decorated Hindu temples, prayer flags and cows. Incongruously interspersed with the occasional small business advertising cyber services.
After an hour we rolled up and found a space in a long row of mini busses near the ferry dock. Another walk through a wooden ‘stelling’ and down rough wooden steps to board a waiting boat for the last leg of the trip. Just a short crossing of the Demerara River but nevertheless warranting one’s name being carefully recorded in a big ledger and the obedient donning of a lifejacket.
It would definitely not be a good idea to try to come up the Demerara to Georgetown by yacht. There is no where to anchor safely or leave your dinghy when you go ashore. I felt that the boat and bus fare to get here had been money well spent.
The pretty part of town
So, on to the market. The ferry stops right near the entrance to Stabroek Market which is a bewildering maze of colourful indoor stalls selling a wonderful variety of things. The intoxicating aroma of Indian spices, glittering saris and jewelled slippers, pirated DVD movies and computer games, bananas and edible green leaves. Cures for all ills. I wandered around in the warm semi-darkness and could have spent all day there but I needed to find a camera and be back in Parika by 4pm when the last boat leaves for Bartika. So I ventured out into the sunlit street.
Streets are wide with drainage canals and trees down the centre. Pretty footbridges here and there. But it’s nevertheless a frenetic scene. Street vendors take up most of the space on the narrow pavements and I found it tricky to get my bearings as once you are in the side streets there are no obvious landmarks to help with direction finding. I had my Android tablet with GPS, Google Maps and compass in my bag but was loath to use it openly as I had been warned of the high level of street crime so I had to navigate by the seat of my pants and found myself inadvertently passing the same place depressingly often.
By sheer chance I found myself looking at a crammed window display of electronic gadgetry and thought it might be a likely place to find a digital camera. They turned out to have a really good selection and I was able to get just what I was looking for in the right price range. It even seems that they may be able to fix the problem with the Lumix. I left it with them after the whole family had been given a look at my pictures of Speedwell sailing with her beautiful yellow junk sail. When I left they warned me to be careful and hang on to my bag in the street.
After a quick snack for lunch I decided to head back to Bartika and leave the sightseeing for the next visit when I go back for the hopefully repaired camera.
Tags: Demerara River, Georgetown, Parika
